I gotta be honest: I don’t care about Christmas music.
Don’t read that incorrectly. I didn’t say I didn’t like Christmas music. I simply said I don’t care about it. And, truth be told, I don’t care about much at my senior age. That sounds melodramatic, I know, but the older you get … eh, whatever.
Something I don’t understand, though, is why people are so passionate about it, one way or the other. Sing that Mariah Carey song in June around the wrong people and cross words will be had. Insist that Elvis’ “Blue Christmas” is a soulless piece of dreck in a mixed crowd sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and someone’s holiday could be ruined.
These thoughts circled through my head when I recently came upon a guide to this year’s new Christmas music. Buried within the depths of a new Debbie Gibson record and a Backstreet Boys set were efforts from artists I love in both Alicia Keys and Joss Stone. Upon reading a quick review of the records, I thought, “I should buy those. That could be fun, right?”
And then I promptly closed out of the Google tab, went back to what I was doing and thought nary a word about either until I started thinking about this column.
Why? Because it’s Christmas music. Best-case scenario, the songs are great, I fall in love with them from front to back … and then put everything away come Jan. 1. Love it or hate it, Christmas music is a niche. Unless you can somehow muster up enough passion for Santa Claus and silver bells in May, what’s the point of listening to the stuff beyond a six-week period each year?
Such a notion led me to this conclusion: The reason people get so riled up about Christmas music and when it’s “allowed” to be played is simple: memories. Nobody is in love with Carey’s voice on “All I Want for Christmas Is You”; they’re in love with the memories they have surrounding hearing the song, be it during a screening of “Love Actually” or on any of the thousands of pop stations that play the track 24 hours a day on terrestrial radio around this time of year.
Loving those memories often means you want to relive them. Reliving them means revisiting specific songs at a specific time in hopes that they’re possible to relive. Oftentimes, sadly, they’re not. That’s what makes a good memory a good memory — you’ll never get a replica. Maybe you’ll get close, but the point isn’t to Groundhog Day all the wonderful moments you’ve ever lived. Instead, it’s the thrill of the hope that new ones can one day exist.
There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. For my money, John Lennon’s “Happy Xmas (War Is Over)” is as good as it gets when it comes to Christmas music. The brilliant way he knew how to meld sadness with hope is unparalleled in the medium, and that very specific talent is amplified when you apply it to the holiday season. Conversely, “Christmas in Tahoe,” the holiday album from the hate-able pop band Train, is very special to me for entirely different reasons.
Still, those reasons are mine. And those reasons aren’t enough for me to rally against people loving Christmas music. Nor are they enough for me to rally against people hating Christmas music. The holidays aren’t supposed to be reserved for one only person, one thought, one opinion, one right and one wrong.
They’re supposed to be reserved for an open heart and the potential of being blessed with memories that might just last a lifetime. Whether the backdrop to that is Tom Petty’s “Christmas All Over Again” or Pentatonix’s rendition of “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of The Year” is immaterial to the reality that the love or hate for those songs come from the life that unfolded while they provided a soundtrack, rather than the notes the singers hit when they went for the chorus.
That said, I’m in need of a new memory or two this holiday season. So, on second thought, maybe I’ll revisit my Amazon cart to make sure those latest records from Ms. Keys or Ms. Stone are still in it, even if Jan. 1 isn’t all the far away.
Colin McGuire has been in and out of bands for more than 20 years and also helps produce concerts in and around Frederick. His work has appeared in Alternative Press magazine, PopMatters and 72 Hours, among other outlets. He is convinced that the difference between being in a band and being in a romantic relationship is less than minimal. Contact him at mcguire.colin@gmail.com.
