In a bid to join in the debate, I present you the totally objective and completely unofficial ranking of the five best Christmas songs… at least that’s the way I see it.
Ignoring the compelling fact that Roy Wood is equipped with both the beard and hair to make him an impressive department store Santa, this has made the cut because purely and simply it carries a message that I am 100% supportive of. I *do* wish it could be Christmas every day, a point I’ve argued about at length with my mother, who insists the novelty would wear off and the amount of mince pies consumed would be unkind on the gut. I maintain she’s mistaken.
What is Christmas if it isn’t getting belligerently drunk, sleeping it off in the slammer, all the while yelling abuse at loved ones? Shane McGowan’s raspy tones combined with Kirsty MacColl’s folksy voice go together like Christmas pudding and shed-loads of brandy. Despite the increasingly melancholic lyrics, yelling along to them is the perfect way to let off some festive steam.
Okay, I’ll admit it; this one is just in there for the pure nostalgia-fest that comes with it. I’m not sure it even falls under the ‘Christmas song’ category, as it’s almost definitely a hymn. But who upon hearing those angelic voices and tuneful ‘ding, dong’s isn’t filled with memories? Even if it is just of the Wet Bandits.
Obviously this is classic. Is it because Noddy Holder consistently looks like the happiest man in the world whenever he sings it live, despite him likely performing it so often that he probably has a Grinch-esque hatred for the holiday? No. Is it because of the edgy use of the word Xmas in lieu of Christmas in the title? No. It’s because Noddy’s maniacal screech of ‘it’s CHRIISTMAAAS’ is reminiscent of a man on the edge – something you can totally relate to after spending more than 10 minutes on Oxford Street on any given Saturday in December.
No one can hit those high notes like Mariah. Believe me, I’ve tried, much to the chagrin of the pack of wild dogs I accidentally summoned when attempting it. What’s so great about this ditty (apart from Mariah’s kickass one piece ski suit) is that you can sing it to literally anyone and anything. Want to admit to your office crush that you totally dig them? Send them this. Want a new phone for Christmas? Play this in the Apple shop and hope for the best. Want the last roast potato at Christmas dinner? You stand on a chair and you serenade that potato until the entire room knows how much you want it.
I think the thing I find so appealing about this song is that Gayla Peevey is daring to dream. She casually ignores her mother’s warnings of the hippo likely eating her, because she’s all ready with a massage for her hippo hero who will happily live in her two door garage. Gayla teaches us all valuable lesson at Christmas – shoot for the moon. Even if you miss you may hit a star (or maybe your parents will get you a puppy instead).
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.