B-sides For X-mas

Bryan Adams, 1984 — I don’t know what manner of record producer looked at the world’s christmas music offerings and decided he needed Bryan Adams to record a reggae song, but it was an inspired decision. To those who would point out that Bryan Adams is French-Canadian and in no way qualified or capable of doing reggae, his birth certificate does say that he was born in Kingston, albeit the one in Ontario.

Cheekyboy, 2006 — This is genius: what happens when you put DJ Kool’s classic Let Me Clear My Throat in a darkened room with Hillary Duff and some eggnog and peppermint schnapps? Holiday Magic™, that’s what. (Taken from the 2006 mash-up record Santastic II: Clausome.)

Pete Fountain, 1967 — Nothing says “rock” like a clarinet solo, so if you’re Pete Fountain and you find yourself making a Christmas record, Jingle Bell Rock is the obvious choice. I love how the vocals come in at seemingly random intervals, and then just as you’re ready to start singing along — BAM! — more clarinet. That’s Pete’s gift to the world: more clarinet. Thanks, Pete.

Cyndi Lauper, 1998 — We all know what she was getting at with She Bop, but what the hell is Christmas Conga? I guess it’s what you do when you’re 45 and looking to rekindle that holiday magic, so to speak. I can’t connect all the dots, but somehow I blame Gloria Estefan for this. (Hat tip to Kristina for sending me this monstrosity.)

Ray Bolger, 1963 — Yes, that Ray Bolger. He wasn’t just a figment of Dorothy’s imagination. In real life he wrote and performed songs about developmentally disabled elves whom other elves coerce into breaking into people’s homes in order to give “toys” to “children”. Now there’s a story that needs to be told with Will Ferrell in the lead role.

Boney M, 1981 — From the German-by-way-of-the-West-Indies mastermind who brought us BABY DO YOU WANNA BUMP comes this handsome retelling of a holiday classic. I hear these guys were huge in Iran in the mid-80s. No, seriously.

The Three Suns, 1952 — Okay, maybe Christmas polka is a good idea. Wow, are we done already? Merry Christmas, everyone! See you next year!

Liberace, 1974 — Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about, he’s just eccentric. Lots of guys wear fur coats and diamond rings and eye makeup.

Robert Goulet, 1969 — I’ll cut right to the chase: a reindeer told Robert Goulet that Santa Claus, like the old testament God of the Israelites, is angry with the world’s evil and iniquity, and is therefore canceling Christmas indefinitely. Like a modern-day Jonah, Robert Goulet is burdened with the responsibility to go into the world and warn of Santa’s impending judgment. Wait — what the hell?

69 Boyz, Quad City DJ’s, and K-Nock, 2000 — Hey Player! If you’re like me, you’re terrible at providing your friends and family with a reasonable list of items you might like to receive as gifts. My lists always include things like a new car and a case of beer. This song features not one, but two lists, chock-full of helpful holiday suggestions. Check it out.

Bobby Vinton, 1987 — Christmas polka? Who thought this would be a good idea? “Santa must be Polish/All dressed in red and white/Slipping down the chimney/While you’re asleep at night.” Is the Polish Defamation League aware of this?

New Kids on the Block, 1989 — I can’t believe anyone ever took these guys seriously. It would be such brilliant self-parody if only they weren’t serious. I mean, they announce within the first two TR-808 clave hits that they are, in fact, serious. Following in the footsteps of their forefathers New Edition, the New Kids tried to add a meaningful social message to their holiday single, but I’m not sure they know exactly what that message is supposed to be. It has something to do with children. The children of the world.

Patsy Raye, 1959 — So I guess this is what hipsters were like in the late fifties. That is, if hipsters wrote poetry about Christmas and performed them with a muffled trumpet.

William Hung, 2004 — This isn’t really fair, because William Hung’s entire career is based on the fact that his singing is terrible. And to be honest, I wasn’t all that amused by the whole thing the first time around; for an Asian guy doing awful karaoke versions of popular songs, he wasn’t particularly interesting or innovative. I had a Grinch-style change of heart when I realized that Silver Bells absolutely belongs to William Hung. Like Jeff Buckley covering Hallelujah, Hung has made the definitive version of the song — for better or worse — and all future versions will be measured against it.

Sonny James, 1966 — I don’t really have anything clever to say about this one, except that those kids on the chorus make my ears cry. Instead of conjuring images of childhood innocence and the warmth of Christmas, I can only think of horror-movie kids, like those blonde kids or that movie about the corn. The only thing keeping me listening is that virtuoso celesta (like a glockenspiel; less German, more Mister Rogers), which is a little creepy in and of itself. Creepy good.

C-3PO, Jon Bon Jovi, and some Star Kids or something, 1980 — First of all, yes, this is a Star Wars Christmas song. And yes, the whole record is terrible — and I mean truly, deeply terrible. But that’s not the half of it: it’s also Jon Bon Jovi’s first-ever commercial recording (he’s credited as John Bongiovi), in which he’s commissioned by C-3PO to lead an intergalactic boys choir in singing Christmas greetings to R2-D2. It boggles the mind.

Johnny Paycheck, 1993 — Johnny Paycheck is probably the greatest country singer you’ve never paid attention to. What I love about this tune is that slight tinge of bitterness and anger he brings to an otherwise trite and emotionless song. It’s as if his family kicked him out years ago, saying, “Go spend Christmas at one of those honky tonks you always go to.” We’ll have a honky tonk Christmas, all right. All night long.

New Edition, 1985 — New Edition is indirectly responsible for unleashing a whole lot of crap on the world. From establishing the template for the whole boy band thing, to launching the pop/r&b careers of Bobby Brown and Bell Biv DeVoe, it’s hard to deny their influence on the pop world. Then there’s this 1985 Christmas feel-good-a-thon, which set the gold standard for schmaltzy Christmas pop — a standard we have yet to really improve upon. Thanks, guys.

Captain Kangaroo, 1962 — Captain Kangaroo explains puberty to a fir tree. “Little fir tree, don’t cry so much/You’ll be a Christmas tree next year/You’ll grow so big/You’ll grow so stout/All your little twigs will soon branch out.” Ewww…

Extreme, 1992 — Isn’t Extreme supposed to be a metal band? Has anyone heard an Extreme song that’s even remotely — in the hard rockin’ sense — extreme? No, these gentlemen are known for their softer side, and Christmas Time Again is no exception. It’s like More Than Words' home-schooled little sister, full of sentimental notions that completely miss the point, and occasionally tries to rhyme “time” with “time”. (Nuno, it doesn’t rhyme; it’s the same word.)