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Liner Notes

A weekly column by Tampa Tribune pop music critic Curtis Ross

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By CURTIS ROSS | The Tampa Tribune

Published: December 11, 2008

Updated:

As far as I'm concerned, Christmas music begins with The Beach Boys' "Little Saint Nick" and ends with Darlene Love's "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)." The rest should be locked in the attic with the aluminum tree and those Spencer's novelties I forgot to re-gift.

Holiday music is right up there with office Christmas parties and Secret Santa ("A scented candle? For me?!") on the cringe-inducement scale.

If you can hear "The Twelve Days of Christmas" without getting the taste of stale gingerbread in your mouth and having your jaws involuntarily clinch into a forced smile, you have a stronger will than I.

There's a reason that, despite the flood of new Christmas albums released every year, the same old standards end up on repeat play on radio and supermarket P.A. systems. It's because all - or close enough to all to call it all - new Christmas albums suck.

Check one out. The singer's wearing a wool sweater on the cover; you can't miss it. It will have 12 songs you don't like in the first place, performed with a maximum of sentimental schmaltz and sleigh bells.

God, I hate sleigh bells.

As with any absolutes, there are exceptions. "A Christmas Gift for You From Phil Spector" is essential, as is Rhino's "Hipster's Holiday," a compilation of swinging jazz and R&B.

But these albums - as well as stray tracks by Bruce Springsteen, The Drifters and Keith Richards - are just plain good. You could play them any time of the year, although people probably would look at you funny.

It's still probably not enough to fill 1G on your iPod.

Let's declare 2009 a new Christmas-music free zone. Discourage artists from recording new holiday albums. Petition labels not to release them.

My Christmas spirit depends on it.

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