Category: doo wop

As technology makes cyborgs of us and then erases us, make sure to include video games as a tasty gateway to the singularity. Plug in, my brahs.

Digitally generated. the awkwardly titled “Christmas Video Games Country Intro Music” is credited to CASEY IS RAW–but for all that comes across as gently crooning light country homage. I’m shocked how little i’m not offended.

The Chalkeaters (feat. PiNKII) also take a light fingered approach to the sentimental pop of “It’s a Gamer’s Christmas“.

Retro-Fusion’s “A Video Gaming Christmas” vamps up the pop, but keeps the vision nostalgic sweet. Remember being a kid, when these pastimes were all that mattered? Then you became a Millennial and–same.

The reminder comes in form of “Video Games for Christmas” from DJ Beeswax, hollered out by some random kid who hollers for a living. Is it rap? Or just annoying?

SHYLO!’s “Christmas Video Game” uses the appropriate background electronica, but spouts whatever word salad occurs to them.

In “V.G. Xmas” J. Elijah Cho quietly alt-folk wishes you whatever you want: drugs, time off, everyone else leaving you the hell alone so you can play video games uninterrupted… what a great wisher.

The reindeer games included X-Box, i guess, as parodied in Dillon M.’s “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Gamer“. Sonic and Frogger get referenced.

Two Dudes and a NES hath bestowed upon us an adorable album, Country Christmas. The handful of songs celebrate the holidays and video games with country colorings and a spoonful of talent. Mario and Zelda are name-dropped.

Needle writes Santa about the invincibility problem in ‘Wonder’, but spoils it with “All I Want for Christmas is Yoshi“. Oh well.

Ferg of ArcadeUSA improves the parody trope with “Coleco Coleco Coleco“. What to do on Xmas Day when the arcades are closed….

B. Wells (feat. DaVan Official) marches funereally with “Christmas with the Gang” equating all traditions with video gaming. Molasses rap.

TV’s Kyle produces a samba beat to hit us with “Playing Zelda Instead of Christmas“. Xmas exists to deliver Nintendo, game over. Doowop for the win.

Welcome reprise from Make Like Monkeys whose devilish plans of theft cry out for entrapment: “Mine!!! Rub Out Santa.” Classic retro pop.

BLUE ALERT Psychopathic Rydas caught Santa, so they shot him in the tough as nails “Ryda Holiday.” Nasty rap.

“Waiting for Santa Claus” is the improvved synth rap from Youth on Track about just staying up and being aware of one’s surroundings.

Fitz and the Tantrums caught Santa under the tree. It was not good. “Santa Stole My Lady” is mighty fine doo wop about a dastardly holiday.

Unusual, “When Santa Got Stuck In My Chimney” by The Cogkneys is a Celtic folk dirge that leans towards joy but never gets there.

The Paulette Sisters rev up their recording of “Santa Got Stuck in the Chimney” until i can’t tell if they’re chipmunks or if they’ve been choked recently. At least there’s a happy ending to the pop music here.

“Stuck in the Chimney” by The Coyotes tries the ragtime kidsong approach. It’s silly, punctuated with a bunch of jumpin’ jimminies. But it’s catchy.

“Santa isn’t Here” doo wop The Crystalairs, bc he’s stuck. Move the furniture, Ma, it’s dancin’ time!

The party can’t start without “Fat Santa.” Wealthy Elves take us ’round the block with some rap/rock mashup to get us there.

“Get Some Santa Claus” is little story of a badass from Okra Pickles. Supremely dig the opening and would make it my ringtone if i could figure that out. BLUE ALERT!

“Badass Santa” is busy indie from softbomb (Кузанкин Роман). Wait, is he Russian?

Lee Harris impersonates a tinhorn big band for a ’50s western for kiddos in “Pistol Packin’ Santa Claus.” How have i not included this previously? Great stuff.

Bah & The Humbugs determine who’s the “Boss of Christmas” with pop panache. Bravo!

“Dig That Crazy Santa Claus” is the gone doo wop Pete the Elf exposed me to decades ago. Oscar McLollie & The Honeyjumpers are kicky, oogley, AND real George. Check it.

Three? Is it early or late?! United Vibe got some swing waiting up: Where is he, man? It’s nearly quarter to three! He’s hoping to get a girl, the perfect girl, for Christmas. And she’ll be his “Mrs. Claus.” Go, cat.

Friskar Viljor has the dreads: We woke up one day and I said stay away; It was Christmas to be, we had cried until three yesterday… “Oh No” is a rocking polka of a horrorshow. I’m going to recommend it.

Kill Hannah hits the garage running with “New Heart for Christmas.” This breakup rocker begins so lonely: Navy pier at Christmas you can go at 3am–There will be no one. Icy good.

