Singing the same old song at Christmas

In or around November all over the western world and in the majority of public places, constructed to allow us to practice consumer culture in celebration of the birth of Christ, we started to have Christmas songs pumped over the sound systems. The combination of snatched lines and bars, combined with the near endless repeating of the same songs on television and radio, has led me to sometimes find the same numbers rolling around my head at unwanted moments.

 

Certain scientists study songs that stick in the head and return, uninvited, to take up residency from time to time. They call them ‘earworms’. An ‘earworm’ is described by the BBC as coming “from a translation of the German word ‘ohrwurm’. It refers to the experience of having a tune or a part of a tune stuck in your head.

Often a person experiencing an earworm has no idea why a tune has popped into their head and has little control over how long it continues”. The Beeb goes on to say, “Earworms are a really common phenomenon. A recent poll suggested over 90% of the population experience them at least once a week.”

The phenomenon of the Christmas song is slightly different, however. The limited number of Christmas songs that constitute the ‘classics’ echo through our minds not because they are in themselves great works of art but because they represent a time and place and shared experience. It is a manufactured dream from another time. They speak of things of which people expect to constitute the ‘real Christmas’ but for many people are far from reality.

This image of Christmas as a time of plenty, excess and general exuberance is intimately bound up in the juxtaposition put forward in the original Band Aid single. In that song, we are told of the horror being endured by those in Africa who are not like us with our plenty at Christmas. They have nothing. Not only do they have nothing, the song tells us that while we are “having fun, There’s a world outside your window and it’s a world of dread and fear, Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears”.

Amazing how life managed to evolve in Africa in the original position when there is no water other than the tears of humans. On top of the lack of water, the superstars of 1984 tell us that “the Christmas bells that are ringing are the clanging chimes of doom.” Poor Africa, we are encouraged to think. They can’t listen to amazing pop stars singing like we can on our ultra hip record players. All they can hear is the clanging bells of doom, whatever they are.

Bono was on hand in 1984 with, even then, his usual good advice.  “Well, tonight thank God it’s them instead of you.” The young Irish pop star trying desperately to come to grips with his Catholic guilt urged us all to thank the man in the sky that it was the Africans and not us who were suffering this terrible reality and not us in the privileged world of Christmas treats, feasting and snow.

My original intention when researching this column was to write about the fact that the music industry and society generally, has changed so much in the past decade that there is unlikely to be another mass delivery of Christmas songs which come to be known as ‘classics’ in the coming years. I felt that people are generally now far more aware that the music industry is a business like any other, and run accordingly, would make the release of Christmas songs that will seep into the cultural consciousness very unlikely.

In my research however, I came upon the fact that Band Aid had re-released the single 20 years on, in 2004. I had forgotten that this had happened and quite enjoyed watching the research material.

The same heady mix of careerism and genuine concern and conviction delivered a repeat performance that sold in almost equal number and benefited the Darfur region of Sudan. The fact that the Darfur region of Sudan continues to represent a severe, prolonged and intensely intractable conflict seems beside the point. Why worry about such a detail? Bono came back and sang the same line again, still thanking his god he wasn’t African.

The song was popular. It was an institution to the pop stars of the time – they felt they should re-record it and release it to do their bit. They were aware that to be part of the small stable of Christmas ‘classics’ is a rare thing, especially in the cutthroat world of music promotion, so they did their best. The fact that their efforts, while laudable in a way, represent a strange icon to the misrepresentation of the African continent and people is not something that should really surprise us. “The road to hell, etc…”

The Band Aid single is not alone in presenting an unrealistic picture at this time of the year. In a way, any one song or sentiment that claims to be universal would be doomed to failure from the very beginning and yet the consensus is that we will all go along with the chaos, effort and consequences of Christmas. As much as it is common to hear people gripe about the season, they are usually doing it while engaging in some of the traditions, probably to keep someone they love happy. Parents who criticise Santa continue the tradition with their own children and those who claim to be finished with the idea of the holiday make a grudging effort because they love their parents, friends, children or partners.

Whether we like it or not, Christmas is a time when people make memories, whether we agree or not that that is the case. If they correspond with the idealised memories, peddled by consumer culture and reinforced by songs, then good luck to them. But if they don’t, then at least I hope the memories from this year’s outing were good in some way. If they weren’t, at least you can comfort yourself in the knowledge that you’re not in Africa because “Underneath that burning sun; Do they know it’s Christmastime at all?”