Sometimes we talk to Xmas like it can hear us. (Not like annoying coworkers who don’t talk about what we talk about.) This apostrophe serves Greek epic poets more than modern songsters.
Heart carefully, slowly pops their “Christmas Waits” like it’s from a Burt Bacharach workshop. Nothing but patience in this weak tempo.
Remus improves the musical air with garage romance. “Christmas can Wait” puts the loved one above the holiday. If she can’t be here, then put it on hold, boychick.
Save me a corner by the Okay Chorale, i shine towards an authetic country melody. Make it Christmassy, feature the anticipation, and serve it up chunky and charred. Yummy-haw!
Them snow swept lonesome plains’ll make you pine for the clapboards of the old homestead, so sing Wild Bill featuring the Whiskey Shivers with “I Can’t Wait to Go Home for Christmas Again.” Yeah, it’s maudlin, but in a tight-lipped cowboy way. There’s no crying in cow-pokin’.
Driving folk may put me in mind of one-horse towns that’ll blow away in the breeze. Try LuLu’s “Can’t Wait for Christmas” to see how i’m persuaded.
Even pop, with the right cantering tempo, can put me in a mind of riding the range. Saddle up with Candy Apple Blue (feat. Nick Bramlett) and their not-quite-ironic “I Can’t Wait for Christmas.” Oh to be a child again, when a six-shooter had heroic glory–not political and social qualification.
You want the REAL cowboy song, like from Bonanaza? then try The Caroleer Singers from the old Peter Pan Records days and “Wait for the Wagon on Christmas Day.” This is as authentic as corduroy rawhide. But childish fun.
Perhaps too morose, Ben Aaron drawls “I Can’t Wait for Christmas” like he wouldn’t tolerate none of you-all’s foolishness no how. The hypnotic cadences, however, make my toes tap. It’s like candied chaw.
Sometimes i just close my eyes and roll with the banging. Lyrics? Message? Let’s garage rock the topic.
Carton nicely crashes their band instruments into each other with “It’s Always Almost Christmas.” It’s a 9 for noise, but a 7 for song.
I’ll cheat and say ANY genre of music can be garage if the recording quality is poor, the enthusiasm is high, and the music is iffy. Try out The Gorgons’ bluesy “I Think It’s Almost Christmas.” Is it punk? Is it rock? Who cares, it reeks just right.
How bad can mall Santa be? Let’s start at the bottom.
G-Zeus X has a liltin’ folk pop ballad about the “Mall Santa” who wants to come over. But he’s creepin’ me out. What to do?
Cheetah Dave takes a closer look at the 1$ version in his “Outlet Mall Santa.” One eye, but many smells. Fun percussive garage family rock.
Let’s sneak in a last couple songs about the end of Christmas lights. Or, rather, an end BY Christmas lights. Cue the Cryptkeeper with some horrible pun.
Crap Factory blazes some insta-death metal gargle out of “Strangled with Christmas Lights.” Okay, not exactly in our theme.
Birthing Stirrups also incompletely goof on “I Can’t Help But Strangle Myself with Christmas Lights.” Unintentional garage.
Let’s depart with 10th Grade Cutie’s “Hang Me from the Christmas Lights.” It’s garage.
What’s the bell-sound of the broken-hearted at Xmas time? I mean that lovely mellifluous tinkling is all overhead, and your head’s in your hands–your heart’s in your throat… it’s the worst.
Kenny Loggins hangs a portrait of the lonely boy and “The Bells of Christmas.” Country ballad popular music, so i’d hazard a guess she’s dead.
Show tune from the lady’s POV. Not enough communication dooms the romance in “The Bells of St. Paul.” It builds prog-rock style to the highs and lows of a Titanic-sized affair. What a ride, Linda Eder.
Hair rock from The Darkness sets the falsetto to It Hurts with “Christmas Time (Don’t Let the Bells End.” See, if the bells stop, so does your love. Boo. Oh, and hoo.
Light jazz from Jason Gleason pours out some “Sleigh Bells and Wine,” a soppy soaper about the crying aftermath of the holiday post-dump.
I love watching the flatulent-propulsed The Beaten Generation’s “Ring Out the Bells.” This garage morosity is slurred through some foreign accent and regrets the choices and words… but never the bells. Never the Christmas.
No Christmas without you is a common love-song cry, but the pissed off holler of the broken up is the anti-carol. Xmas smashed!
The blues will do that, wallow in what messes up all that’s good in life… but what about some cool Doo Wop to bring the blues into view. Woo hoo hoo from Larry Chance and The Earls in “No Christmas Cheer.” So there.
Giles Field hates everything after you ripped out his heart, so “No Christmas” (Blue Alert) with a garage lilt to the alt. Skipping to the loo.
P’raps a bad mood could scuttle the entirety of Christmas.
Rocket from the Crypt lists their troubles in “Cancel Christmas,” a pounding modern rock declamation against the box we got stuck in, man.
Billy Anderson goes full Grinch in the striking pop/blues new age “No Christmas in Whoville.” He doesn’t really mean it, though.
Haust (& Okkultokrati) does mean it. Screaming metal rage punctuates the dissatisfaction with the holidays in “No Christmas.” ARRGH!
Santa spirals in “Christmas Got Cancelled” by Dean Stanton, an affecting garage march into economic oblivion that swallows up the elves, the kids, and Frosty, too. No escape.
Maybe there’s no Christmas ’cause we forgot. I do that all the time.
Nearly a miss from The ReMinders: the growly blues pop “Almost Forgot It’s Christmas” wanders and wonders in comic ignorance about what all the fuss is about anyway. What’s the deal with the twenty-fifth??
Nick Hudson tinkles out the emo (BLUE ALERT) in the lugubrious “I Forgot about Christmas“–but he means THIS year, next year he’ll be better.
Third Earth and Friends (feat. Jo Syme) admit “I Forgot About Christmas” for a perfectly good reason–had a job! Not something you hear from millennials much. But the swinging garage rock screeches just right.
What else can we say about poverty enabled people being overlooked at Christmas? They’re so poor… they don’t know it.
Carly Jamison cries “Oh No Santa Claus” when her characters in her story suffer all year long, only to realize today’s different somehow.
Foxtails Brigade presents the drama of a little girl who witnesses everyone else enshrouded in merch, but in “Unfairness Awareness” she gets the nada.