Pa Rum Pum Pum Blech.
I’m not saying all Christmas music is bad, or even a majority of it. And I’m not going to knock, like, Frosty or Rudolph, because if you ask me, people don’t sing enough about snowmen or…reindeer that double as headlights, these days. It’s just, with Christmas songs, they tend to stick half-a-year’s worth of play time into a two-month period, and they’re all sung by at least seven different artists, a fourth of which haven’t done anything since 1995, so it’s a very high concentration of bad. See, just because it’s December doesn’t mean that “Last Christmas” is suddenly a good song, or that you should put Wham! back into rotation at all, and the same goes for Savage Garden covering Wham! and, wait, is that Hilary Duff? It’s not a good song, you guys! Stop singing it! Play that Mariah Carey one, instead! Even the Grinch loves that song, and the Grinch hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season!
And the 12 Days of Christmas – unless you’re Relient K, I do not want to hear about ‘em. Once that starts up, you know you’re gonna be there for a while, and they just keep going down that list, and, twelve verses later, you’re still trying to figure out what half of these things are and why the French hens and turtle doves from days prior wouldn’t pretty much cancel out your need for one calling bird, let alone four of them. And your “true love gave to you," really? I bet he caught half those gifts in his backyard. Lords-a-leaping included. And if the 12 Days of Christmas isn’t bad enough, there’s the 1200 Song-Parodies Of The 12 Days Of Christmas – the first thing of Christmas that’s such a pain to me? Is your stupid song.
Or “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” which, actually, isn’t a bad song (aside from the title). Until you think about it, that is, and realize that there’s all manner of shady behavior going on, over there. Just face it, Anonymous Guy, the girl obviously doesn’t want to stay, and it’s real cute how you keep interrupting each other’s lines, like that, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re trying to pressure her into something that she totally doesn’t want to do. All things considered, it’s mostly creepy, especially when she gets to, “Say, what’s in this drink?” and you realize: this just isn’t going to end well. That’s not a Christmas song, that’s like one of those filmstrips they show you in middle school health class, where That ‘70s Dad offers to drive That ‘70s Babysitter home, and suddenly, he starts hitting on her in the car, and it’s disgusting, and we all learn to…walk home alone in the dark, instead of getting a ride, or something.
I could go on – there’s “Wonderful Christmas Time” (Did you ever notice how many lyrics that song has? Like, hardly any. And the ones it does have? Suck.) and “Holly Jolly Christmas” (oh, by golly…) and have you heard the other verses to “Jingle Bells?” But let’s cut to the worst Christmas song of them all. From the ‘80s, of course, when I guess it was a trend to write songs about Stuff That Mattered and then pile as many artists as you could into one room so they could sing with their eyes closed while wearing those giant headphones…ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I give you: “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” I hate “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” Let’s let the song explain for itself, shall we? Sample lyrics: “At Christmastime it's hard, but when you're having fun; There's a world outside your window, and it's a world of dread and fear…and the Christmas bells that ring there, are the clanging chimes of doom; Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you!” Just...come ON! First of all, Edgar-Allen-Poe, much? And secondly, I understand things aren’t the best, outside my window, and that kids in Africa would enjoy my leftovers, and I’m all for “feeding the world,” but…I just don’t think Christmas songs are supposed to sound so much like the news. And, by the way, just because you’re singing about Christmas and world hunger at the same time doesn’t mean you get to write whatever-the-heck you want, and we’ll just grab our (now guilt-laden) hot cocoa and sing along, okay? So stop that, pop stars of the eighties.
Then again...at least the Pound Puppies aren’t barking it. Which: Yikes.
P.S. I Googled 'NSync, just to make sure I was putting the apostrophe in the right place and...not that I didn't notice it years ago, but my gosh, what a stupid name for a band.