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December 2005

The Worst Songs (again, in no particular order)

The Christmas Song (Please Christmas Don’t Be Late) – The Chipmunks. It’s not just that the speeded-up recording technology to create chipmunk voices is antiquated (and not in a good way) and annoying… it’s that the rest of the song blows, too. I mean, wotta happy Christmas ditty… three chipmunk kids chirping out a list of what they want, including the oh-so-coveted… um, hula hoop, interspersed with the father-figure screaming “ALVIIIIIIN!” I don’t care how dumb Alvin is, why does Dave HAVE to keep shrieking at him like a banshee? The only thing missing is the sound of Dave cracking open a beer or threatening to take a belt to the chipmunks if they don’t sing right. Maybe this song should’ve been featured on the Jackson 5 Christmas Album…?

All I Want for Christmas – Spike Jones

So fucking annoying. I can’t even imagine when this song was first released, like, back in 1917 or something, that it was cute and entertaining. But a lisping kid is merely annoying. Really annoying. Totally and completely fucking ANNOYING!

Joy: A Holiday Collection – Jewel

Yeah, the whole album. So, The Husband-Type Man bought it. Brought it home. Put it on. Listened to it through once. And immediately apologized. It’s a nothing album. She does nothing new, different or special with the songs. Bo-ring!

Christmas With Julie Andrews

Yeah, again, the whole album. You’d think her Christmas album would be beautiful. You’d be wrong. No soul. No heart. Just soprano warbling with all your traditional favorites.

Happy Chirstmas (War is Over) – Neil Diamond

I dig my share of Neil, but this? He takes a perfect song, and turns it into a straining power ballad. For that matter, there’s…

Little Drummer Boy – Neil Diamond

A straining power ballad with Neil rolling his “r”s. Oi to the world. I guess I should add both of Neil’s Christmas albums to the Worst list.

Jingle Cats.

I love cats. I hate this album. It’s more annoying than the barking dogs, the chipmunks, and the lisping toothless kid combined. The ear-curdling yowls on the high notes alone make this unlistenable. The only redeeming thing about it was when we’d put it on for Mouse, and he’d be absolutely befuddled, and sit and stare at the stereo speakers for ages with an expression of complete confusion on his boogery face… and then give us this pained “Guys? What the hell is THIS shit?” look.

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus – John Mellencamp

Seeing Mommy kissing Santa Claus isn’t necessarily a good thing, but it’s ten times worse when down-home redneck boy John Cougar Mellancamp is mush-mouthing a rock song about it.

Blue Christmas – Elvis

The back up singers blow. The harmonies suck. And Elvis sounds like a bad Elvis impersonator. Under water. I can’t even stomach this for the kitsch factor!

Christmas Is The Time To Say I Love You – Billy Squier.

I hate sing-alongs anyway, and it’s only worse when the song itself is a mess of screeched banalities. Of course, usually “banal” and “Christmas music” are interchangeable, but there’s gotta be SOME compensation. And it ain’t lyrics like “from grownup to minor no one could be finer.”

Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town – Bruce Springsteen

It’s not too much to say it sounds like Bruce is… well… as Sugarbear once evocatively put it, trying to pinch a loaf. Plus the banter about Clarence getting a new saxophone is painful.

I’m getting the feeling that I don’t like traditional rock ‘n roll.

Do You Hear What I Hear – Whitney Houston

Shut! UP!! NIPPY!!!

Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer

So, so, so painfully lame. It’s not funny. It’s not cute. It’s not clever. Of course, to make it worse, when it first came out, Mom and good ol’ boy Stepfather 2 thought it was just HYSTERICAL, so they’d blast it and sing along, and then got the 45 and played that, and- Ugh. But bad connotations aside, the song still sucks Rudolph wang. The “incriminating Claus-marks on her back” makes it sound like Grandma got a little reindeer-style action from the man in red along with the whole sled hit-and-run.

Christmas with the Brady Bunch: The Brady Bunch

Another whole album. This was a stunning addition to our Christmas album collection when The Husband-Type Man gave it to me. Too bad it’s unlistenable. To anyone who’s witnessed the Brady Variety Hour in all its Technicolor horror, y’all know that the Bradys can’t sing. No, not even Greg. Not even Carol. No.

Maybe it would’ve been better if there were more ensemble songs, but for the most part, each “kid” gets their own song and Krimma Karaokes their way painfully through it. Ah, so much potential, so completely awry. *orders The Partridge Family Christmas album*

Frosty the Snowman – any version

I hated him when I was a kid. I hate him now. I’m not sure why I hate Frosty so much, but it’s a personal hate. No matter who sings about him – Jimmy Durante, the Jackson Five, the Beach Boys, the Cocteau Twins – I still hate it. Maybe it’s the “thumpity thump thump” that’s so stupid. No one can make this song enjoyable.

Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer – any version

Even more than Frosty, I hate Rudolph. I guess I can tolerate Burl Ives’ version of this song for pure sentimentality. Anyway, so there’s this reindeer who has a glow-in-the-dark nose. And what do all the neighborhood kids do when one kid is different? They pick on him. See, even at the North Pole, where Santa Claus lives an unselfish life giving presents to all the children of the world, reindeer are still nasty, cliquey, racist assfucks! Why doesn’t Santa tell them to knock it off? No, it’s only when Rudolph proves useful that they accept him. But I’ll bet Donder still hides reindeer turds in Rudolph’s bed at night.

The thing that makes Rudolph even MORE annoying is the sing-along “like a lightbulb!” version of it. I went Christmas caroling in high school once where the Pastor’s Daughter had to make a big showy-offy deal of “like a lightbulb!” and “like Monopoly!” and “like George Wash-ing-tooooon!” so that all the coots in the old folks’ homes would tut and laugh over her, and I know that Pastor’s Daughters usually have issues and insecurities, but after the dozenth rendition of “like a lightbulb!” I was ready to lash her to the back of Santa’s sleigh on some foggy Christmas Eve.

Jingle Bells – Barbra Streisand.

There’s a holiday tradition in West Hollywood. At some point, the day after Thanksgiving, either I or the Slacker Hacker will call the other and start blasting this song. For the remaining month, the Barbra Holiday Crank Calls continue. One year, Bobby left ten Barbra Crank Calls on my voicemail in one day.

This is the worst holiday song in the world. It’s grating, annoying, jarring, unpleasant, and retarded. “Upsot?” is dumb enough, but when Babs starts tweaking out at the end with

Jingle bells, jingle bells jing jangle
J-j-j-j-j-jingle bells, J-j-j-j-j-jangle bells
J-j-j-j-j-j all the way

it’s j-j-j-j-just… fucking A! I’d rather eat fruitcake and green bean casserole. Together. And make my stomach “upsot!” “upsot?”

*cues up Medusa and dials The Slacker Hacker*

 

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