Quite Gone for the High Holidays

More than a couple Christmas rehab songs feature the big man, St. Nicholas. It’s time to deal with a stinko Santa y’all.

Wasi flavors their girl rock with Celtic punk giggling out that every Christmas morning Santa checks into “Christmas Rehab.” I’m not sensing sympathy for the red man.

Also ridiculing our favorite present-er, David Gray sneaks in a smidge of Calypso singing “Christmas in Rehab” in his front room. There’s barf, a small swear word, and a Kanye reference. How could it not be funny?

Mike Mullen mocks Amy Winehouse’s ‘Rehab’ with his “Christmas Rehab.” It’s silly and beats the drunk Santa joke with a bag of toys.

Much more playfully Adam’s House Cat tells us “Santa’s Out of Rehab by Christmas.” It’s a jug band family affair (except for Daddy) with some gleeful musicality.

Plastered for the High Holidays

Post aftermath the holiday drunkeness friends may stage an intervention. All the world’s a stage, but you can’t use the exits in rehab. Play your part, dry out, maybe sing a song to laugh it off.

Cledus T. Judd, of course, has a bouncy country number “Christmas is Rehab.” Kacey Jones wackado-es this song with quick strums and flautist-ence. I, however, prefer the dirty folk version of the same song at a Holiday Inn by Richard Fagan. The pathos and Atticism mix well with the ball cap, oversized sunglasses, and endless unwashed tresses. Well done.

Dylan-esque blues from Willie Hensen in the form of a rogues gallery of recovering patrons: “Christmas in Rehab.” He gets into it, so i’m buying it as a Christmas miracle of hope.

John Prine-esque folk from Grover Windham in the form of confessional: “Christmas in Rehab.” It’s gritty and dirty, so i’m wishing him merry and moving to the other side of the room.

Also making amends, Joe Thistel leans into the country music with his “Xmas in Rehab Again.” It might be the filter on the vocals, but it sounds soul-searching.

More redneck humor arrives from the jolly holiday tune posted by superpont. Some club? Some bubbas foolin’ around? It’s bar-de-har humor entitled “Christmas Time in Rehab.”

Pickled for the High Holidays

Here be warnings of holiday hangovers.

Soul sisters The Thiams add some calliope to their RnB for a drowsy up and down trip back to the bar. It makes me dizzy, Mommy. “Christmas Hangover” is fun for all ages, but regretted by the adults after it’s over.

Muskrat Roberts gets is Richard Farnsworth on with his whining country mumble-mouthed “All I Got for Christmas was a Hangover.” A cautionary tale, to be sure. But he chuckles throughout.

Charles Attard assist Cheryl Camileri have a little skit to go with their bluesy rock lounge act in their front room. “Christmas Hangover” here is a sore point that fuels their Xmas bickering (‘It’s Rudolph, not Adolph!’). They’re cute, but they’re no Timbuk3 (despite trying). And yeah avoid that hangover thing.

A little rockabilly will tempt and taunt you. Book Club’s “Christmas Morning Hangover” at times overlaps tracks, grows discordant, and yells. But it ends on a sweet message while combining studio antics, antique home movies, and amateur animation in an adorable way. Fun fun fun when this hangover’s done.

Off the Wagon for the High Holidays

That unhappy refractory period after Christmas drinking is a badge of honor for the young. Jack hurt me, they boast. I can’t function as a human being since I awoke, they quip.

John French Bray soft rocks his “Christmas Hangover” every year to new video making sfx, though he can’t quite figure the lip syncing–which makes me nauseated and headachy. It’s just another season, he seems to say. Routine.

Sounding like the ’60s Gentlemen Jesse and His Men also pledge their morning after pain to the Christ birth in “Christmas Hangover.” It was an honor to be over served.

Announcing that they have the inside of their mouths like an Arab’s underpants (as one might say), Arrogant Worms delivers us unto “Christmas Hangover,” a show tune worthy of church choir-ing. The scenario is horrifying, but the musification merry. It’s irony for the kids ‘cuz–see–they think hangovers are funny.

Not All There for the High Holidays

More consequences for over-imbibing over the High Mass? Waking up and not knowing where you are… wait are there bars, the vertical iron-kind?

The well known tragic life leading up to this eye-opener is from The Pogues. “Fairytale of New York” might’ve originally been entitled ‘Christmas Eve in the Drunk Tank’ or sumpin like that.

The Traditionals ‘billy up their punk with a tale of woe in “In the Drunk Tank on Christmas.” I hope you woke up on your side with your dancing shoes on.

Lit up Like a Christmas Tree for the High Holidays

Don’t forget to get all judgey and say boo to booze for Christmas night. Alcohol is bad and kills after all.

Paul Hipp name calls with “Merry Christmas (You’re a Drunk).” He draws lines and names signs. Folk songs come from hurting.

Big band jazz, however, makes the worst humanity glamorous. “No One Likes a Drunk on Christmas Day” especially by Caldwell/Denig/Brinsfield lightens the gloom and doom while wagging the finger at the object of our scorn.

Loaded for the High Holidays

The morning after looms: regret, regurge stains, remembering–not so much.

Merely passing out is one affliction suffered after “Another Drunk Christmas Carol,” a lovely homemade metal bit of play from Death Before Sophistication. I don’t feel so good.

Aftermaths of Christmas drinking include Clashing Plaid with “All I Got for Christmas was Drunk,” a rocking rant that shines with head splitting pride.

Jim Bachmann snarls with country peevishness (and country punnery) for “All I Got for Christmas was Drunk.” He’s picking but not grinning while the world celebrates without him. Poor boy.

Better Off Dead slow down the rhythm with”All I Got for Christmas was Drunk.” But they stay together for some banging light rock melody. All together now.

Knackered for the High Holidays

Sots sup! Or they lap, toss, bib, quaff–you know. Hard drinkers don’t need an excuse to drink. But Xmas is the reason for the saucing, if there ever were one.

So here’s to the boozehounds! We should laugh at them! Go ahead, you have permission.

The New Wave of Swedish Celtic Punk may have begun with Finnegan’s Hell. Their “Drunken Christmas” toasts and toasts and toasts until roasted. Beware their video: neglected children, wasted pregnancy, and punched Santas are not the worst of it.

Swallowing his lyrics and BLUE ALERT swearing up a storm, UZ Worm swaps out ‘Holly Jolly’ for “Alcoholic Christmas.” Silly old sot.

Grayson Walker and J McLaughlin cut a jig in their “Christmas Alcoholic” ruining the yuletides for all but those who wish to laugh and point. It’s pop lounge with a dash of oompah. He ho ha, lookit that.

Jack Kuper has a festive number “An Alcoholic Christmas,” which not only explains how to get high as a kite, but adds footnotes, marginalia, and popups to decorate this bouncy fun little number. Partake!

Juiced for the High Holidays

Alcoholics have to make nice, or at least spew the other direction, during the holidays.

Uncle John brings the Christmas miracle in The Mcdrinkers’ “Drunk on Christmas.” Celtic punk has cobblestone cred. And the boys do indeed rock.

Melancholic becomes the mindset of the mostly muzzy, as evinced by Michael C. Pearson in “My Beerdrunk Soul Is Sadder Than All the Dead Christmas Trees of the World.” It’s unplugged psychedelia, haunting and hurting.

King Automatic and Rich Deluxe jam some surf guitar into their crooning carol “Stay Drunk at Christmas.” It lends a secret agent vibe to an odd mix of Scary Father Christmas footage among the hard living Gauls and Deutsche in the ’60s. Dipsomania seems the norm, sad to say.