In Louis Armstrong’s original jazz classic “‘Zat You, Santa Claus?” the poor schmoe is terrified by the cold winds and banging noises. Others, like the chucklesome Harry Connick, Jr. note the four winds. I like the sultry, seductive Lyn Stanley who seems to have snares set with bass rhythms and scat.
Four towns over is where she ran to after a Christmas spat, so Make Like Monkeys retro the rock for “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town (So Why Can’t U).” Makes me wanna holla.
John Moore is trapped in an airport whiteout, so has the time to notice the “35 Different Kinds of Snow” out there in where the four winds blow. Hopping pop. Wee!
Meanwhile… inside… home is closing in around us. Dala Girls are heartbroken ’cause you’re leaving during the holidays, in your “Hockey Sweater.” Four corners to my bed, Four angels ’round my head… count ’em. Gorgeous harmony for pop.
Stuck within the four walls is Alayna Kaelyn, separated from you in the sad “Alone at Christmas.” Looking at the sky a lot, so maybe no roof. Slow, breaking pop.
Looks like a prison, esp. when you’re alone. The soft pop of “(I Fucking Hate) Christmas” BLUE ALERT from Frank Hamilton prettily describes What do you buy the man who’s lost everything: Four walls, three chords, two bottles of wine. Even the fireplace is oppressive.
These four walls they keep caving in; It doesn′t feel like Christmas time at all, Capri moans prettily in the suffering Paean “Christmas in Our Hearts.” Stuck in masks that hide our grins is more nice than my memories of the times.
“Covid Christmas” also troubles John Rahme, stuck between four walls. Pounding amateur rocking about going insane.
Carrying Goodness makes the best of it by drinking to “Winter.” It rocks. You barely notice being stuck.