Also extra early and urbanely depressed, DubleAADank raps boyishly, amateurishly about “Christmas in Hampton.” Colorful, descriptive, though: Want to go J’s but their closed past three, But that’s just Christmas in Hampton for me.

Amusing SUBurban rap from Danny Rick Rick laments: Waking up on Christmas morn I got a feeling I was bad cause my body′s so sore; This usually means I slept walked till 3. “I Know You Want My Snickerdoodle” is casually naughty, but addresses no real social issues. Fine by me. Happy merry.

Girly mushiness from Bridget O’Shannessy dreams: You wake me up with a kiss at quarter past three, You taste like nutmeg and cinnamon brandy. “Christmas Night” is country/pop romanticism overdone sweetly.

Even happier, and country-er, is Tammy Wynette’s “One Happy Christmas.” I heard the doorbell ringing as the clock was striking three, I thought can that be Santa Claus since this is Christmas Eve… but it was that wandering dad returned! All’s forgiven!

It starts and ends 3 O’clock on Christmas morning for Lovers Turn to Monsters in “Circles,” an alt-pop tale of loss both succinct and sad. What it lacks in details it doesn’t make up.

Jeff Speight gets a bit melancholy In the nigh; It’s quarter past three, The snow has stopped falling… and like that Christmas is over. Still, he’s going to light pop wish “Merry Christmas to You.”

All detailed, “Next Christmas Eve” is pop unplugged from CHG Music. The hopeful sentiment is mired in lonely lowness: The kitchen sink, feels so small Here at a Quarter to Three, From the piled-up dishes or a far-away dream. Mixed.

Well, it guess Christ was born “Past Three A Clock” according to an old hymn, handled Celtic-ly by The Chieftans (with The Renaissance Singers and Ronnie Lee). Get up! And–i dunno–dance!

Flo and Joan agree with that timeline in their profane “Christmas (Live).” But their samplings of hymns and sing-along lounge schtick works. Bam a lama lama bam.

Chef and Kitz present gospel harmony with lyrics like: ’Twas Christmas Eve three o’clock in the morning When the little elf gave me this warning: He said don’t open your Christmas stocking Otherwise you’ll be a dead man walking. “The Little Elf” gets nothing but crazy after that. Can i say wow? Playing with fire.

Doo Wop’s back! I remember a Christmas long ago, Christmas Eve taking sleigh rides out in the snow; Later on that night, ’bout a quarter to three Seems I asked you to marry me. And The Echelons vocals go nuts! “Christmas Long Ago” is what it’s all about. God bless.

Christmas wants you to celebrate love. But… if the one that you want isn’t amenable/available Christmas feels like a slap in the stocking.

No Commercial Potential (NCP) wants you present for his “Christmas Presence.” Over four dozen Christmas seasons… or is it a thousand Christmas mornings… he’s been without you. Good memory. Symphonic ballad rock.

It’s only been half a decade for Henry Mansfield who only wants to talk on that “Call on Christmas Eve.” Tangling imagery and symbols this piano concerto of a pop love ballad wants to meet at the dock for a thousand skipping rocks. Seems sincere. Desperate, but up front about it.

“A Thousand Deaths at Christmas” is what it feels like for Møunt Pleasant and Løwlands to miss you. Experimental alt-pop.

“1000 Seasons” is a sprightly rock anthem about long distance missing you from The Rentals. The question becomes: do the words here help? Well, i never meta self-referencing song i didn’t like.

Just only solely “Christmas Alone” by Exxon · Orla Hylleberg Eriksen expresses a pathetic dinner for one, solo dancing, and lighting a thousand candles (one by one) to metal-tinged rock-mania. Call a support group!

Seems like she’s been gone a thousand years croon The Moonglows in “Just a Lonely Christmas.” Slow dance. Then collapse. He‘s been gone a thousand years drawl The Supremes in their later cover, adding more musicality (well, strings) and pain.

The Color Bars self identify as a Brooklyn-based indie pop band with big, melodic hooks, a wry sense of humor, and vaguely psychedelic tendencies. Be the judge listening to the experimental doowop of “Merry Christmas It’s Your Birthday,” the ballad of an agnostic Xmas-hater who has found new reason to rejoice.

Take a sleeping draught and celebrate having the bed all to yourself, woman! What’s with all the moaning!? Another round of (party-style this time) weepie tunes about Missus Claus missing the Mister.

“The Sad Saga of Mrs. Claus” gets the gospel-sized R+B treatment from E. Faye Butler. This roof-raiser got me apologizing for things i never did to the little woman, but hang in there for that final ‘SCREW YOU!’

The Bandana Splits girl doowop “It’s a Lonely Night for Mrs. Claus.” There there, madam, rama lama ding dong.