Year-round Yuletide oddities
Twist and clap! “Christmas 1974” from Silvery is whoa-ohh partying rocking something something fun.
McCarthy Trenching gets almost cowboy with his folksy reminiscent “Christmas 1974,” a snapshot of a young (lonely) bride and her DIY Christmas in a farmhouse somewhere. Spookily quaint. (Missing his mom…?)
Sometimes, the date is just another day. So what that it’s Christmas?
Jim White’s cowboy altrock “Christmas Day” is a bummer of a time to travel. He was crying in a Greyhound station on Christmas Day, in 1998, but saved by a mysterious loved one who took pity.
Kye Alfred Hillig, on the other metaphor, poses “Christmas 1998” as a straight shooting reveal about how you ain’t all that. Cowboy folk this time, but still hipster pop poetry. Just less concrete.
Simple lip service to when songs were written, produced, performed–whatever–doesn’t rate my countdown. Unless i’m desperate.
Pop-O-Pies takes “Christmas Time in Frisco – 2009” to task for filth, lawlessness, and rampant violence. Sparkly garage-lite.
The hipster poetry of “On Christmas Day the World Ended (2009)” got my attention. This Bosch painting of Xmas hell is a bad acid trip, or a great screenplay–or both! Celtic folk rock.
Tim Minchin’s what’s-it-all-about-anyway Christmas song “White Wine in the Sun” is folk pop wisdom which truly celebrates the agnostic aspects of a religious holiday. He doesn’t say NOT, he doesn’t say YEP, but he does like the excuse to get together–even with his daughter (whose birth is celebrated when the song was written 2009) who may LATER be nine thousand miles away and called upon to reunite as family. I mean, was JC home for his birthday every year?
“When U C Me” from K-Drama culture rap-ferences Christ and his Xmas with the wish list of ten thousand souls he’s putting on his hit list. City life is tough.
Ten thousand miles apart was the cruelest winter in Heaven, according to Gareth Moulton’s “Cloud Cover (The Boys).” Poetic misery by means of unplugged light rock.
A fascination with the “Fairy Lights” makes _Patrickconnor smile. Folk psychedelia touches upon ten thousand smiles on Christmas Eve, otherwise–huh?
“Christmas Eve” by Nickel Creek is a sad alt-rock breakup song for Xmas. He’s got ten thousand words to say–and hope–but they don’t help.
The Caroleers bring down the countdown with the observation of “Ten Thousand Santa Clauses (But Not One Gift for Me).” Kidsong with a caution: careful what you grasp for.
Hey Kye is eco-shocked to see so many Christmas trees mown down after procuring their own up high like “The Mountain Goats.” Folk guilt-inducement.
Barely Christmas, Mary Chapin Carpenter has an epiphany in the arrivals section of some airport (after being twenty thousand feet up and seeing city lights look like Xmas lights) in her airy folk masterwork “Transcendental Reunion.”
Rando hipster imagery in “Christmas Lights” decorate with must be up to a half a million of the incandescent buggers. J Church will be waiting a thousand years in the desert to make his point (?). Hard beaten folk.
Greater than one million.
Eli Caravajal has a crisis of faith with “Can’t Believe,” a folk sojourn about a breakup. But after millions and millions of sickening Christmas movies, only connects to drug references. A Covid-19 colored anti-romance.
“The Most Wonderful Day of the Year” connects millions of girls and boys to toys via ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.’
The million dollar houses prolly cost more than one million, as seen in the distance during “Jullåten 2004” by Suburban Kids With Biblical Names. Wild guitar rocking soft pop.
Caroline Chan revs up the agenda for the wee ones with “Millions of Trees.” A deforestation folk bummer. (‘Tho it begins a solution dialogue….)
Emily Sanders, Chris Parkinson, and Pete Morton get hyperbolic about YOU, ya weirdo. “Seven Billion Eccentrics” mentions Xmas, but mostly picks on how unique you are as an individual. After much friendly country folk joshing, they decide you’re the best. Shucks.
The magic of Xmas reindeer flight is a matter of faith. You believe in it. (Or not, but who needs that? That was yesterday.)
Cosy Sheridan has some light folk rock proselytization “The Night the Reindeer Fly.” Those aeronauts are matter of fact background for the amazing night of holiday celebration.
Sharon Gudereit teases the imagination of you old realists in “Where the Reindeer Fly,” a new age symphonic examination of childlike conviction. A bit ponderous for a flight of fancy, but pretty pipes.