Perhaps the novelty Christmas songs have gone too far tracing Mrs. Claus’s moral turpitude. What about the maturer wife of Santa?
[Sidebar: have to spend another minute or eight for Mark Arnett’s Santa’s lament “I Miss You Most at Christmas (Now That You are Dead).” Here’s the entire comedy skit with Eugene Claus processing his grief. The actual song starts three and a half minutes in. Guess she’s not a sex symbol dead.]
“Mrs. Claus in Menopause” is that amiable agenda-heavy comedy showtune from Mary Keydash. Hot flash is the harshest punchline, so family friendly.
1980s valley girl protest punk from The Sterilles complains about all things Christmas. But “Mrs. Claus Has Menopause” seems to target the problems on one source: that old lady.
Something about the ideal marriage makes all the young studs want to divide and conquer. Mrs. Claus has a target between her legs.
Hoover’s G-String has a melancholy morning after alt number about Mrs. Claus. ‘Put the blame on me,’ they offer, as some form of gentlemen, with “The Ballad of Mrs. Claus.” What’s her walk of shame look like?
Bad Royale (feat Jay Nahge) has it in for “Mrs. Claus.” This rap gets BLUE but sounds full service for the lady.
Clumsy country honky tonk from Rico Loco sets up “A Booty Call for Mrs. Claus.” She’ll get (oh my) a pokin’ and a squirtin.’ And even a reamin’. Guessin’ that’s obscene.
Size 14 punks “Mrs. Claus” with verve and gusto. It may have been the wine… the first time. But the upshot is–no one’s getting presents anywhere near this guy. VERY NAUGHTY.
Most of us know Mrs. Santa Claus from her list o’ chores. Certainly when Nat King Cole sang “Mrs. Santa Claus” back in 1953, the definition of the homemaker was the housework done.
We should know better over the decades, but just about the time of the Millennium Hal Willis also presents the mindless domesticity of “Mrs. Santa Claus,” a pop country salute to the jolly house-slave.
Overlong and undertalented, Bob ‘The Music Doctor’ Blake’s “Mrs. Santa Claus” offers the least appreciation for all she does.
Talented but old, The Olympics meld an unfortunate elctro-beat into their soul touting how “Without Mrs. Santa Claus” the shopping might not get done.
Let’s leave it at the twinkly punk cover of NKC’s “Mrs. Santa Claus” from A Proper Kiss. The sassy dirge-like pronouncement of the lyrics adds the irony i was looking for. Thank you.
The unbridled joy of gathering up the whole family for a big 12:25 blowout can not be contained. Joyous Noel, suckas!
Sometimes it’s just a shared sense of horsin’ around with those who GET IT. Kim Townsend shares a houseful of goofs with bluegrass gospellin’ “Family Christmas Song.” It’s like grampa burlesque.
Elgelbert Humperdink almost sings an emotion with his celebration of “A Christmas for the Family.” Easy listening stoicism.
Also measured and careful, 2nd Timothy 3:16 intones ‘Joy… JOY!’ in their pop “Christmas Time with the Family.” Monotonic.
Perhaps a reggae beat will convince you of the level of happiness? Richard Gamble’s “Mr. Chill Brings His Family and Friends” to a kids’ party of Xmas proportions. Okay, half baked.
Punk it up! Pretty Boy Floyd turns it up with “Happy Family” a paean to, well, the title! It’s upbeat with the appropriate screaming.
I still pat myself on the back for that post group title about all the different creatures and the holidays. Some of the strangest songs ever were found for this taxonomy. Let’s sample more.
Starting with the basics “Cockroach Christmas” is a family beer barrel polka from Lou and Peter Berryman about how you can be the Santa for the less vertebrate.
More miss than hit, “We Wish You a Bloody Squidmas” from Rathergood.com gets all Cthulhu with threatening flaying from the Christmas critter in question.
“Festus the Christmas Crab” is a valiant folk effort from Gus Gregory, but his bathroom acoustics are only slightly worse than his sodden lyricism.
Hipwaders get with the program with their krazy kidding kidsong “Christmas Vicuna.” Bachata corrido, muy bueno.
Riffing on the 1984 Band Aid sensation, Fortress of Attitude raises awareness with “Dogs Don’t It’s Christmastime.” Feed the daw-ogs!
