Advent song for December 23, with love to Glasgow

For the second Christmas in a row, the best city in the world has been blindsided by an incomprehensible event. Love to Glasgow and everyone who loves it and its amazing people. The original lyrics to this song included the lines “Have yourself a merry little Christmas/It may be your last/Next year we may all be living in the past” but the slightly more hopeful version made it into Meet Me In St Louis, for which we can all be grateful. This is the last of the sad songs, but it’s super-sad and I give you permission to have a big old sob along to it. Tomorrow we cheer up again; until then we’ll have to muddle through somehow.

Advent song for December 21: Ringing The Bells For Jim

Today’s song is late, which is good because it may be the most tragic one yet, and I don’t want to ruin anyone’s Sunday. This song is the one I couldn’t post on Friday, because it was Faye’s birthday and she has a brother called Jim, and I didn’t want to be responsible for a drop in team productivity by sending her home in tears. Maybe listen to this one with nobody else around.

Advent song for December 19: Another Christmas

I had a different song scheduled for today, but it’s my colleague’s birthday and for reasons which will become apparent early next week if I tell you that her brother is called Jim, I decided I needed a last-minute replacement, which fortunately the same colleague provided by sending me a link to this, which I’ve never heard before and like a lot. So thank you Faye, and happy birthday to you.

Offspring of a virgin’s wum

As you know, I only rant here when it’s important. So you’ll understand how strongly I feel about this desecration of a song that every single one of us loves, whether we were initiated by Cohen, Buckley or Burke or someone else. It’s not that she sounds as though she has treacle in the back of her throat (although she does), it’s that she has enough disrespect for the song to sing:

But you don’t really care for music, dooooooo yooooooo

Rather than the actual lyric which is:

But you don’t really care for music, dooo yaaaaaaa

And then she sings “Hallelujah” in its normal pronunciation (rather than “halleluuuuuuujuuuuu”), so that the whole rhyme and the rhythm disappears, along with any sort of rawness or sadness or human emotion. I don’t and always won’t try to sound like an expert but good heavens, if you can’t sing it like you mean it, don’t sing it.

Advent song for December 16: Blue Christmas

Even Elvis doesn’t really think this is a sad song, as you can see in this live recording from his 1968 Comeback Special. My favourite thing about this video is the fact that the fans are all about eight inches from the King, and the stage looks like one somebody has jerryrigged for a school concert. That’s two favourite things, isn’t it? You see, I have a mince pie and a cup of tea so I’m incapable of bringing you the requisite amount of sadness. Don’t worry: as you know, there’s plenty to come.