The Long Ryders, of The Paisley Underground, get my attention with “Christmas in New Zealand,” alt-country about how they’re down under without you–so far away in America (less than ten thousand, actually–maybe Ireland, if you don’t fly? All right, the way the Earth works, you can never be more than 12,450 miles from anyone; so, poetic license). The song, however, is great stuff.
Doesn’t Jesus, the reason for the reindeer, also take wing? Actually i don’t know this one. Let’s consult the musicians.
Richard Poulette fiddles and electric guitars “Flying High on Jesus.” The power of prayer lifts.
Power garage rock from The Guitirate hails “Uncle Jesus Flying Through the Stars.” Up up and away.
The cup-holder of the team, Blitzen pulls right next to Santa. Is respect due?
Perhaps some experimental garage rock rom Terra Ram will ease the indifference. “Blitzen” is a BLUE ALERT a stream-of-consciousness rant about being left behind. Sounds right.
It’s not time to call a halt to the song collecting, but a good WHOA now and then will cause a pause to reflect and collect ourselves. Or, to paraphrase Neo from ‘The Matrix’: THAT”S AMAZING!
“Giddyap, Giddyap, Whoa Santa” takes its cue from popular 1960s rock. The Golden Orchestra and Singers knew how to squeeze out a kidsong back then. Hoo hoo!
Matt Hanley handily dispatches our funny ideas with his experimental garage “Whoa Christmas.” It’s an overwhelming time, and i think that ol’ Xmas oughta just take a step back.
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.