Finnginn's Festive Countdown: Number 3

In the minimal research that I conduct to lend this blog an air of credibility, I read that this song only reached number 40 in the UK charts. It has only become familiar because it is used as filler on so many Xmas Hits records, CDs and… er… festive countdowns.

Chris de Burgh may be best remembered for his saccharine ballads about rubbing cheeks with scarlet clad ladies, but we’re here to celebrate the strand of bonkers religiosity hiding in that falsetto croon. Spanish Train - in which the Devil outwits God by cheating at games of poker and chess over which they have wagered the souls of the dead - was a favourite of mine as a child. But this is a festive countdown so today’s song can only be:

Number 3: A Spaceman Came Travelling by Chris de Burgh

In my view, A Spaceman Came Travelling is a song in three parts:

Part One is the set-up: a grade one reimagining of the Nativity story in which the star that guides shepherd folk and wise men to Bethlehem is not a star at all but an alien spacecraft bearing a message for mankind to hear. This is brilliantly Christmassy - if there’s one Christmas song element that we are fans of here at the Finnginn blog, it’s reimaginings of the Nativity story. We love it when songwriters are like: The Greatest Story Ever Told? Nah, it would be better if it went like this...

Part Two is a bit of a letdown as the spaceman reveals that his message is:

“...blah blah blah blah, la-la, blah blah blah blah…” 

Lyrically, it’s like Chris thought, ‘I’ll write that bit later’ and then never did.

But the song is redeemed in Part Three when the stranger/spaceman character departs leaving only the cryptic hint that:

“...when 2000 years of your time has gone by,

 this song will begin once again…” 

That’s right! The twist is that you’re not listening to a Chris de Burgh festive pop song at all - you are actually hearing the interstellar music of the angel-being that blessed the birth of Jesus! 

It’s this incredible hubris that earns A Spaceman Came Travelling a prominent place in my Christmas playlist.

Finnginn's Festive Countdown: Number 4

I’m slightly behind schedule on these. Looks like I’ve got to publish one on most of the days left between now and Xmas otherwise I will be breaking my own rule that Xmas music should only be listened to during Advent and on Xmas day itself.

The Kinks have long been a favourite band of mine. They had a string of hit singles in the 1960s: starting with two - You Really Got Me and All Day and All of the Night - that kind of invented the chord-heavy riff metal sound before completely abandoning it in pursuit of a character-led almost theatrical style of music.

Many of the 1970s Kinks albums are overly-long single-concept albums that play out like stage plays. They took to touring with a full brass section and their stage shows featured actors and multiple costume changes. Record sales dwindled until they reinvented themselves as a stadium act in the 1980s, drawing on their huge back catalogue to play just the hits to packed crowds.

At the peak of their late 1970s unpopularity. They released a Christmas song:

Number 4: Father Christmas by the Kinks

The christmassy glockenspiel intro gives way to a trademark Dave Davies guitar peel. Lead singer Ray Davies sings the song from the perspective of a mall santa who tells the story of a time he was mugged by a gang of children who taunt him with the central refrain:

“Father Christmas, give us some money

Don't mess around with those silly toys

We'll beat you up if you don't hand it over

We want your bread so don't make us annoyed.

Give all the toys to the little rich boys!”

In 1977, pipe bands not glockenspiels were the Christmas music theme du jour, so Paul McCartney’s ode to his estate in the Scottish lowlands, Mull of Kintyre got the number one spot. This Kinks song failed to chart. 

What are your favourite forgotten Christmas anthems? Let me know in the comments below or on Facebook.

Finnginn's Festive Countdown: Number 5

Christina Aguilera and I are about the same age (she’s actually like six weeks older than me). Fascinatingly, we both also have a four octave vocal range… only kidding… in reality, the similarities end at the age thing. 

Despite our similar ages, our paths hadn’t crossed. She never invites me to her birthday parties - so I don’t invite her to my traditional birthday curry night at Spice Paradise (meeting at the King’s Head at 7 for food at 8 if you’re free, Christina) either. Maybe because Christina’s birthday is so close to Christmas is the reason that she hates Christmas so much?

My evidence for Christina Aguilera’s hatred of Christmas is the worst Christmas album I’ve suffered through in all my research for this festive countdown. My Kind of Christmas was released in 2000. An album so keen to put that four octave vocal range to the test that the producers decided to make every syllable 17 notes long. Even a duet with Dr John can’t save it.

My Kind of Christmas’ only redeeming feature is a bizarre interlude - Xtina's Xmas - that sounds like it was produced by a Sixth Former who, whilst doing work experience at a studio had stumbled across the record company executive’s stash of Colombian talcum powder and then been let loose at the mixing desk.

Maybe My Kind of Christmas is your kind of Christmas. But after listening to that, I needed a good blast of a track that just weeps Christmas spirit from its pores...

