Other symptoms of sickening sentiment for Advent may include mistletoe.
Brian Fisher and Andy Beck from JW Pepper have brung us the kids’ chorus “Away from the Mistletoe.” Kids hate that stuff, because of the nasty smelling relatives.
Patch the Pirate also ducks down to childsize to admit “I Hate Mistletoe.” Assembly level hijinks ensues.
To save us from children, but not from being childish, Billy Blackflag & His Nihilistic Delusions downplay “Mistletoe is Poison” with garage appropriateness.
ADvocate! Xmas is a terrific platform from which to wave your own particular banner of beefs. Religion, politics, business, sex, crime… you’ve already got my attention with the green tree and the red suit, so soapbox me, baby, one more time.
Bunny Lido (Blue Alert) don’t like family, but really don’t like ‘consumerism,’ which comes off like vampirism in “Anti-Christmas Assault.” Class credit for beating on that folk guitar as a metaphor for the dead horse.
Rather than urban hiphop, Keith James is class conscious with R+B jazz in “This Christmas Sucks.” The protest is lite, but the poetry is powerful.
Preaching from the Children’s Television Workshop, Oscar the Grouch has already sung “I Hate Christmas” for us. Pondertone goes garage-ish with the same thing. Kids, listen up. Free yourself from the chains bells! (Beware: this song is over half way through the presentation, then ‘Stille Nacht’ haunts us with an air raid siren. Message much?)
Is it fun to hate of the the happiest time of year? Some of these songs pile on, without much rationalization.
Snap-Her punks the premise with “I Hate Christmas.” Why? It’s stupid, that’s why! Yah! BLUE ALERT
Catholic School Girls redundantly inundate us with redundancy in “I Hate Christmas,” a BLUE ALERT speedy screed of garage rage. Just ‘cuz.
Least intelligibly, Lerker throat shreds “I Hate Christmas” to pop metal. Yes, BLUE ALERT. Band practice as anger management.
Hate, like love, is blind. Not that it didn’t spring from some tainted source, but it blows the misunderstandings, missed opportunities, and misgivings all out of proportion.
Thusly, some ragin’ rationalizations:
Sharpece with House of Breaking Glass R+B gospelize “Worst Time of Year.” Broken heart, baby, hurts worse in a season of love. Munh-hunh.
Again: Whit Hill and John Latini break down the blue grass of “Jasper’s Worst Christmas.” Relatives crowd the house, ruin the routine, and that aftermath of opening up the present that WASN’T top-o-the-list…. DAMN.
I’m not sure, but i think Sufjan Stevens’s “That was the Worst Christmas Ever!“–also with banjo, but now more gentle folk–was spoiled due to lack of self actualization (or the dad was an abusive drunk). ‘S-hard to tell with all the new age haiku introspection.
By Surprise go appropriately offkey with their “Worst Christmas Ever.” But, see, it’s a fakeout, bc the ‘worst’ is a distant memory compared to right now–when you’re about to meet the ‘rents. (Girl, ima take it as a bad sign that he’s SO insistent–this may gonna be YOUR worst.)
The gift that keeps on giving! Simplex Two.
Doug (from witness relocation??) reveals “I Got Herpes for Christmas” to his fellow partiers. Skip a minute of banter to get to his winsome folk.
Santa’s Angry Elves apply some metal growling to “Santa Has Herpes and for Christmas He’s Giving It to All the Sluts.” That’s pretty much the whole song right there.
Pooch gets (finally) nasty about it all with “Herpes Infected Christmas Elf.” Based on a true story perhaps? Pop garage. BLUE ALERT
Back by popular demand, the cloaked STD gives the ticking time bomb you may not notice until January, that is when you get “Chlamydia for Christmas.” This dishonorable discharge of a garage rocker is courtesy of the OhNos and should be shared only with protection.
How offensive can Christmas illness get? Here we are. The strict and righteous among you, run.
Those who may find the profane amusing, get a load of Beefus with the music hall jazz romp “Abortion for Christmas.” You cut ups!
Grasping at straws we include a (fine) song from Rob Snarski what sings the inscription on the “Christmas Card from a Drunken Sailor.” I wish the (few) cards i got had so much writing in them! Dreamy alt folk.
Country gospel from Christopher Toland honoring “Mama’s Christmas Card for You.” Reverentially formulaic.
Spoken country from Merle Haggard belaboring every detail on “Grandma’s Homemade Christmas Card.” Where’s the 5$?
“A Christmas Card from Daddy” by Mike Bryant lets me know what to get Daddy in return: singing lessons! Yikes.
Also all heart and no caliber, Noel Delisle nasal-croons “Christmas Card from a Servicemember.” Quit with the jolly, get guilty feeling.
Same Sex Mary and Jack Johnson bring it home with “Christmas Card from a Gary in Las Vegas.” It’s not a straight parody of the Tom Waits ‘Hooker’ non-Xmas song, but spiritually, it’s beholden. (Eventually it gets ‘billy rager-garage BLUE ALERT [!?].)
Early punk music was raw, unincorporated groups blasting their own version of rock (angrier, smellier) out of their homes.
Joyce Manor nails the bangin’ painful reverb with “Christmas Card” a poetic polemic about trying to understand. BLUE ALERT
French Style Furs add some professional grad gear to their growlings in their “Christmas Card.” Still pissed, though.
999 sounds cheap and a little Jerry Lee Lewis with their “Christmas Cards.” They try to send ’em, but they’re just not smart enough.
Modern garage gets prettier with traits of lounge, folk, and opera. “The Unwritten Christmas Card” is still a symbol for something bad, but dig the distorted sax.
Singalong and bitch! Even though using too much credit for Christmas shopping is wrong, it gives us something to sing about.
Cheery retro Brit pop care of Jacky Rogue festoons “Broke for Christmas.” On your feet! Sway with lighter extended!
Bouncy punk pop from Boston… Boston, England, that is. 50 sniffs dares us to enjoy a “Credit Card Christmas” through liberal libating. (Santander, btw, is a bank over there.)
Gnarly garage rock with a Beatles-like lilt fires up The BBB’s “Credit Card Christmas.” I wanna hold your debt, yeah yeah yeah.