Some Thoughts on Christmas Music

by Matt Bryan

The speed of light in a vacuum, human nature and death; all universal constants, and it would also seem that, come mid-November every year without fail, that the playing of ‘Christmas music’ at every opportunity could be added to that list of certainties. No other period of the British calendar year is accompanied by its own soundtrack that changes little from year to year, unless you count the resurgence of ‘Three Lions’ every other year followed by a period of football-induced despair. So why is it that the sorrowful and miserable depths of winter have developed their own joyful ambiance through a uniquely seasonal genre of music?

Music has accompanied religious festivals for as long as they have been celebrated, but Christmas music as some of us have come to love came about with seasonal hymns as Christianity emerged in the late Roman Empire. Liturgical tradition continued until hymns made it out of the sanctity of churches and into the streets as early Christmas carols by the Late Middle Ages. With the vocal celebration of Christmas now in the hands of the public, carol-singing firmly became an English tradition and perhaps the best example of the early popularisation of Christmas music. Carols had been considered secular, until 1880 saw the first Nine Lessons and Carols service at Truro Cathedral which brought carols closer to the more traditional roots of Christmas and inspiring the now famous version at King’s College Chapel, Cambridge, broadcasted every Christmas Eve since 1928.

But for those brought up in the last half a century to the sounds of Radio One rather than Three or Four, it’s unlikely that the grandeur and perceived pretentiousness of hour long church service would have been the soundtrack to Christmas. What’s perhaps more closely associated with Christmas today is the selection of songs about Reindeer and Snowmen that every household has a CD of at the bottom of the moth-eaten cardboard box that comes out of the loft along with all the tinsel and fairy lights. All these ‘Christmas classics’ have two things in common; firstly, the repertoire hasn’t changed significantly since the 80s, and secondly, it’s hard to define what genre they belong to, other than ‘Christmas’.

The real phenomena is that Christmas music seems to be inherently tasteless; not that it is arguably bad and offensive, but that a large majority of people seem to like it regardless of their musical preference for the other eleven months of the year. Someone who lives on a steady diet of house music from artists that even their own mothers haven't heard of would never be seen dead listening to Bublé or Mariah Carey from January through to November, nor would an self-styled opera aficionado or metal-head, yet they can’t get enough of it for one month a year. Christmas appears to have the power to heal all musical divides.

Another of the genre’s magical qualities is its ability to not age. Of the top ranked Christmas songs, only 17% were written in the last half a century, meaning that some 83% of the tracks on that CD that everyone has are from before the 1970s. At no other point in the year do swathes of people listen to pre-war music or the variety of songs performed on Eurovision between in the 60s and 70s, yet come Christmas it sees a massive revival. Perhaps our rose-tinted view of this time of year is fuelled by a feeling of nostalgia - one for a bygone era we only see in marketing and Christmas movies. 

However, the true magic of Christmas music is one which immortalises those who perform it’s ritual. Ask one hundred people to name another song by Wizzard and the resulting number will be close enough to zero to be insignificant. Without ‘Merry Christmas Everybody’, it’s safe to say that Slade would’ve faded into relative obscurity as another mediocre glam rock product of the 70s, but give them a Christmas number one and their name will ascended to household status. ‘Fairytale of New York’ is the most played Christmas song in the UK, yet it is disputably awful; you need liner notes to comprehend what Shane MacGowan passes as singing, the piano part clashes with an orchestral string section and then with an accordion and tin whistle in the space of thirty painful seconds and then the lyrics are a depressing tale of a broken relationship and wasted life to top it all off. But it has a certain charm about it that transcends all its flaws and puts in on the radio year after year.

My theory is that, if you want to make a lot of money and receive global admiration, then write Christmas music. Andy Warhol was almost right when he prophesied that ‘everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes’, but forgot to add ‘that he who has a Christmas hit shall be famous for fifteen minutes every year, and their name shall liveth for ever more’. Some take this philosophy to heart by making Christmas music their full time occupation, and the prospect is attractive - work one month a year and get paid handsomely.

You can’t discuss the genre of Christmas music without uttering the name of its most famous son: Michael Bublé. If it had its own school, he would be the head, and just like the bee and the flower, the two are symbiotic. There’s much that can be said about Bublé, but I’ll be frank; he is a relic. Bublé is a second-rate Frank Sinatra born sixty years too late, he’s the man that jazz musicians blame for watering down the genre, and I felt compelled to listen to some of his music as research and it physically hurt. You can make all the jokes you want about him ‘defrosting in time for Christmas’, but the man has evolved further than most musicians. Bublé has his niche and he capitalises on it year after year. His career hasn’t slowed down in almost two decades and he, not the boy chorister at King’s, is the herald of Christmas for most. He embodies the Holy Christmas Music Trinity of tastelessness, timelessness and public consciousness and will continue to do so until the end of time.

Whether you love it or hate it, Christmas music has been with us in many forms for many centuries, and it looks like it will be for the foreseeable future. As a unique art form, it’s hard to determine what will be popular in a decade’s time, but until then, please play it responsibly.