Number 5: Gaudete by Steeleye Span

In the house I grew up in, Steeleye Span used to play whilst the children opened their stockings on Christmas morning. But if ever a song was recorded to be played during the lighting and presentation of the Christmas Pudding, surely this is it?

(For my international readers: the traditional British Christmas Pudding is made of dried fruit, nuts, spices and kidney fat soaked in brandy for four weeks, then dressed with a sprig of holly, doused in more brandy and set on fire.)

Gaudete! Gaudete! Christus est natus!

Ex Maria virgine! Gaudete!

[Rejoice all! Rejoice all! Christ is born!

Outside of the virgin Mary! Rejoice all!] 

(trans. author’s own)

Feel free to share with me your favourite latin Christmas songs. Drop them in the comments here or on Facebook.

Finnginn's Festive Countdown: Number 6

My annual YouTube Music listening statistics came through and, once again, I am in the top 2% of Bob Dylan listeners globally - in 2022, I listened to 371 minutes of Bob Dylan. If that puts me in the top 2%, y’all aren’t listening to enough Dylan.

But even we super-Dylan listeners find our fingers hovering over the ‘skip song’ button when his rasping ineffectual rendition of Do You Hear What I Hear? from 2009’s Christmas in the Heart starts playing.

Do You Hear What I Hear? has been covered many times since it was written by two musicians (Noël Regney and Gloria Shayne) during October 1962. You heard me correctly - Regney and Shayne came up with their choral masterpiece during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Knowing that they thought the world was ending, makes the song’s central message all the more poignant.

Plot-wise not much is going on in Do You Hear What I Hear? Essentially, various protagonists (Night Wind, Little Lamb, Shepherd Boy, Mighty King) share various aspects of the Nativity story until the Mighty King proclaims peace and goodwill to the people everywhere. 

This is in stark contrast to the actual Nativity story, in which you will recall that the Mighty King on hearing the news of Christ’s birth orders the slaughter of all boys under 2 years of age in the entire kingdom. (Matt 2:16)

I’ve listened to this song a lot this week. And I can tell you that it turns out that Dylan’s cover is far from the worst. That honour goes to the Jessie J and Mary J Blige version some mixes of which last a full 5 and a half minutes! They linger so long on presenting the Christ-child with silver and gold that I started to doubt Jessie J’s earlier protestations that it was not about the money money money and the ba-bling ba-bling. 

William Becket has a version that I first encoutered on an album called Punk goes Christmas that manages to achieve a sound that is neither punky nor Christmassy.

So what am I looking for in my search for the perfect rendition of Do You Hear What I Hear? The song benefits from being tight. The original recording by the Harry Simeone Chorale is magical and only 3 minutes long. Mahalia Jackson belts it out in just 2 minutes 20, but she chose a musical rather than vocal echo on the Do You Hear What I Hear? bits so she narrowly misses out to:

Number 6: Do You Hear What I Hear? by Andy Williams

From the prominent military snare drum to the sustained final note, Andy’s version has everything that we’re looking for. And is supported by a female choir doing the echoey bits and a male voice choir adding some baritone harmonies. Gradually, extra elements (including some Christmassy sounding tubular bells, and an orchestra and brass section) are introduced with the whole never becoming too bloated.

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy,

“Do you hear what I hear?

(Do you hear what I hear?)”

Think you hate this song? There's a version for you out there somewhere. Share your favourites in the comments below or on Facebook. But forgive me if I listen to them next Xmas - I've kind of done this one to death this week in researching this blog!

Finnginn's Festive Countdown: Number 7

Calypso music is unashamedly joyful music - so it’s a shoo-in for adding some sunshine to your Xmas playlist. And luckily Calypsonians love Xmas so there’s albums of the stuff out there to choose from. 

Calypso music is also unashamedly subversive music - stemming from the musical tradition of enslaved Africans in the Caribbean using call and response work songs to mock their slavemasters. 

Number 7: Father Christmas by Lord Kitchener

Lord Kitchener is referred to by Wikipedia as Lord Kitchener (calypsonian) to make sure nobody accidentally confuses the grandmaster of calypso for the moustachioed face staring out of the “Your Country Needs You!” First World War recruitment poster.

Be sure to check out his back catalogue. Lord Kitchener knows all the tricks in the calypso lyric handbook - sociopolitical commentary, humour, double-entendre, the experience of being black in a racist world - all set to beautiful calypso music which is a uniquely Trinidadian fusion of African beats and Latin-American rhythms. 

According to his obituary in the Guardian he arrived in England on the Empire Windrush in 1948 and stayed here for 14 years - opening a nightclub in Manchester. 

“Last night you said to me what I want for Christmas?

