Dear reader, I understand that the next few days are likely to be busy ones, so I promise to keep these posts short. (I do intend to keep this countdown going until New Year’s Day, but these are my last chances to post Christmas songs.)
This means that I won’t be able to get into the full back story of “Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24”, but here are the basic facts:
The song, which incorporates parts of “Carol of the Bells” and “God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen”, was first released by Savatage (a heavy-metal band featuring future members of Trans-Siberian Orchestra) on a 1995 album called Dead Winter Dead.
That’s a rather grim title, but it’s a fitting one, given the subject matter; Dead Winter Dead is a concept album about the Bosnian War. “Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24” (re-released by TSO on its 1996 debut album, Christmas Eve and Other Stories) was inspired in part by the real-life story of Vedran Smailović, a Bosnian musician who played his cello in ruined buildings during the siege of Sarajevo. Smailović’s story also inspired the novel The Cellist of Sarajevo by Steven Galloway.
Okay, I promised to keep this short. Enjoy the music, and don’t forget to get to bed nice and early tonight. After all, Santa Claus won’t come until you’re sleeping.
Today is Festivus! Which gives me another opportunity to feature some non-Christmas holiday music.
“But John,” I hear you saying, “Festivus is a made-up holiday!”
That is correct. All holidays are made up.
“But John,” I hear you saying, “Festivus was just made up for a TV sitcom!”
Not so, dear reader. Festivus was certainly popularized when it appeared as a plot point in “The Strike”, a 1997 episode of Seinfeld. However, it was actually invented decades earlier, in 1966, by Daniel O’Keefe, an American writer and editor, to commemorate his first date with his wife three years earlier.
The rest of the world would probably never have heard of Festivus if O’Keefe’s son, Dan, hadn’t grown up to become a television writer. Dan, you may have guessed by now, wrote “The Strike”, and he incorporated his father’s made-up holiday, complete with its “feats of strength” and “airing of grievances”, into the episode.
Festivus has since become an almost-real celebration observed by possibly dozens of people. Perhaps more. So I set out to find actual Festivus songs to mark the occasion. This was no easy task.
Beloved indie singer-songwriter and violinist Andrew Bird included a track called “Festivus” on his 2023 album Outside Problems…but it’s an instrumental.
There are also a number of Festivus songs on YouTube with not-so-thinly veiled anti-Christmas lyrics, but those are tiresome and not worth posting here. They also don’t have actual videos, so that’s also disqualifying.
But then I found this song, which not only draws most of its lyrics directly from the Seinfeld episode, but also kind of has a video. That’s something! And here it is:
If anyone ever commented on any of these posts, they might suggest that one genre I have been neglecting is straight-up rock music. Like, fist-in-the-air, hair-whipping, Camaro-driving, Circle-K-parking-lot-loitering hard-rockin’ rock. And there’s a good reason for that. Most attempts at making Christmas songs in that genre are, in a word, lame.
Raise your hand if you ever need to hear AC/DC’s “Mistress for Christmas” again. Anyone?
There are exceptions to every rule, of course. “Christmas Time (Don’t Let the Bells End)” by the Darkness, released in 2003 (feel old yet?) is a classic for a reason. It doesn’t hurt that Justin Hawkins and company have always seemed to be perfectly aware of how ridiculous a ’70s-style hard-rock band sounds (and looks) in the 21st century. They are also smart enough to realize that self-awareness need be no impediment to rocking out with your stocking out.
Now, I’m no expert on U.K. slang, but I’m reasonably sure that “bell-end” is a commonly used insult referring to a particular anatomical feature. Surely that’s just a coincidence. These guys would never be that crude, would they?
CHRISTMAS BONUS
Not to be outdone (by themselves), the Darkness just released a brand-new Christmas song, “Mistletoe and Wine”. Well, it’s technically not a new song, but a cover a tune that Cliff Richard had a hit with back in the ’80s. Enjoy your bonus, and try not to spend it all at once.
December 21 is officially the first day of winter, and it also marks the first day of Yule. What exactly that means depends on who you ask, since historians seem pretty divided on whether Yule refers to a pagan solstice celebration that predates Christianity or is really just another name for Christmas.
