Christmas Countdown: 1983

David Phelps belts out the cheesy kind of pop with “If Everyone Believed.” His long ago Xmas lesson haunts him today. Cue the bells.

Greg Laswell goes lovelorn with “Out of Line” in which you left your heart under the Christmas tree in ’83…. Why’d you do that?

Mr. Oh Shit sings at “A Karaoke Christmas at the Wet Beaver Lounge” for Mr. Cork. While hating on Christmas he admits to leaving up the tree since ’83. What’s that look like?

How long has Santa had an eating problem? Since 1983 claim Thee Elfmen in the jangly surf rockabilly “Santa’s Here.” Gotta believe.

The Drop Shadows hold court over a satiric/satanic “Christmas 1983.” Experimental cat birthing.

Christmas Countdown: 1984

The Kinetics romp and stomp the pop with “Christmas 1984,” a time of superficial glee. Bodacious.

Low Fidelity Love Songs is more introspective with “Christmas (1984).” Just wants to feel like he’s alive, guys. Alt-garage.

The Fragments get bitter with “Merry Christmas 1984.” Indie as she goes. Stop crying in the gutter!

Well, this is no silly old year. This is a literary allusion you should all recognize. Meet the Seavers go highball low lounge jazzy with “Christmas 1984,” pointing out the lengths and depths surveillance Santa will go to. Watch out! Be good!

Christmas Countdown: 1985

Memories are getting slipperier this far back. Marvelann folksings about prison and making stuff up with “Christmas 1985.” Not quite the season of forgiveness that year.

More on point, Megathruster slowrocks about the Wishbook the kids dared to peer in (soon to be overrun by mailboxes full of crap catalogs) the “1985 Sears Christmas Catalog.” Omnibot 2000! Gi Joe Battleship!! Page 444!!! And this is why this blog exists, dear friends. To make sure you have heard THIS song.

Christmas Countdown: 1987

XISLE mixes rap with wandering rhythms (and a samisen?) for their “christmas1987.” Some nice gratitude expressed near the end.

Rittzmas recalls childhood memories in “I Saw Mommy,” rap gone Xmas. Joyful, y’know. Then, BLUE ALERT–YaKnow?! It was kissing… but not lips!

Angrinose gets us back on the experimental wagon trail with “christmas1987,” an acid trip through repeat, reverb, and retro overload. May i just say, wha-?

Christmas Countdown: 1988

Next Door has a haunting back beat with off mic narration called “Christmas Day, 1988.” Bit of an eavesdrop on some memories….

In 1988 it was a “Wrestlemania Christmas” for The Yule Logs. A big chair-smashing, rope-rebounding deal. Rock, yeah.

Christmas Card 1988” by Cory Fay is a Sufjan-Stevens-ish exploration into time and space, which is good. The world needs more wiggy guitar walks.

Christmas Countdown: 1989

Dazed and confused electronic reverb from Ryan McReynolds masks a tale of blood and rage. “Christmas Day 1989,” what is left to say?

Hard garage regret from Please Exist drops memories from “Christmas 1989” like hot turds. Where has the childish excitement gone? The pain of growing up.

Paradise (Christmas, 1989)” from Andrew Samples has some electronic percussion reminiscent of the year, but the whole child’s-toys-making-me-who-I am-while-I’m-dying routine is so overdone.

Christmas 1989” from Andrew Wosylyk sounds like the time it embodies. Pop piffle about wanting and getting and nothing in particular. Like 1989.

Christmas Countdown: 1991

I’m leaving you todayChristmas Morning 1991” gushes Guts Crew Records with ukulele abandon in an attempt to garage band the breakup. Works for me.

Zach Sherwin jew-raps “Pop Music” judging his fatherless musical upbringing and exposure (BLUE ALERT excerpt from Naughty by Nature–which was a Hanukkah 1991 gift). It culminates in a rap battle much later. Regular Disney underdawg that boy.

Christmas Countdown: 1992

Jami Smith gets all filial with the feels in “Christmas 1992.” Sentimental country pop, so you are supposed to choke up.

An antidote to that saccharin would be the sermons and feedbacks of “Christmas 1992” from Heart Heart Julia. Experimentally hopeful with those ‘Frosty’ lines.

Less hopeful, Sam Weinberg’s nostalgia sounds like nails on a chalkboard and his snarky “Christmas Eve, 1992” raises more figurative questions than gives peace. Piano bar (+ harmonica!) sadness.

Indie pop garbling brings Figure (the indie pop project of Yoshinobu Hasebe) to “Christmas Eve of 1992,” a mixed outlet of hope and grief.

Mentioning the not-quite-virgin birth of a celebrity born in ’92 in “Miley Christmas,” Robert Lund and Spaff knock off ‘Christmas Song’ so they can show-shame the made-over diva-in-the-making. Cruel.

Sam Wineman’s over you like it’s ’92. In “New Year’s T” (feat. Andrew Scott Bell) he’s into the holiday dump (New Year New me No you) and gets a bit BLUE ALERT about it. So be warned of this adorable pop rap.

Frankie Staton is Over You in “Christmas 1992.” I’d stand back, m’man. Raging blues make it so.