I couldn’t let the holiday season pass us by without sharing with you my new favoritest Christmas song: “A Quick One (Pete Townsend’s Christmas)” by Wild Billy Childish and the Musicians of the British Empire.
I look forward to this song being using in Wes Anderson’s upcoming film, The Royal Tennenbaums 2: The New Batch.
Kudos to you, sir.
A lot of us get stressed out during the holidays, especially when we’re shopping for our families. That stress causes us to do non-Christmas-y things like act rude or discourteous to complete strangers while at the store. Or worse.
You decided that you would maintain the holiday spirit the only way you know how: by going to Toys R Us high as a kite. That takes no small amount of courage. No, wait, courage isn’t the word I’m looking for. What is it? Oh yes: immaturity. Still, bravo!
I also applaud you for making sure no one could mistake you for a sober person. Nope, when you packed that bowl before leaving the house, you wanted strangers to spot your glazed, heavy-lidded Stoner Stare from 50 yards away. You also, apparently, wanted the air around you to have the acrid stench of Willie Nelson’s rec room carpet.
I should probably congratulate you just for remembering that it’s Christmas. You look like the kind of guy who forgets to to do things because they’re just too “heavy”. Like showing up for work on time, or paying the rent.
And I don’t envy what you’ll tell your kids when they open their gifts and they ask you about that funny smell. Will say that reek is Santa’s Magic Christmas Dust? Or will you go smoke up again because you can’t handle your children giving you a big plastic hassle?
Happy Holidays, Stoned Man. I hope Santa Claus brings you that 12-foot dragon-covered bong you want. And if you’re really lucky, maybe he’ll leave behind some handy stocking stuffers. Like dignity, and self-respect.
Three years ago, I used this space to rail against “The Little Drummer Boy.” It still ranks as my all-time most hated Christmas song, because it is an enormous steaming log of bullshit drenched in sticky-sweet sentimental syrup. It’s a holiday song for the same kind of people who believe in angels: they want something quasi-religious that doesn’t ask you to actually believe in anything (except kindly, poor drum-playing shepherds).
Two years ago, I took “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” to task for being misguided, self-congratulatory, and ultimately mean spirited. “Thank god it’s them instead of you”?! Go fuck yourselves, British do-gooders.
Last year, I was too busy changing diapers to get too upset about Xmas music. This year, I don’t have any specific song to lambaste (although if you’re in that kinda mood, I recommend Patton Oswalt’s takedown of “Christmas Shoes”). [New site update 12.21.08: There used to be a video of this on YouTube, but it has sadly passed into the Intertubes Graveyard.] But there is a genre of Christmas songs I despise, one whose ranks have been swelling in recent years. If I could somehow give these songs to life, I would, just so I could give each of them a debilitating case of food poisoning.
I’m talking about the rocking and/or soulful Christmas song. I suppose there is no reason why a Christmas song can’t rock or have soul, although scientists have yet to confirm his hypothesis.
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