“How Do I Wrap My Heart for Christmas?” addresses this quandry. The inimitable Randy Travis yodel-croons through this country hee-hawery (with a shout out to the manger man).
Iza hardens the soul/pop for “Gift Wrap My Heart,” which lectures her man for crass materialism. See, her other man has decorated her soul, and–oh, you tell me.
If i may digress slightly, Johnny Cole & The Reptiles offer that you ought to “Wrap My Heart in Velvet” or it will break. Doo wop is all we need this time of year (or in 1961) (and a tangential mention of a possible Xmas topic).
Still missing you! And there’s a Christmas tree here.
Alt folk with Shannon St. Clare is husky warbling. She wonders if you think of her “When You Put up Your Christmas Tree.” And gets in a few digs, too.
It’s not ok when you’re not there “Standing by the Christmas Tree” sounds classier with classic piano and some Irish. Cara Dillon raises the bar despite the platitudes.
Wendell Ferguson gets more clever with “Pining ‘Round the Christmas Tree.” His electric country tickling is punny and hopeful. Go, Wendell.
Come back home! cries D’Lannie so you can be “By the Christmas Tree” with her. It’ll make or break the whole holiday. I presume, ‘cuz it’s electric pop and that’s superficially dramatic.
Ed Mills is missing her–i think she’s dead, Jim. “Sitting by the Christmas Tree” is not always on key, but it’s sincerely sad country.
I get Take me back this time and some other lamentation in this hard folk strummer. But “A Small Gathering Around a Pine Tree” is about broken dreams only known to the stoned poet. Fun mixed media experimentation.
On the verge of not making it, Latka rocks the house (w/some bad ass fiddlin’) “From Under the Christmas Tree.” She could make it, but she’s been found out. Damn her.
Meghan Trainor’s hit off her debut album became a strong candidate for “Song of the Summer”… in a negative review, Time named “All About That Bass” as the fifth worst song of the year… with 16 weeks in total it holds the record for total most weeks in number one at the Slovenian official singles charts SloTop50… received Grammy Award nominations for Record of the Year and Song of the Year… spent eight weeks atop the US Billboard Hot 100… topped the charts in 20 other countries, including Canada, New Zealand, Switzerland and the United Kingdom… sold 11 million units worldwide… the third best-selling song of 2014 and one of the best-selling singles of all time.
Girls of Suburbia honor Santa’s size in their parody of no clever name.
Streator High School love/hate Santa’s girth with “All About that Waist.” Kids today!
Jennifer Rose gets a bit more lascivious with the chubby chasing in “I Love My Santa Claus,” shimmying and gyrating like this is a ‘Santa Baby’ parody. (Hang on, a plate of burger and fries for Santa?!)
LindZ Owen plays sultry to Santa as well to get “On the Nice List.” Nice hair brush vocals.
shayshaymb approaches Santa from another side with “All About that Beard.” Is that all that saint is to you?
Richard Peachey dips shallowly for “All About that Base” honoring the Christmas tree stand. Mmmm–maybe.
Nisah (for Mig Me) changes the subject with “All About the Feast.” You know it’s a feast when there’s pasta, and rice, and fries.
curveball111 throws the food topic into another court with “I Wanna Stuff My Face” full of latkes. Oi, oil.
Mission Church Ventura make the best of their talent pool with their secular crit and religious twist: “All About that Baby.”
Faith Promise Church likes presents and trees as much as the baby king with “All About that Bass – Christmas Remix.” Bass here is the low sound of that pop guitar playing (i guess).
Allegra DelRossi (and family) feature Jesus in “All About that Babe,” a Christmas song that piggybacks on religion.
Vapid blond devotees shake it for “All About the Christ” starring Heather Krol. That million mile stare creeps the bajeepers outta me, though.
Notching the cross up a bit AJ Sheffield go high with “All About the Christ” apparently recorded on a flip phone, but skitted out by frolicsome teen believers. (Why does Mary have a knitted beard?)
Aubrey Howell gets the idea of parody with “All About that List.” I like it because it’s heartfelt fun.
