“Ugh. I was in my favourite cappucino bar, reading Dostoevsky and enjoying my oatmilk latte, when it happened. Last Christmas came on the radio. It’s not even December yet, and I’m out.”
Is there any dullard greater than people who play Whamageddon? I mean, probably there are. But the combination of pretentiousness, musical snobbery, desperation to be seen as cool and sheer dullness feels like an unbeatable combo at this time of year. Think of Ebeneezer Scrooge as a tiresome, priggish sixth former and you are maybe half way there.
For the (lucky) uninitiated, Whamageddon is an annual borefest in which people compete to see who can last the longest in the festive season without hearing Last Christmas by Wham! Why, you might ask – isn’t it a perfect slice of Christmas pop and actually one of the best tunes in that genre? But that would be to misunderstand (again, perhaps fortunately) a whole group of middle-aged people who are still straining every sinew to be perceived as ‘cool’, even as the term itself is derided as a tad ‘Fonz from Happy Days’.
It’s not just Wham! Every year, the bores come out in force to tell us how much they hate Christmas pop songs. I mean, fine, nobody has to like everything. But a bit like the posturing from non-football fans during World Cups, there is a bizarre desire to shout from the roof tops about hating Christmas music. Whether it’s sardonic social media posts, rolling eyes in pubs or taking part in the try-hard fest that is Whamageddon, the naysayers are again way more vocal than they need to beColours to the mast, I love Christmas. The spirit and kindness of the festive season may feel fake, but it’s still nice to wallow in. And Christmas songs are basically the soundtrack: it’s no surprise that Christmas pop songs really became a thing in the Slade/Wizzard era after years of us being stuck with White Christmas. Christmas is basically glam rock: fun, excessive and enjoyable. And there’s something a bit wrong with people who don’t like glam rock. Something either downright miserable or a bit up themselves.
Of course, great Christmas tunes are not confined to the 70s – the 80s produced the afore-mentioned Wham! zinger, Band Aid and the daddy of them all, Fairytale Of New York. (Sad to think that the inimitable Shane McGowan really won’t see another one.) And there’s been some crackers since, even if the requirement for most British chart acts to churn out a Christmas song seems to have sadly disappeared.
Anyway, whether you worked in a shop that played Christmas tunes round the clock, whether you don’t like Noddy’s voice or whether you’ve never really outgrown being a pretentious undergraduate, if you don’t like Christmas music, that’s your loss. You’re not operating on some higher plane, even if you’re trying quite hard to. When the snowman brings the snow and puts a great big smile on somebody’s face, you’re the killjoy we’re all hoping to avoid.
Merry Christmas, everyone.
Rory writes 