Year-round Yuletide oddities
Getting colder!
Even when “It’s a Texas Christmas“ it’s sixty-eight in the shade ya’ll. Rock leads and country follows when Demir Demirkan (ft. Lance Keltner) wail.
“Arizona Christmas” is When the weather cools down it’s a biting, chilly 68 degrees. Abby Walker blends folk and pop to cheery ukulele effect.
Joseph Chilliams (ft. Sen Morimoto & Adam Ness) seems the perfect gentleman with his Christmas “Wishlist.” In electronic soul rapping he croons how it’s all about you, baby. We should 69. No dirty deets, no body parts named, no kiss and tell–just affection. Is it blue?
Seventy degrees may not seem like winter for some y’all. But it’s not hot.
Byronnnn sings And you know we in the south It might be seventy in the winter with cool R+B slickness in “Coolness Christmas.” Family traditions include devotion to God, Countdown on ABC Family, and oatmeal pies. Yes, ma’am.
It might be too early It’s like 70 degrees; But after waiting all year It’s right on time for me introduces “Christmas with You” by John Waller (feat. the Waller family), a swinging pop ensemble of musical fun. Family’s the thing, guys.
Family is the basis for love, and tragedy though. Matthew West’s tale is a country weeper ’bout the boy with the diagnosis in summer. Middle of September still seventy degrees Daddy climbs up in the attic Brings down candles hangs the lights on all the trees. “One Last Christmas” is the horror we’ve heard before, but it still gets ya. Dunnit? (Based on a true… yeah, okay.)
Seventy seems high (for elder years) and also low (for furnace settings). How far will today’s number take us… in rap?
PM has a BLUE ALERT “Wishlist” quid pro quo. For many, detailed sexual favors, she receives everything: including a 70″ plasma. Grawly rap.
Living fast and ballin’ at Christmas time, is Jim Jones’s answer to McCartney’s ‘Wonderful.’ “Dipset X-mas Time” has some baller wants, like: I think the coupe might do the hard thing (For real) Gotta do seventy and out pops the wing (Uh-oh). Laid back rap.
RodneyAlan gets all cozy with his rap “Whatchu Want for Christmas.” He purrs: Give me a melody Sing it to you when we’re wrinkly and seventy–and that’s what he wants from you, chuchi-face.
Some day I know it’s coming When all of us won’t be Together there for Christmas (I hate to face it but we won’t always be together for Christmas), You know Daddy’s seventy-three (it seems hard to believe but your daddy will turn seventy-three) is the tip of the maudlin in The Statler Brothers’ “Something You Can’t Buy“–for Christmas that is! Country smarm to beat all.
Pissed off at his own childhood nostalgia, Frontier Ruckus leads us a merry garage chase to “Orion Town 2.” The brass is brassy, the poetic lyrics beat: I-75 is the swallower of Christmas; The gloom of its gladness is night on our shoulders Connecting our sorrows like ponds with an isthmus. Grow up already!
Back onto the same route: I-75 is a dark roadway lined With the wild electricity of the Animal behaviors… Frontier Ruckus backtracks into banjo strummin’ screaming. “Driving Home, Christmas Eve” drives home the melancholia of Christ’s Mass.
“Rudolph Did a Whoopsie on My Rooftop” includes three quarter of a hundred weight of residue. Ivor Biggun does his music hall burlesque with a jazz bent here, and it’s crap-tastic.
A bit off topic, the talky experimental “Comatose Cakes Penguin” deals with the wintry feel of a dangerous flightless bird. ColdmaN5 explains that He takes a lot of naps 75 hours at a time–These aren’t naps; These are comas. There’s even a Xmas part where he decorates his room like a holiday with the dismembered parts of his enemies. It’s the merriest!
Let’s return to those thrilling days of yesteryear when a precocious tyke slinging a pop tune wasn’t creepy at all! Gayla Peevey encores “77 Santas” for us with all seriousness (and no tiaras) attached.
I can’t seem to tire of Martin Rivas’s haunting alt-folk “Another Christmas 78rpm.” Transcending, man.
Cold enough for you? “Hanukkah in Santa Monica” gets a gospel update from Mike Barnett (feat. Allie Kramer) and now names the temp: a crisp 78!
The other day it dropped to 78 I’m kind of cold, brags “Florida Christmas.” To the Handel chorus Kj-52 X Jonah cleverly disputes your preconceived notions and raps in the holidays, playful-like.
Insistent soul from Sunny lists the wants, including an 80″ screen TV. “Sunny Christmas” seems satisfying, at least materially.
Waka Flocka Flame machine-gun-raps “Grinch” about Gucci had stole 80 pounds–but it’s reefer, brah. Not cool. Now there’s no tree.
“Christmas on Interstate 80” is a juke joint country story from 5 Chinese Brothers. It’s as sad and as hopeful as you’d imagine.
Bish bash bong woo! We’ll be loving Christmas Day Oh, when we’re 80–or so says the headache-inducing pop of Girls Aloud in “I Wanna Kiss You so (Christmas in a Nutshell).” All i want for Christmas is my two Excedrin.
There are roughly 80 Christmases in a lifetime, begins “Adult Christmas” by Moon Moon Moon. This reflective alt-pop emotional exploration is BLUE ALERT brutal so strap in.
Legit country folk from Sofia Tolvak might redeem the whole mess. “One Last Christmas Wish” comes from when you’re eighty years old and you can still remember the love of your life around the tree. ‘Scuse me a moment….
Brad Brewer is south of the Georgia line “A Palm Tree at Christmas.” This country folk is homespun and home-recorded. Kinda rocks, though.
Also deeply South (and warm) Craig Croker Jr. gently strums and folks and pop of “It’s a LowCountry Christmas.” I just about smell it….
Eighty degrees in The Keys is the least of Grandpa C’s problems. Featured in The Christmas Workshop Band Jingles’s “White Christmas Dream,” the rapping oldster is stuck in a horrible holiday loop. Don’t let it catch you. But, if it does, Pass the beer.
Also Floridian, Artie N croons the pop “Xmas in the Sun,” a Calypso-adjacent chill party. Not sure why he’s pretending Mexico–guess 80 isn’t warm enough.
On the other coast, “Boost Christmas” is much more Caribbean (?!?) from SUPERCHARGED (feat. Kwanza Jones & Matty). Pop bubblegum party spew.
Palm Beach is the high pitched pop squealing second-best for Kara Colvin “‘Til I’m Home.” If you can’t be where you want to be be where you are… i guess.