Susie Rushton: All we want for Christmas .... are the same old clapped-out old hits
BRACE your ears: we are now entering the peak of the season that musical taste forgot. For the next fortnight, you and I will have to endure more glam-rock jingling, more mawkish Fifties crooning, and more kiddies singing carols, than we strictly deserve.
Step into any sandwich bar, outlet of Gap, pub or even bookshop (sad, but true), and one is followed by the eternal playlist of Bing, Wizzard, John & Yoko and Slade. Why does it have to be like this? Because, secretly, that's what we really enjoy.
There's no such thing as a cool Christmas pop song, the closest contender being perhaps the New Wavey "Christmas Wrapping" by The Waitresses, simply because it sounds so deadpan and don't-care in an early-80s kind of way. But even in a genre where the tinkly sound of sleighbells and lyrics about "decking the tree" are mandatory, there is bad and there is good. The former, we all know; this year, it is summed up by Michael Bublé's album of croony covers, the imaginatively entitled Christmas.