Category: altrock

The skins get big ups on Christmas ‘cuz of some starstruck urchin banging and pounding on whatever he could find at the Nativity. Typical kindergarten behavior. Let’s respond.

Mighty Magic Pants begins the parade against the noise complaint with the honestly folk “Lay Down Your Drum, Little Drummer Boy.” Take that drum and beat it, kid.

Herschel Cedricson aims for that joke about the drum solo that overstays its welcome in a song with his Something Awful “Little Drummer Boy.” Sorry, Bing.

Rapping for Jaysus, Zach S embarrasses himself with the mixup “Drummer Boy.” Look away.

More appropriately, Pineapple Posse raps the ups and downs of “Drumma Boy.” They got the sticks.

The Little Drum Machine Boy seems like an obvious alt-play on the legend. Beck may have started it with an observance over Hanukkah. Vice Versa plays it pretty straight with apparently a robot wanting presents. Wolf Blitzer lays the digital on thick with their electronica. Jane’s Party goes all out when a kid raiding Gramma’s attic for her old Roland gets invited by Santa for a ride-along for being so dope. [Check out synthesizer offerings for more.]

Ray Stevens spoofs up the tune with “The Little Drummer Boy–Next Door.” No peace on earth with that noise! Boy that’s a bother. (Even more of a bother is Pat Boone‘s original retake.)

Watch Out for Rockets pairs that boy with “Drummer Girl” for some frolicking garage frisky-do-dah. Why’s he waiting in a tree?? Must be an indie thing.

Just more bells these chimes, eh?

Charley Pride recalls “Christmas in My Home Town.” Chimes in the square call all together for this easy listening big band kind of stuff.

Alternately, Geoffrey Savage savages the opening melody of 1974’s animated special ”Twas the Night Before Christmas’ entitled “Christmas Chimes are Calling.” It’s Santa they’re calling for, btw.

Todd Michalik chants out “Christmas Chimes” with mixed media in the pursuit of madness.

“When The Christmas Chimes Are Ringing” by Lewis James (1922) is that operatic ragtime love crooning that comes off so grating nay more. hey, those are gongs!

Southern rock the tells a tale, “Chimes of Christmas” is Beat of Alabama unraveling the ones who didn’t get none. (Or AI, p’raps.)

Snappy zydeco from Brenda Lee, “Papa Noel” also has chimes down on the Bayou. Hot stuff.

The Chills sing out those “Christmas Chimes” bong bong bongbongbong. It’s all a metaphor. You know, like life. Indie zippiness.

Well, if Christmas’s all just someone else’s story… what are we gonna do?

“Let’s Pretend It is Christmas” from Marthie Nel Hauptfleisch and Bill White is a pretty folk pop ballad about going through the motions (for the baby?) that’s almost hopeful.

Paul Parnell is troubled by the lack of snow (and brotherly love?), so he’ll “Pretend It’s Christmas.” Cheesy easy listening.

Jigsaw Seen unspools prog rock for a more mystical “Pretend It’s Christmas.” Now we’re getting nowhere.

Sampling like crazy, Akira the Don sets up a “Game of Pretend” (no harm intended). Spoken word new age self delusion. What?

Making pretend is the goal of Them Dirty Dimes who carousel pop for “Let’s Pretend (It’s Christmas Time).” A lovely, waltzing illusion.

Shane James is gonna “Just Pretend It’s Christmas” this year with insistent pop back beats and repetition. That’s the way we do it at my house.

The Non Traditionals broaden our lack with the sea shanty adjacent indie “Let’s Pretend It’s December.” I pretend that every day on the blog.

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.

“Is Santa Real??….” is BLUE ALERT practice time from ƒucĸvɪlle & Lil Dookie. This supposed comedy is masturbatory garage experimentalism. Erm.

HorrorScene rehaunts our blog with the echoic indie “Believing in Santa.” It’ll keep you up nights.

Aspiga will do anything–out of a broken heart–and “I’ll Make You Believe” apparently in love. But comparing your heart to the North Pole connects us to the holidays. Reverb indie.

Insistently Make Like Monkeys figures The Jig is Up when they retro pop as cool as Big Daddio when they attack in the mall. “Mr. Santa Claus, I Know Who You Are” results in an humbling melee, but belief is maintained. Groovy.

Jaime Adler, Ilan Galkoff, & Harriet Turnbull also wrestle with misidentification (wrong as wrong gifts!), but apply reconciliatory pop with “Santa, You’re Still My Friend.” Despite snitching, this letter ends in a kick line. Weee!

Will you still “Believe in Me” Cassie McMullin chants to a toy piano. This oddly underdeveloped indie shares vulnerability, but inspires little hope. The season’ll do that to a body.

To believe in Santa some need proof that’s more tactile. Loop Line claims “We Know Santa’s Real” bc they rode in the sleigh. To the North Pole. And to the mall. Okay, they just KNOW. Swing and sway pop.

Ben Rendall takes some R+B pop moves to prove “Santa is Real.” Don’t care how you feel…. (The Chipmunk Version surprisingly undermines the whole process.)

Bug-eyed Jerry Colonna returns with proof of Santa. It’s “Sleigh Bells In The Sky,” a 1953 jazz band wack-as-doody of silliness. That’s Paul Sells leading the orchestra, not Spike Jones. Not that i can tell.

“If There is a Santa,” begins Nooshi… then itemize all the good you’d see in the world as a result. Like in Quantum Mechanics and stuff. Electronic indie leaning into kidsong.

Fountain Dew keeps on waking up in the middle of the night with “That Christmas Feeling.” Shredding punk that suddenly stops. Who knows why.

“Wake Me Up When Christmas Comes” is New Age voice tricks by CHEMICAL ROMANCE LOUIS EARN LUMBER. It’s dream in a coma.

Exceptional melding of genres occurs in Noodle Noggin’s “Ding Dong, Wake Me Up.” From Barney Gumble to The Wiggles to Korn: it’s a boisterous buffet that’s Advent adjacent. (It’s little better than the Wham! mashup “Wake Me Up on the Rooftop.”)

Reindeer Tribe telescopes the focus to a singularity with “Wake Up Jacob.” Made it rhyme there, you see. Time to shake those chains, goes the alt rock lyrics.

Reprising “It’s Christmas Time Again,” Harley Poe rocks us down the rabbit hole of chainsaw terror about a Santa you Do Not Want to See.

He saw/she saw in “If I Saw Santa Claus” by Billy Mancini, Enzo Mancini, & Miah Whitmore. They all want love, and know who they have to see and pop sing to to get some. Rap bridge!

Usually a solitary event, “The Night We Saw Santa Claus” becomes a folk pop moment for father and son Ken and Patrick Simpson. Sweet stuff, but you can tell a five-year-old helped out here.

“I Saw Santa Claus in a Bar” ululates Grandma Gnaw w/Sofia tambourini. The beat is on in this carnival indie. What was Santa doing there?

Forest Blakk romanticizes that the kids can’t sleep at least they’re trying when he’s “Coming Home for Christmas“–that magical moment of hope and fantasy before you get home and the parents want to know if you made any money as a singer. Soaring pop.

“I Think It’s Christmas” warbles Lucy Ellis with show tune earnestness. But amid all the beauty, she’s cold and alone: Somehow, I still can’t find sleep. It’s that bad.

Hans Pucket indies “I Don’t Know What To Get You For Christmas (Do I Really Love You​?​)” with woo-woo-ing passion. It keeps him up, really. (I know–gift card!)