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by David Kenny
John Travolta summed it up perfectly in Pulp Fiction when he said, "I’m a racing car, and right now I'm in the red!" That’s the way I feel right now. If I hear another Christmas song being played in shop, coming out of a juke box or being belted out by some drunken Christmas revelers walking past my flat at half 3 in the morning, I may well climb up the nearest clock tower with a high powered rifle and start going, as the Sherman tanks say, Postal. Luckily I am not cleaning some unfortunate souls brain off the backseat of a car, nor do I have the threat of Samuel L Jackson going "Superfly TNT" on my ass but surely this mind numbing onslaught of festive music should be classed as a cruel and unusual punishment.
For example last Saturday I heard The Fairy Tale of New York by the toothless Irish fella and Kirsty McCall some where in the region of 8 times. 8TIMES!! I heard it at least 4 times in the space of 90 minutes watching the results come in. I’m sure its never been this bad before. Maybe it’s a misguided attempt to impress the Irish barmaid working in the bar. Mind you, its better than everybody asking her "So what part of Ireland are you from?", when you and I know that the closest they've been to Ireland is O'Neills on St Patrick’s day. And lets just think for moment what this song is actually about. The way I see it, it’s a song about a chronic alcoholic and his prostitute girlfriend having an argument where she berates him for being a scumbag, a maggot and a cheap lousy faggot. I don’t know if the last bit is meant as an insult or if it’s just an observation that he’s rubbish at being homosexual. Who knows?? But be honest, if you saw a reprobate jamboree like this happening in your local high street you'd give it a wide, not sing at the top of your lungs about it.
Then there’s the other perennial offender, Slade. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve nothing against the midlands finest Glam Rock band. I still maintain that Slade could've been one of the biggest bands out of Britain IF they didn’t dress like nerks. However every time I hear Noddy Holder screaming "Its Christmas" I have to repress this urge to shout back " I KNOW! I LIVE IN THE NORTH EAST OF SCOTLAND! ITS OBVIOUS ITS CHRISTMAS BECAUSE THERES ONLY ABOUT AN HOUR OF SUNLIGHT A DAY, ITS FREEZING OUTSIDE AND IM HAEMORRAGING MORE CASH THAN ENRON!!"
Then there’s that other lot banging on about how they wished it was Christmas every day!! Is he mad?? Not only would that be impractible but we already have an obesity problem in this country. This could only be worsened if our nations youth were allowed to gorge themselves on turkey and trifle ever day of the year. So remember, its not fast food chains trying to get your kids fat, its 70s Glam Rockers Wizzard!!
But they are not the only perpetrators of hideous Christmas music, they’re countless others who over the years brought a slew of terrible tunes to haunt us at Christmas time. Even former Beatles were not immune to releasing a Christmas tune. Although I do think its funny how it highlights the differences between the Lennon & McCartney song-writing duo. John Lennon has the somber Merry Christmas (War Is Over). A solemn and sober folk affair reminding us of those less fortunate than ourselves and how the horror of war still ravages many parts of the globe. And the other hand we have McCartney’s “Simply Having A Wonderful Christmas time!” where he’s saying sod war, its Christmas!! Go out and drink till you spew!!
Then there is good old Cliff Richard, the musical antichrist! Where the yanks had Elvis who was corrupting the youth with his hips alone and Jerry Lee Lewis who would seduce your daughter, drink all your booze and burn your house down, Cliff wanted to take everybody on a summer holiday! I can still remember being forced to sign Mistletoe & Wine at school, again another cruel and unusual punishment. It was like the turning of the tide or the changing of the seasons, Cliff Richard Christmas record was unstoppable, it was a force of nature.
Then in the 90s we had to put up with boy bands dressing up as bizarre Eskimos in parkas 4 sizes too big for them and hoods the size of parachutes. These were usually slushy, heart warming ballads which for some reason always seemed to have bells in them, and you still hear them today being pumped out relentlessly. I’m sure that they carry subliminal messages telling us to “SHOP MORE!”
And if it wasn’t some boy band it was usually a fictional character that was trying to get the Christmas number 1. Mr. Blobby, Bob The Builder, The Tweenies…why do parents buy their children this. I don’t care if your 3 year REALLY REALLY wanted! Its just plain wrong.
But I feel sorry for the folk who have to work in shops and supermarkets. The people who have to listen to this crap for a full 8 hour shift. My mate Neil used to work in a convenience store and every Christmas the boss would dust off the “Chrimbo CD” the poor lad had to go through this torture. You could see what affect it had on him. He’d develop a strange twisted smile and a thousand yard stare just like the bloke out of Full Metal Jacket. You’d catch him humming “Last Christmas” by Wham and by the look in his eye; you know they’d broken him.
And another mate of mine manages a high street fashion store and one of his part time workers asked him as far back as the middle of November when the they were getting the Christmas music on. Luckily he was the boss and just gave her a disapproving shake of the head
Yes, I do know that knocking Christmas is easy considering nowadays its camper than Dale Winton on poppers. Yes I know I should stop moaning and being a miserable bastard and just enjoy the holiday. Have a few days off with a good scoof and a good feed. But right now, im off to my works Christmas night where no doubt I will drink too much and make a fool out of myself by dancing to the records I have just been slagging off.
So just remember, if you’re going out this year drink responsibly, look after yourselves and for the love of god don’t sing the Fairytale of New York near any clock towers!!
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