Time to double down on the count. The number two is so primary, every other Christmas song mentions it. We’ll wend our way through the options to see if we can score pure silver
Having fun with some old friends, Some I’ve known since I was two, American Authors pulls out all the cheese to pop perform “Christmas Karaoke.” No irony here.
Having grief without friends and family, Paul Rhea (feat. Susan Shewbridge) sing folk about how “Christmas Just Ain’t Christmas Anymore.” We’ve nearly starved for two long barren years after some cold and heartless war. Metaphor? Or is this the perennial question of how ANYONE can have joy? Whew.
MBG BadBoy busts the rhyme slowly for a lonely “Christmas.” Two years now I’ve been looking for a girlfriend, he slurs. So that’s not a great holiday.
Also sad, Checklist laments that sometime, 2 years before You passed me by, though I was a pretty good boy. What follows, in metal toned rock earnestness, is a description of what our forlorn one found under the tree. “Next Year for Sure.” they conclude.
Snidely, Brato Useba charms with “The Proper Christmas Spirit,” which includes starting too early, buying crap, and silly emergencies [Shit we forgot to get something for your sister in law, Didn’t she have a baby two years ago in March?]. Symphonic pop that pleases.
After a tantrum by a “Pouty Kid (I See No Reason for the Season)” over disappointing gifts–Two years more the wiser, brother starts to speak up to set him straight. What results is a haunting, melodic philosophic dissertation about sucking it up from The Ornaments of Bowling Green. Nihilism ahoy.
Blue Alert! Shotgun Soul slow R+B/raps the cynical “It’s Christmas,” as in It’s fuckin’ Christmas like two months a year. Lots of cultural name-dropping to make hot-button points, but it’s millennial mopiness. Great for the disenfranchised.
Pissing and moaning, Thrice a Chuckle grunge pops how it’s “Too Soon for Christmas.” How too soon? It’s still two months away. Hey, that’s the holiday season! So, it’s ninety degrees outside! How do the Australians do it?!
Collin Derrick wants you to “Take Me South for Christmas.” The parameters? Just give me an ocean view for a week or two, baby–This Christmas. Ukulele pop happiness.
The suicide-by-chop tree in the woods is begging passersby to “Take Me Home for Christmas.” Aubryn makes scary lines like Let me be your family For a week or two pretty with her beer barrel slow folk pop.
Circling the drain, Currier describes a depressed one: suffering, desperate, immobile [Haven’t left this spot for nearly two weeks]. “How About Another Rum and Coke (Merry X-mas)” is glacial garage, slo-mo tragedy.
Dandy country rock from Cammi Rockey exposes “Rudolph’s True Glow“–he’s a lush! A menu of alcoholic beverages details how the lead-dear got completely lit. Two weeks after Christmas Rudolph’s senses had come back and couldn’t remember a thing. Don’t tell the kids.