Christmas Countdown: 364∑

364 days may be less of a wait for next Xmas when it’s together.

Leanne Weiss croons pop lovery in the mediocre “Christmas Again.” Yes, the 364 days you are with me feel like Christmas Again. You’re gifted!

Today’s the day for “Sexmas” also croons The Collective. All 364 you been waiting to put it on me, lays out the lyrics–but adds cookies and hot chocolate so the time has flown until the smashin’.

The Christmas Kids Cottage rock’n’roll so we can altogether wait the “364 Days” ’til Christmas.

We may be in the year-long Christmas-less time together, but what about Saint Nicholas, Saint Nicholas, at the North Pole 364 days spent all alone. Murder City Devils pretty up the garage rock with fiddle and sentiment for “364 Days.” I’ll drink to that.

Christmas Countdown: 15,000

The Long Ryders, of The Paisley Underground, get my attention with “Christmas in New Zealand,” alt-country about how they’re down under without you–so far away in America (less than ten thousand, actually–maybe Ireland, if you don’t fly? All right, the way the Earth works, you can never be more than 12,450 miles from anyone; so, poetic license). The song, however, is great stuff.

X-claim: whoa

It’s not time to call a halt to the song collecting, but a good WHOA now and then will cause a pause to reflect and collect ourselves. Or, to paraphrase Neo from ‘The Matrix’: THAT”S AMAZING!

Giddyap, Giddyap, Whoa Santa” takes its cue from popular 1960s rock. The Golden Orchestra and Singers knew how to squeeze out a kidsong back then. Hoo hoo!

Matt Hanley handily dispatches our funny ideas with his experimental garage “Whoa Christmas.” It’s an overwhelming time, and i think that ol’ Xmas oughta just take a step back.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2bjft2q2CdE

Wait, Christmas

Sometimes we talk to Xmas like it can hear us. (Not like annoying coworkers who don’t talk about what we talk about.) This apostrophe serves Greek epic poets more than modern songsters.

Heart carefully, slowly pops their “Christmas Waits” like it’s from a Burt Bacharach workshop. Nothing but patience in this weak tempo.

Remus improves the musical air with garage romance. “Christmas can Wait” puts the loved one above the holiday. If she can’t be here, then put it on hold, boychick.

Wait for the Round-Up

Save me a corner by the Okay Chorale, i shine towards an authetic country melody. Make it Christmassy, feature the anticipation, and serve it up chunky and charred. Yummy-haw!

Them snow swept lonesome plains’ll make you pine for the clapboards of the old homestead, so sing Wild Bill featuring the Whiskey Shivers with “I Can’t Wait to Go Home for Christmas Again.” Yeah, it’s maudlin, but in a tight-lipped cowboy way. There’s no crying in cow-pokin’.

Driving folk may put me in mind of one-horse towns that’ll blow away in the breeze. Try LuLu’s “Can’t Wait for Christmas” to see how i’m persuaded.

Even pop, with the right cantering tempo, can put me in a mind of riding the range. Saddle up with Candy Apple Blue (feat. Nick Bramlett) and their not-quite-ironic “I Can’t Wait for Christmas.” Oh to be a child again, when a six-shooter had heroic glory–not political and social qualification.

You want the REAL cowboy song, like from Bonanaza? then try The Caroleer Singers from the old Peter Pan Records days and “Wait for the Wagon on Christmas Day.” This is as authentic as corduroy rawhide. But childish fun.

Perhaps too morose, Ben Aaron drawls “I Can’t Wait for Christmas” like he wouldn’t tolerate none of you-all’s foolishness no how. The hypnotic cadences, however, make my toes tap. It’s like candied chaw.