NIIC The singing Dog treats us to Kyle McCarthy’s “All I Want for Christmas is a Boy.” Wait, is that a girl singing? Pumpin’ pop bubblegum.
While we’ve opened that door give a norm welcome to Alaska Thunderfuck, Courtney Act, and Willam Belli trans-ing it up with “Dear Santa Bring Me a Man.” Diva devotees salute the power of the show stopping monster song.
Kira Isabella is definitely a girl who wants “A Country Boy for Christmas.” She’s got pretty long list of what he should look like, sound like, and what he should drive. Good thing she can sing.
The Dell Vetts may be boy crazy, because “I Want a Boy for Christmas” gets the full-on girl doo wop treatment. Serious love for music at least.
Jive is an over-encompassing category of jazz dancing that begins with Cab Calloway and ends with rock’n’roll sock hopping. (In ballroom it’s black dancing, all that stuff African Americans did better that we want to appropriate for competetive struttin’.)
Miss Gail and the Jumpin’ Jam Band’s “Santa’s Jingle and Jive” sounds like an instructional for the impaired; it’s clear and clearly enunciated. But it has a spark.
Let’s honor Dave Rudolf with cool and beyond
for his “Santa’s Got a Zoot Suit.” This pachuco identifier isn’t the same ethnicity of jive, but it has all the symptoms. It’s jumpin’.
Much as i love discovering nuggets on the internet in addition to my collection, some are irresponsibly posted as that song without provenance. Why, that’s like publishing a paper without scholarly citations! Yet, Kelvin Pratt’s offering of “Santa Jive” is way too cool to pass up, even without who did it when. You gotta hear this one. Straight from the fridge, dad.
But doo-wop creates a slow motion bellyrubbing sensibility that drives a man and a woman (or whatever) together for some kinetic connection. Call it dance.
Eddie Floyd has some jazzy finger-snapping playfulness in his “Doo Wop Christmas.” But could i dance to it? Oh, yeah. Just.
I don’t know if doo-wop is too street corner to credit, but some boss tunes get the disrespect of mislabeling. The Martels want you to think it’s a “Rockin’ Santa Claus.” when in fact it’s a doo woppin’ Santa Claus. Dig it. Granted we’re digging the roots of rock, but–oh, bother–what a messy gardening metaphor!
The Marshall Brothers call it boogie woogie, but you know the right steps to this early R&B clearly DOO WOP number: “Mr. Santa’s Boogie.” Jive, you turkey!
Let’s get it right: “Doo Wop Christmas” by The Van-dells has the lively scat and vocal braiding that really rocks. Time. To. Dance.
On the other hand, Santa seeming omnipresent may overload our senses to the point whereas the small minded may discount any of his presence due to his inconceivability.
The Nay-Santers. The dis-en-sant-ed. The incomplete people.
A few songs, then, out of pity, for those deniers who believe Santa’s job is to be nothing.
Sigh.
BLUE ALERT. Nick Helm, comically competing on some singing show, lets his anger out a crack at the revelation that “There Ain’t No Fucking Santa Claus.” Hard rocking, hard feelings.
BLUE ALERT. Driller profanely rages metal against the milk and cookies with their “There’s No Santa Claus.” Even though he doesn’t exist, i think they’d kill him. Jesus, too.
BLUE ALERT. Trick Daddy raps the quandary colorfully with “Ain’t No Santa.” Hrm, maybe this is just a PSA directing kids to believe or end up dead nigas.
Perhaps too drunk to realize what they’re saying The Damned report “There Ain’t No Sanity Clause.” We may have crossed over into more personal garage rock issues.
Let’s stay prog rock and explore the possibility that we’ve merely misplaced the Wise Winterman. Captain Beefheart inspects whether or not “There’s No Santa on the Evening Stage.” It’s the blues.
Jazzy blues also come from Russ Lorenson singing a Barry Manilow number “I Guess there Ain’t No Santa Claus.” I think he’s confusing Santa with basic happiness. …well, that ain’t wrong.
Ron Holden and the Thunderbirds got it figured out. When they ask “Who Sez There Ain’t No Santy Claus?” they mean: who wants to have a horrible, empty life spiraling downward into doom. Rock the doo wop here and BELIEVE.
