The letdown of the end of the year is post-seasonal depressing. No matter how great Xmas was, the wind-down is a wet blanket in comparison.
Jerry Becker begs, Please don’t let “The Day After Christmas” turn cold. He reasons, It’s just another day. And his tuneless muddling is just another song.
More British, Quadband adds a symphonic backbeat to the message–“The Weekend After Christmas” shatters every childhood dream. Harsh, but well rehearsed.
Michael DeLong magics a guitar while reciting a laundry list of what you don’t get in “After Christmas Blues.” It’s a lot. More folk than blues, though.
The least wonderful time of the year, begins “After Christmas (Januarysong).” Wisherkings slows time and melody to make us face the end of joyeaux noel. Symphonic folk weirdness. Damn.
What of the love that wanes, a casualty of the Christmas drama? Is it so hard to lose both the spirit of giving and the highlights of sharing? Or is it all one big bad?
It could just be time to leave. Sun June sings “Christmas is Over” with so little spirit, and nothing left to say. Just going away. Sluggish folk pop.
Best breakup excuse is the (lack of) quality of the gift-giving. An oft-featured chorale Xmas antidote, “The Twelve Days After Christmas,” is here given all the highbrow comedy cracking up Cynthia Lemen & Cool Lemon Jazz can bring to bear. See what they did with their parody….
2nd best excuse is met someone else: The Thneeds club rock a breakup over a mall Santa. Yet “The Night After Christmas” is clever and hopeful from the clever angry left-behind guy. Hats off to the chins-up survivors.
Megg is a mess “3 Days After Christmas.” Bangin’ pop details all the lies, outcries, and whys of the romantic crash and burn. Watch out!
“There in Bristol After Christmas” by Coming Soon (feat. Howard Hughes, Dave Tattersall) orders a side of sad to go with their diner delicacy of breakup. Grunge-y folk ballad.
Rockin’ the warble, Scott Ryan cries that she packed up and lefty him and now it’s “The Day After Christmas.” It’s all broken candy canes and missing carols. Pretty pop, raw feelings.
Or how ’bout, how ’bout this–just forget the whole thing. Earwig is not waiting for you, not this time. Emo-boy slow pop (it gets mad later) tells you what it’s gonna be “Next Christmas.” In yo’ tinsely face!
Christmas is over, now. Did you take down the tree yet? Recycle the wrapping? Pick up the pieces of your shattered love life?
“After December Slips Away” was first recorded by its originators First Call. They lean into the God aspect more. Donny Osmond, for me, makes his cover about heartbreak. So we’ll sneak it in here.
Shouting out the pain Shanghai Liliy Dublin includes trees and babies in the abandonment of lost love. “The Day After Christmas” is best accompanied with fist pounding on any nearby handy furnishing.
Stina Nordenstam doesn’t borrow any Xmas imagery to feel left out in the snow (that’s not there), but her piercing “Soon After Christmas” dawdling pop is about the desperation of wanting to turn the calendar page but being frozen. C’mon! Binge Queen’s Gambit! You’ll make it!
The operatic power of D.C. Anderson doesn’t quite get in the way of the sorrow of “Soon After Christmas,” a recessional walk down regret lane.
Just like waiting until the kids are grown and moved out, some couples keep it together until the holidays are over. Otherwise you have to explain it to the parents, and you lose out on couples’ presents, and you miss out on one last drunk hookup….
Raising the roof, Sweet Spirit wants to know about the continued offerings once “Christmastime is Over.” Will it be tokens of love? Girl retro rock.
Hooting and crooning, Datsen offers that “After Christmas” you can get your divorce papers. Just wait a bit, wouldja? Sad folk.
Joseph Bradshaw and Nikki Lane go full George Jones/Tammy Wynette with “Wait ’til After Christmas.” This melodic sparring match juices up the holidays with side eye and subvocal venom. Gave me shivers.
So, we missed the connection this Christmas? Was there anything at all? Should i give up now? And not wait?
Alex Goot doesn’t hold out quite as much hope for “Next Christmas Eve,” a soul/pop test of vocal chords.
Casting the possibilities among swine, Emmrose wonders whether there’s love in your soul. “Maybe Next Christmas” you’ll know. Lugubrious pop.
Just ask! Will You Still Love Me “Two Weeks After Christmas” Man Feelings want to know with retro pop coolness. Don’t know the answer, but i sure enjoyed the querying.
