“I Don’t Believe in Santa Claus” care of The Matt Lewis Experience also takes its time with carefully considered nihilism. Rocking folk pop that makes you think/not care.
Tony Marriott croons indie with his weepie “I Don’t Believe in Santa.” Not quite surf-rock, but quite danceable.
Also sad, Luke Mitchell & The Rambunctions make lounge out of indie with “I Don’t Believe in Santa Clause.” Believing in love doesn’t completely get you off the hook, ya doubter you.
Ken’s Loud Band sings the blues with “I Don’t Believe in Santa.” Certainly hard times will follow this choice of views. Brought it on yourself.
Fashionable Glasses believe in nothing in the EDM “Nothing But The Bells On.” Not that they believe in music, but they are fantasizing about you mostly naked. Oh.
Bob for Apples reels us back to indie easy listening with “For Christmas’ Sake.” A lot of contentiousness, including not believing–out of spite, i reckon.
Taylor Ashton ups the cool factor with indie folk (it’s banjo-tastic) in the existential crisis “Santa’s Song (I Don’t Believe in Myself).” See what you’ve gone and done, kids!
There is no Santa Claus maintains Orgy in their angry metal “Santa’s Creepy Secret.” It’s over like Donkey Clover.
Again: “Santa Is a Fake” by Arne Hansen & The Guitarspellers is the hard (dad) rock that digs deep into the heartache of growing up. The word’s out.
Little Suzy also faces reality in News at 5’s “Calling Out for Santa.” This is the hard-nosed takeaway from Mom’s unremitting cancer. Then Timmy suffers from Dad’s alcoholic abuse. Janey’s son gets it worse. And Santa won’t help. Brutal folk.
Summer Camp poops all over your beliefs with “Here Again.” Indie cynicism to feed your depression.
The Vandals decide gift-giving is moot since “I Don’t Believe in Santa Claus.” Punk dissection of our hypocrisy. And humor.
I have about a dozen versions of “Don’t Believe in Christmas” from Smash Mouth to Pearl Jam. But they all repeat without embellishing upon the original verzh from The Sonics 1965 (except perhaps for some of the foreigners).
Again: Otis Gibbs ups the skepticism with “Lookin’ Like a Hippie.” Groovy fiddlin’ makes this blues, but i’m bustin’ my sides on this one.
Merrill Leffmann presents “Daddy Says,” a cute bluegrass ensemble about a dubious kid. Tough logistics. Good stuff.
After an awkward gift exchange among millennials, Santa shows up shouting I’M FOR REAL! It’s all part and parcel for the garage fun of Corbeta Corbata’s “The Spirit Of Giving (Santa’s Lament).” Intense.
Libandano Urfam (ft. Libandano Urfam) tests our patience with the experimental rock “Awful Christmas Rap.” I don’t believe it.
Sure gonna be disappointed “If Santa Don’t Come See Me” declares Allie Jo Thomas. This uncertainty is one of the stages of Advent. As kidsong, it swings.
Bhi Bhiman is merely asking “Who’s Up There?” Motown sound makes the inquiry an accusation, in the funkiest sense possible. The answer: whatever.
Let’s get to the reasoning of disbelief vis a vis Ol’ Nick: Again: Andrew X asks if you’d believe him when he excuses his absences in your life with the song “I am Santa.” Masterful folk yarning.
Hilary Marckx nasals the folk for “Christmas Carols, Christmas Lies.” It’s more about love gone wrong than the great Santa conspiracy. Still, the more you know, the more you’re snowed.
Joe Henson also wrestles with complicated relationships with his handclapping folk country “Lies on Christmas.” Sounds kinda like eating with braces on.
Worth the Wait is sick of “Christmas Lies.” But this western pop is fooling for love. That’s holiday adjacent at best.
In “Passing the Polargraph” The Classic Brown pleads the fifth while testifying about the whole Christmas kerfuffle. Ironic indie flippancy.
Useta believe is akin to not believing. As again: Jeremy Walker reminds us in shambling country that we used to believe but now we’re “Not So Wise Men Anymore.” So there.
Or like when Clint Black remembers being “The Kid” and with slow country aw-shucks condescends all over innocence. Not ‘cuz he knows better now, but MIRACLES… or something.
MNEK croons R+B over the loss of innocence (and love) via “Stopped Believing in Santa.” A broken soul who can really hold a note.
FullMoonPoet slurs up an indie storm with “I Used to Believe in Christmas” and bunches of other myth. But, you know, older/wiser.
Also again: Checklist decides this whole believing schtick is too much for right now. “Next Year for Sure” they indie out so they’ll get presents anyway.
Gaspard Royant brings The Continent to indie pop with “I Can’t Believe It’s Christmas.” Builds symphonically, yet that country twang keeps it grounded.