Darling, it’s nice to see you are so generous.

Well, boy, take it from me your offer is welcome:

Bring the wine, the whisky and the rum!”

Finnginn's Festive Countdown: Number 8

Confession time: I love Xmas music. I’m not ashamed to say that the first 7” single I ever owned was Cliff Richard’s Mistletoe and Wine and that at least 50% of the theme of that chorus-line plays an important part in my Xmas celebrations to this day. 

I have two ideas that I think would improve the whole Xmas music experience for everyone.

1. Xmas music should only be played during Advent and on Xmas Day itself.
2. We should all deviate from the standard playlist a bit more - let’s hear more Xmas deep cuts.

For those who love Xmas music as much as me, and for all the grinches who wish they could avoid stepping into last Christmas everyday, I present Finnginn’s Festive Countdown.

Number 8: It’s Always Christmas Time for Visa by The Austin Lounge Lizards. 

There can be few genres more divisive than comedy gospel bluegrass. Let’s just say it’s not for everyone. 

I first heard the Austin lounge Lizards when I was working as a campboy in the United States in the late 90s. A Texan guitar slinger called Uh…Clem used to sing a cover of their song Monkey on My Back (And It Looks Like You) round the campfire at the Cotopaxi Smokehouse. When I returned to England, he gave me as a parting gift a cassette tape that had their album Employee of the Month on one side and a live album by the Asylum Street Spankers on the other.   

In the years since, I have tracked down some other records of theirs. Not much of their back catalogue has made it to the digital era. Only about half of their 10 or so albums are on YouTube Music.

Luckily one of them includes this catchy seasonal reminder that the credit card companies are out to exploit you…

Altogether now:

It’s always Christmas time for Visa!

Mastercard gets presents every day!

Our interest rate just went

To 29 per cent

Even though we’ve never failed to pay.

I'm always looking to expand my Christmas playlist, please share your favourites in the comments below or on Facebook.

Of Time and CBeebies

Jean Paul Sartre opened La Nausée with the observation that 3 o'clock in the afternoon is too late or too early for anything that you want to do. I've not got a problem with 3pm. And I totally disagree that you can't do anything at 3pm. I can think of lots of things to do in Norwich at 3pm, and Norwich isn't exactly Paris.

Maybe Sartre's mates all had proper jobs and weren't available to head down to the Left Bank for a quick café noir and a natter about existentialism in the middle of the afternoon? But surely he could just pop to the library and find an autodidact to sneer at?

Now consider 4.30am, that is a time that is definitely either too late or too early for anything that you might want to do. Let me tell you. And I have become recently well-acquainted with that hour due to the clocks being regulated by some kind of governmental diktat and my younger son's body clock being regulated by his desire to spoon in a bowl of Weetabix drowned in blue top as soon as his tummy rumbles.

The collective insanity that causes us all to reverse the minute-hands of our clocks a full rotation at the end of October has always bothered me. I have an early memory of asking my Nana to explain how the Sun knew to rise at a different time.

Baked a lovely Cornish pasty, my Nana, and was also ready to explain the basics of celestial mechanics when called upon. It's hard work being a Nana.

Carers of young children will already be aware that before CBeebies proper starts it's colourful assault on the senses, you get half an hour or so of Little Daydreams - lots of slow motion bubble blowing and jumping in puddles - all narrated by 2019 Best Actress Oscar winner Olivia Colman. But even the makers of Little Daydreams know that 4:30am is too early for a little auditory tactile synaesthesia - so they schedule that to start at 5:30am.

If he's allowed to choose what to watch while I aimlessly scroll through Twitter to see which government ministers are likely to resign in the coming parliamentary session, Ginger will inevitably opt for something from  the 'blocks' Universe. These are 5 minute cartoons about personifications of abstract concepts that sing and dance. 

So far the BBC has adapted the following philosophical concepts for the small screen:

• phonemes ("alphablocks")
• integers ("numberblocks")
• qualia ("colourblocks")

I know what you're thinking - there's a clear gap in the market there for generative syntax ("grammarblocks"?)! But don't worry, I have written to the commissioning editor of CBeebies to suggest this for the next series. I've even written some suggested lyrics for the theme song:

Grammarblocks! Grammarblocks!

Combine syntactically!

Grammarblocks! Grammarblocks!

They make syntactic trees!

'S' is comprised (minimally)

Of one 'NP' and one 'VP'.

Modifiers, Adverbials

And don't forget Recursive Rules

For linguistic infinity!

Grammarblocks! Grammarblocks! (et cetera)

I've yet to hear back. Anyhow it's time for a nap before the 3pm school run - Did I mention that I've been awake since 4:30?

Clocks Photo credit: Lucian Alexe on Unsplash

Young Finnginn with Nana photo credit: my mum?