’50s slow-dance rock backs up The Barbary Coasters as they ask the perennial question: “Will You Still Love Me (After Christmas Break)?” Evidence will be presented, clues will be investigated, friends asked. Yet, the mystery remains.
Remembering this Christmas love “Long Past Christmas Day,” Terry Wetton dwells in a mandolin riff of almost Celtic country wistfulness.
Channeling their inner Elvis, Beatnik Turtle wishes “The Morning After Christmas” to just have a little more with you. Pretend, in rocking doo wop, it isn’t over.
Ken Kondrat and Dave Uchalik figure that “After the Holidays” there’ll be more time to be a couple–even if it takes all year. Sock hop bebop.
Plunking hard on that pee-yanner, Bob Malone bemoans the afterness of Christmas in “The After Christmas Song.” But he still wishes you love and stuff. That gravelly voice makes you believe.
Hilariously awkward, “The Day After Christmas” scripts the wrong guy at the wrong time (with the wrong gift) not making a dent in love, despite his worst intentions. Pretty folk pop from Delightful Young Men.
Brad Paisley agrees. “364 Days to Go” slow waltzes the country music to maintain Christmas did it’s job. We’ll stay connected for the next year.
When Christmas was run and done, we look back wistfully at times, and we say to ourselves… why didn’t I ask her out?! There’s always the next Christmas. That’s what George Michael says–
Thinking you look fine, Parenthetical Girls get tongue-tied with their experimental pop “Post-Christmas Time.” Love is in the punctuation.
“Maybe Next Christmas” with gratuitous sax whispers the soul out of wishes. Chantal Chamberland susses out the dream.
Freedom Fry counts on another year as a mother chance in “Next Christmas.” Blasé millennial pop. (You shouldn’t take such things for granted, young!)
Also living for tomorrow, Allison Young & Carson McKee wonder if “Maybe Next Christmas” they’ll make beautiful music together. Hey, guys, already done it.
“Next Christmas (I’m Gonna Do Things Right)” calculates Chuck Foster with his backroom amateur folk earnest soul. He’s got a list and he’s checking it twice. Good luck, Chuck.
Blurring the gender divides, Desmond admits it’s always been you with pop swing in “Next Christmas.” Suggestive!
Winner of Closest to a Movie Script is the sprightly, off-setting “Next Christmas.” Taylor Ashton & Michael Winograd (feat. Madonna MacGyver) spill out an R+B/pop fusion of will they-won’t they seesawing.
Well, it’s already next year and the banjos tell us “This Time Next Year” is perfect. Colin & Caroline play their parts sweetly.
You know what i think is so wrong with the after-Christmas calendar times? The songs are gone!!
The evolution of Christmas song play is documented by adorable folky ukester Kate Harrington as an opening to the later decay in “Post Christmas Song.” (Spoiler alert: EVERYTHING SUX!)
“Christmas Time is Over” heralds The Bent Fender Band, don’t have to play those tunes no more. Fair rocking for the tired.
Molp gets right to it: there’s no songs the “Day After Christmas.” Sweet folk soaring makes it true.
Now that the holiday’s done, what about making a living? Resume.
On the one hand, Luke Turton is overwhelmed by the smelly mess to the point where he Britpop wishes he were back to work in “Christmas was Yesterday.” Anglo-specific, i s’pose.
Shama and PD’s “Post Christmas Slump” also moans over how there’s nothing to do, not even work. Electro-slow pop sounds like suffering. (Watch out for odd TV-binge solo.)
Matt Roach nails the rock with “‘Twas the Day After Christmas.” Everyone’s lost the joy and they’re back to being jerk, jerk jerks. We’re on the downhill slide away from the goodness now.
With the passing of Christmas, perhaps it is time to open a can of whoopee. I mean, finally, right? Woo-hoo.
Skavengers have caught the spirit of the season so hard that “An After Christmas Song” celebrates that perpetual high. Infectious Filipino ska pop. (Jim Sarthou claims to have originated this ditty, but slows its roll to the point of dreariness.)
With barely a spring in their step KC and The Sunshine Band wave in the ‘fun’ with their “After Christmas Song.” Funeral pop.
Half surf rock, half Beatles throwback “Merry After-Christmas” falters over sped up chipmunk vocals and clumsy tempo. But The Spongetones mean well. I’m just suffering doldrums this music can’t lift me from.
Bill Berry yanks the folk rock out from Dylan with “‘Twas the Night After Christmas“–an after hours party for Santa and company. They have no scruples, those unharnessed reindeer. Damn, nasty.
