8. Christmas Songs
Christmas songs are, generally, terrible.
Drowning in schmaltz, lacking in irony and banging on about snow, reindeer and mistletoe — things about as far from a Melbourne summer as possible.
They also seem to preach values and experiences that simply don’t align with my experience of Christmas.
As any kid of divorced parents will tell you — Christmas is not quite the time of peace and happiness the marketing pitch would have you believe.
There are moments of beauty, of course, but there’s difficulty, complexity, communication breakdowns, scheduling issues and conflicts too.
But, one of the wonders of the unstoppable march of time is that you get to grow past those experiences, and start building your own memories with your own people.
So over time, my reflexive distaste of all things Christmas has mellowed and, eventually, disappeared.
Now it’s a time of seeing family and friends and relaxing over too much food, a little too much drink and giving gifts to the newer members of the family.
(Christmas) Music With Meaning
And part of that evolution was finding Christmas songs that made sense to me, that echoed my experience a little better than whatever Bing Crosby is singing about.
Songs that actually meant something to me.
So here they are — my (Christmas) Music with Meaning.
For many, Christmas time is family time, and family time isn’t necessarily a happy time for everyone.
Family dynamics can be challenging at the best of times — throw in stress, pressure and alcohol and off we go.
Which is why this song makes me laugh every time I hear it, because the music is in the classic Christmas sing-a-long, waltz-y style, but with lyrics that will make your grandmother blush.
I love the idea of unwitting family members swaying along with the melody, singing the chorus, then “hang on, wait — what was that?”
In fact, I’ve tried to find some lyrics I could quote in this post and frankly, this is about it:
The table’s set, we raise a toast
The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost
I’m so glad this day only comes once a year
You can keep your opinions, your presents, your ‘Happy New Year’
They call this Christmas where I’m from
They call this Christmas where I’m from
Also, the video makes me cack every year too…
2. Is This Christmas? — The Wombats.
I love the way this song nails that question — Is this Christmas? Because this was a question I would ask.
Because my Christmas certainly wasn’t how it looked in the movies.
It didn’t have that magical feeling Coca-Cola says I should have been having at that time of year. (Of course, now I know that’s because it’s a fabrication…)
I’m not imbued with the festive cheer, so am I doing something wrong?
Well, one thing I’ve learnt is that no, you’re not doing it wrong.
Very few people are purely possessed by that Jimmy Stewart version of the Christmas spirit.
Which is fine, as is the doubt and the uncertainty implicit in this song:
Don’t you just love Christmas?
Everybody loves Christmas
Everybody loves Christmas
Everybody loves Christmas?
3. White Wine In the Sun — Tim Minchin
If there’s one line, in one song, that best captures my feelings towards Christmas now it’s the first lines from this wonderful tune:
I really like Christmas,
It’s sentimental I know, but I just really like it.
Avowed atheist Mr Minchin takes those internal conflicts I feel about the bastardisation of this religious holiday and addresses them.
He names the issues, tackles the hypocrisy and problems and acknowledges all of them.
Then he loops back to the real idea — spending time with your loved ones, relaxing, recharging and carving memories out of our time together.
Embarrassingly, when I think back to when I first heard this song, it was like getting permission to enjoy Christmas — even with all the baggage, issues, hypocrisies, problems, stresses, irritations, history.
Because if someone as determinedly anti-religious can see past all of that and focus on his loved ones, well, it helped me let myself off the hook a little.
I didn’t have to maintain the rage about Christmases past anymore — I could embrace what it means now.
Then it all comes back to the personal, and perhaps the reason this song has strengthened it’s grip on my heart since the birth of my son, by talking to:
my jet-lagged infant daughter,
you’ll be handed around the room
like a puppy at a primary school
you won’t understand.
My favourite version — from his concert at the Queen Elizabeth Hall in London — has the strings come up in this final verse and underscore these moments, the past, present and future, that he’s talking about.
It’s a Christmas song that tells several universal stories within a setting I can identify with — an oddly unusual combination.
4. How To Make Gravy — Paul Kelly
Do songwriters know when they’ve finished a stone-cold classic song?
When they put down their pen and guitar and sit back, do they do so with the satisfaction of capturing magic?
Or are they unsure if people will like it, if it’s any good?
I really hope Paul Kelly knew what he’d done when he finished this one.
Because this song IS Australian Christmas in my book.
I know, hardly a controversial position.
But it captures the logistics, the feeling and the climate of Australian Christmas better than any song I know.
This song reminds me of my Christmases — the roasts on the ‘100 degree’ days, the lengthy travel times this outrageously sized country asks of us, the unwilling separation from family and the dynamics at play around that big table, laden with food.
And he places gravy — gravy of all things! — at the centre of it all.
Because as any Christmas cook will tell you, making really, really special gravy is damned difficult. It’s also the ‘glue’ that brings the meal together — let that metaphor roll around for a while.
It is, of course, the minute details that make this song oddly specific to the characters, but universally relatable.
Poor Mary’s ex-boyfriend with too much cologne. Roger with the fightable personality. Lonely Rita.
Even the guitar, the casual, lackadaisical strumming with the occasional plucked vibrato string accentuating the melody describes the spirit Australians like to think they still have.
I’ve only talked about a fraction of the meaning this song has for me.
There’re elements that aren’t my story to tell, there’re features that don’t recall Christmas for me (we never pushed those tables back), but I adore this song.
Not only is this one my Christmas song, it’s a song I will listen to for the rest of my life.
(It’s also been covered by all and sundry. One that I love is Luca Brasi’s for Triple J’s Live at the Wireless, if only because it replaces ‘Junior Murray’ with ‘The Smithies’ and I do love when a classic is updated to a reference that I get!)
BONUS: Mrs Claus’ Kimono — The Drive-By Truckers.
Now fair warning, this one is dark.
This is, by far, the most disturbed Christmas song I’ve ever heard. It’s filled with, as they say, adult themes.
It’s also a darkly funny take on the Santa myth, told over two guitars duelling for the title of the dirtiest riff.
If you’re looking for a Christmas tune with a sinister elf conspiring with Rudolph to frame Santa Claus for cross-border drug trafficking — so the elf can have his secret lover Mrs Claus to himself, and ‘Rudy’ can protect his beloved female reindeer named Winona — then this is the song for you.
It also ends with perhaps the most ironic ‘Merry Christmas’ you’ll hear this year.
Merry Christmas!
These songs will be getting played heavily in my house between now and the 25th of December.
They’ll be playing as we open gifts with my son in the morning, as we wait for lunch at my in-laws and as we drive to dinner with my family.
Because they’ve helped me transform how I feel about Christmas and soundtrack the new memories we’ve written for ourselves.
I wish everybody reading this the most wonderful Christmas break, and a happy, safe New Year.
And thanks for following along as I unpack what music has meant in my life.
Finally, I hope you can take the time to relax.
And, maybe, drink some white wine in the sun.
PS: As you can tell, I wrote this close to Christmas last year. Still…some cracking songs!
