Category: garage

Getting jazzy with the zither “Dreaming Dreams of Christmas” by Marlana Hillary rolls through childhood nostalgia, creating an existential loop of hope and regret.

While we’ve been exposed to songs about NOT dreaming (from Gilbert O’Sullivan) before on this blog, the Pete Jones parody: “I’m Really Not Dreaming Of A White Christmas” really sells the muddle of whether or not dreams happen.

Muzicchick’s “I’m Not Dreaming of a White Christmas” is EDM pontificating about how foolish our Xmas chatter is. It’s space age spiffy.

Plugging into punk garage The Aborted apply warped agenda to “I’m Dreaming Of A Caucasian Christmas.” Preaching to the queer, brother.

Can you just skip the chimney?

Michelle Hill and The Snowflakes garage up the indie “All I Want For Christmas Is Food (Passover My Chimney).” Perhaps Hebrew in origin, these folks just say No to the el.

Fountain Dew reveals the aluminum foil and lightbulb which means “The Fireplace is a Hoax.” Claus blocked! Effective garage.

More assertively, Dick Blowtorch wails garage electronica about “Waiting by da Chimney with a Baseball Bat (Oh Yeah).” I feel his pain (in my ears).

Markologic kicks off Santa sex with this unambiguity that fucking Father Christmas is usually pretty same sex. “I’m Going to Fuck Santa Claus” is a lively (and funny) rap about fulfilling conjoining.

BeanzTaken gets even more graphic with the gay in the childlike rap of “I Fucked Santa.” Just finding their way.

Lil Frik identifies with the ASLO immortal OG homie Kringle. “I Fucked Santa Claus” is workmanlike rap without much passion. In and out.

Song Boys play more punk (pop) with their tell-all “Merry Christmas (I Just Fucked Santa.” Got ‘r done.

Jesus Penis growls out the garage rage of “I Sodomized Santa Claus” like it was a butthole of a chore. Whew.

DON’T SHOOT!

Responding to the noise of someone coming “Down My Chimney,” the narrator in Alder H. Linden Music’s musical (rap?) experience DOES ask questions first.

Stronie goes to the trouble through hair rock to advise putting down the guns in the festive “Raise a Glass.” Tiny bit rando, there.

The experimental rap “Don’t Shoot My Birds, Santa” by DJ Bowler Hat establishes a number of bluebirds, and the imminence of death. But beyond that, i’m stymied.

Some kids made a song. “Don’t Shoot Santa.” They call themselves [image control]. It’s kinda good. Okay. Garage rock like. Yeah. So, no shooting. Or being alone.

Somebody loves ‘A Christmas Story.’ Not me. Maybe these guys.

DJ UnEq samples catch phrases to a mix beat for “Shoot Your Eye Out (4-track demo).” It gets crazy. Danceable? Jury’s out.

Then there’s Fall Out Boy’s “Yule Shoot Your Eye Out“–a real millennial meh about the holidays. Indie about not wanting you, or home, or anything. Not about guns, just the metaphor thingie. (angel chipmunks this nicely.)

“Wrap It Like A Christmas Present, Or Yule Shoot An Eye Out” is an all you can’t stand buffet of sexual metaphors using yuletide terms from DG. Shooting must be… oh. Sloppy rap.

Matt Wixson’s Flying Circus punks up “You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out” with narration from that movie to some slight amusement.

RKVC musicalizes many of the memorable lines from that movie with some bompin’ club music in “You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out.” The title’s the chorus.

Some might say I’m codependent, I don’t care, allows Brinkwater & Hammeta in their light pop “Christmastime’s the Worst“–unless I’m with you. Loving, perhaps, but using the significant other as a human shield for family holiday events is pushing it.

Migratory Animals go so far as to Blah blah blah in their “Happy Christmas to Me.” Well, it could be La la la, but this garage rock takes few prisoners.

For The Putz it was “The Worst Christmas Ever” when you stepped out and didn’t quite return by gift-exchanging time. Pop with a hard rock backbeat.

Toughskins, on the other cheek, figure “It Could be Worse” if you were here for Xmas. Unapologetic garage.

We may have blasphemed before on the blog. God Damn for a holy epithet came up a couple times.

This Christmas, Is the year of the damned begins Pretty Little Fake’s “This Year Santa’s Coming for You.” Sure, it’s the Pandemic, but it’s worse than this pop ditty lets on.

“Damn ChristmasSs” by The Legendary snakeSNAKEsnake is rousing yet earthy blues that expresses itself. Everyone: don’t give a damn together!

When it’s Splitsville in Texas, then “God​-​Damn This Christmas” according to  Here Holy Spain. Garage pain of the jealous type.

Rob From Amersfoort’s “Office Party From Hell” demands only one savory solution: burn down the building. Electronic rock with Devo-aspirations.

brokeninc isn’t that worried for having dinner for “Christmas in Hell.” Folk amelioration.

a balladeer sings out his Welcome to “Christmas from Hell” with classic pop rock yeah yeah yeahs. It makes this awkwardness almost tolerable.

“The Christmas From Hell” for Utter Butter is not a nice thing. It smells bad even. Garage lite.

Starting out, Chris Walker takes us on a “Christmas Train” ride that is saccharine enough to keep the children bouncing in their seats.

Wobbling a bit, Proletariats Are Making Pizza Book Club And Rock And Roll Band garage pop their “Christmas Train” about holiday cheer. But the vocal tones creep me out.

Savak brings out a drunken Santa to helm the “Christmas Train.” Dreamy reggae pop that poses the question: Is Christmas a lie? Keep your heads down, kids!

Suffering from sickness, being drafted, and the girl taking a break, The New Omelettes celebrate the “Christmas Train” as much as they are able. Power garage, so not so much with the enjoyment. Cool tune, though.