Whatever the case, most modern people—whether they call themselves pagans, Christians, or something else entirely—would likely not want to have anything to do with a traditional Nordic Yule celebration, at least not as it is described in the Saga of Haakon the Good:
It was ancient custom that when sacrifice was to be made, all farmers were to come to the heathen temple and bring along with them the food they needed while the feast lasted. At this feast all were to take part of the drinking of ale. Also all kinds of livestock were killed in connection with it, horses also; and all the blood from them was called hlaut [sacrificial blood], and hlautbolli, the vessel holding the blood; and hlautteinar, the sacrificial twigs [aspergills]. These were fashioned like sprinklers, and with them were to be smeared all over with blood the pedestals of the idols and also the walls of the temple within and without; and likewise the men present were to be sprinkled with blood. But the meat of the animals was to be boiled and served as food at the banquet. Fires were to be lighted in the middle of the temple floor, and kettles hung over the fires. The sacrificial beaker was to be borne around the fire, and he who made the feast and was chieftain, was to bless the beaker as well as all the sacrificial meat.
That’s a lot of blood and fire! I think I’ll stick with eating rum balls and watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas (the 1966 original, naturally).
I suspect that Camille and Kennerly Kitt, the American duo known as the Harp Twins, probably wouldn’t be too keen on slaughtering horses and smearing their blood all over every conceivable surface, but you can never tell.
The sisters did write a song about the Nordic Yule, though, sort of. “Norsk Jul” is not so much about horse-blood showers in heathen temples as it is about family gatherings with cakes and pies and a tree and candles on the mantle. Oh, and then there’s that line that says “Because He came we’ll once again be together (in glory).”
So…it’s a Christmas song. Sorry, pagans. It’s really hard to find a decent tune about animal sacrifice these days.
In retrospect, Elvis’s 1968 television special is most often returned to as “The ’68 Comeback Special”, because it marked both his return to performing live in front of an audience (after a seven-year absence) and the beginning of a career resurgence.
The show’s official title, however, was Singer Presents…Elvis. Because there’s nothing more rock ‘n’ roll than a network TV production sponsored by a sewing-machine company.
Presley’s manager, Colonel Tom Parker, struck a deal with NBC that was to have seen his client featured in a holiday-themed special. The trouble with that was that Elvis had no interest in making his big comeback with a bunch of Christmas carols. Good call!
Presley got his way, and ended up performing only one Christmas song, “Blue Christmas”. Check it out below.
There are plenty of melancholic Christmas songs, and they tend to fall into a couple of different categories. There’s the lovelorn variety, exemplified by “Blue Christmas” and “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)”, and the missing-home type, like “I’ll Be Home for Christmas”.
“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” belongs in the latter category, sort of. In the context of the movie for which it was written, the song is really more about the anticipation of missing home. Written by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane for 1944’s Meet Me in St. Louis, the tune underscores a moment of family turmoil, as everyone grapples with the father’s decision to accept a job promotion that will force them to relocate to New York City. On Christmas Eve, Judy Garland’s character, Esther, sings it to lift the spirits of her heartbroken five-year-old sister Tootie, played by Margaret O’Brien.
No, really, this song is supposed to cheer the kid up! At least, that was the brief. When Martin and Blane delivered the song, though, its lyrics were a little darker than the ones we all know and love today: “Have yourself a merry little Christmas/It may be your last/Next year we may all be living in the past.”
Gee, thanks, sis. I feel much better now.
Needless to say, Garland found these lines a tad depressing, and so did her co-star Tom Drake and director Vincente Minnelli (Garland’s future husband). Martin initially resisted making any changes, but ultimately bowed to the pressure and altered a few lines. “It may be your last/Next year we may all be living in the past” became “Let your heart be light/Next year all our troubles will be out of sight”.
Even with these changes, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” was still too dour for Frank Sinatra. Sure he had recorded the song that way in 1948, but when he decided to take another crack at it for his 1957 Christmas album, Sinatra zeroed in on the line “until then we’ll have to muddle through somehow,” reportedly telling Martin, “the name of my album is A Jolly Christmas. Do you think you could jolly up that line for me?”
In response, Martin rewrote it as “hang a shining star upon the highest bough.” He also made a number of other tweaks, shifting the lyrics from the future tense into the present, so the song leans more toward celebrating joy in the moment than waiting for happier days to come.