The other kind of children’s music is the repetitive silliness of Brian Kinder’s “Kitty Kitty Christmas.” Wotta a mess for adults to clean up! His “Mooey Christmas” is a bit better. Bit o’ wit.
Grumpy Cat presents Cats Across America with the playful pop number “It’s Hard to be a Cat at Christmas.” Something to do with not getting enough presents.
More crazy, Kristin Key child pops “Christmas Kitty” to the fringe of sanity. I can nearly smell it.
Dr. BLT shuffle sfx to intro “Christmas on the Farm.” Then he gets down, gets funky. Wait for the fun. Red State Update gets right to the noises with their own “Christmas on the Farm.” Sounds like chores, t’me. Farmer Jason’s back with mariachi brass and foggy mountain bluegrass square dancing out “Christmas on the Farm.” Some mutts mentioned, but this is all about the party.
Not enough! Three Day Threshold & Summer Villains get kidsong with their list demanding “I Want a Zoo for Christmas.” Folk fun that smells.
A post-punk set-up from Flaming Lips in “Christmas at the Zoo.” I got agenda for Xmas, whadju get?
‘Cross the pond, class anger is much more punk than urban. Oh yes, both suffer from narcissistic infantilism and drunken outrage, but Brit anti-establishmentarianism is so AGAINST the mercantile capitalism. Not socialist, per se, more anarchist. Which is just a linguistic step away from anti-Christ. So boo on his birthday.
Thorazine backbeats the hell out of “Merry Stupid *ucking Christmas.” It’s a song only a pierced oy boy could love. Gotta pogo to it, though, guv.
The Destructors play rage like a brand in “Merry Xmas & Fuck Off.” Catchy, but a bit empty on the inside.
Cherry2000 upload a bit of the old electronica to their “Merry Fucking Christmas” clashtastic caroling. Parsley?!
Tankard plays “Fuck Christmas” full of righteous self indignation. A family round to be screamed just before Santa is shot down. Charming.
Open the hellsmouth and let the bile flow! It’s the best time of the year to be forgiving, so let us forgive unmitigated hatred… of Christmas!
From the film ‘Alien Sex Party’ The Pork Guys seem to try on their bad boy personae with “Fuck Christmas,” a warm up to paroxysm. Metalhead punk.
Actual punk is mushmouthed and breathless. Like MDC and “Merry Fucking Christmas.” Actual chords in here, however–and is that some polka influence?
Punk music likes to screw with you, so Immoral Discipline’s DJ sampling and extra warm up time may be excused. Once they get into their conniptions it’s all careful balance and near-enunciation. I can unnerstan’em. So i highlight it for you.
‘kay, there’s a song about Christmas clothes as a gift you may have heard. I even included it once. I think we should avoid it. (It’s TERRIBLE.)
(And the excellent parody by Robert Lund.) (But not the Scary Pete equally perverse version.) (Or the trailer park satire from TAL and CC Productions.) (Or the Truma family feud.) (And not the overlong Oddwalk Ministries expose of the kid scammer.)
A slightly punk version of the ultra-Christian cry “Christmas Shoes” by FM Static should cover this. Unless there’s some change left over…?
Got your cards bought yet? Dealing out a deck of commercially printed hastily signed holiday observations to select family and friends has gone outta style what with the electronic age. The old insult ‘snail mail’ to indicate paper posting is so past it as to seem quaint. But there was a time, kiddos and kiddettes, when the measure of social value was how many cards you sent and how many you stacked on your mantel. Why, it was a form of decoration in and of itself. Being ‘cut from the list’ just about began feuds and vendettas to last generations.
[Confusingly, many ‘Christmas Card’ songs are themselves the sentiment that you would see transcribed in the card. Those are way too schmaltzy for this irony man. Only songs that mention, describe or feature cards may be permitted herein.]
Let us not fret about the wheres and whys of this passé pose, but instead celebrate the choosing, signing, and stamping in song.
No more fitting tribute than the creaky old reminiscence “An Old Christmas Card,” about that folded fragment of your love found on the floor–from before you left! Ray Smith first (1949) got cornpone cowboy about it. Jim Reeves most famously sealed the sadness. But let’s get even more emotional–Severe gushes punk all over. Now that’s a cover.