This was the right move, all things considered. After all, not many people actively want to feel depressed in the festive season; and for those who do, well, that’s what A Charlie Brown Christmas is for.
One of the most common tropes in Christmas songs (the secular ones, at least, and especially the ones aimed at kids) is anticipation for the arrival of a certain chubby gift-giver.
Think about it: “Here Comes Santa Claus (Right Down Santa Claus Lane)”, “Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town”, “(Everybody’s Waitin’ for) The Man With the Bag”… the list goes on.
Not one of these songs addresses the fact that the entire premise of Santa Claus is kind of creepy. Giving gifts to children is all well and good, but the idea that he somehow knows whether every kid has been good or bad according to his own standards—he’s making a list!—suggests that childhood is a dystopian surveillance state that not even George Orwell could have dreamed up.
Even if you’re in Kris Kringle’s good books, you get rewarded for it when the guy sneaks into your house in the middle of the night. And don’t even think about staying up all night to catch him, because he’s stealthy enough to avoid all detection.
There’s really only one song (and video) I can think of that even comes close to capturing how weird and potentially frightening this entire enterprise starts to seem if you think about it too much: “Santa’s Coming Over” by Low.
For some reason, I have been seeing a lot of online discourse about “Wonderful Christmastime” this year. It seems, shockingly, that not everyone loves it. Some have even suggested that it’s one of the worst Christmas records ever made.
Bah! Humbug! I won’t hear it! In a world—this ever-changing world in which we’re living—where Wham!’s “Last Christmas” exists, Paul McCartney’s 1979 single could never be the worst. Truth be told, I was never a fan of “Wonderful Christmastime” until recently. It grew on me. But, seriously, listen to those late-’70s synthesizers! Listen to that choir of children singing their song! They’ve practiced all year long!
Fun fact: there is no children’s choir on the track at all. In fact, every sound heard on the song was performed by McCartney himself. All the members of Wings do appear in the video, which suggests that McCartney’s idea of having a wonderful Christmastime involves getting plastered at the local pub. Hard to argue with that, I guess.
I wanted to kill two birds—two turtle doves, perhaps—with one stone today. Metaphorically speaking. None of our avian friends were harmed in the making of this blog post.
I thought it might be fun to see if there were any new Christmas releases that I could spotlight here, and while the pickings were slim, I did find this one gem—and it’s by a Canadian artist, so that’s a second bird down. Metaphorically speaking.
PIQSIQ is an Inuit throat-singing duo made up of sisters Tiffany Ayalik and Inuksuk Mackay. Rooted in traditional katajjaq, their music mixes those age-old vocal techniques with beats, loops, and electronic effects. Their recently released version of “Jingle Bells” eschews the original lyrics in favour of minor-key melody and haunting atmosphere, employing crystalline harmonies evocative of deepest winter.
That’s not a music video, though, so here’s another seasonal treat from PIQSIQ; their version of “Coventry Carol” from four years ago.
For more seasonally appropriate music from PIQSIQ, check out the duo’s 2019 Christmas EP, Quviasugvik: In Search of Harmony. Do yourself a favour and read the enlightening liner notes, which delve into how this music reflects the complicated history of Inuit peoples and the Christian church.
So, my diligent monitoring of non-Christmas holidays and observances finally pays off today.
I realize I said the same thing yesterday, but today I mean it in a different way. You see, according to the one website I keep checking because I’m lazy, today is something called Cat Herders Day. And while that’s probably a reference that I’m not getting, it’s a great excuse to post this:
I’m not going to apologize for this. I love the Jingle Cats unashamedly. Nor will I post a second video to make up for the fact that this is really a novelty song. I have a cold and I’m tired and… okay, fine. Have this. It’s also fun and doesn’t feature samples of cats meowing.
It’s Andrew Bird’s version of Vince Guaraldi’s “Skating”, which is of course from the soundtrack to A Charlie Brown Christmas. There’s no actual video per se, just Bird with a mug and a book and the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree in the background.
I like to think he’s reading A Christmas Carol and sipping on a mug of Smoking Bishop that he heated up with a red-hot fireplace poker.
Also, yes, you can ice-skate at Rockefeller Center, as anyone who has seen the movie Elf could tell you.
John Lucas 