Christmas Crap.

I just watched one of those ‘40 All Time Greatest Christmas Music Videos’ programmes on the TV, only because I felt uncharacteristically desirous of watching the TV for a change and that was the least of the evils on offer. So let’s see, what did we get?

1) Smart young things in a ski lodge giving one another Meaningful Looks across the dinner table, and then going out in the snow to throw snowballs.

2) A pretty young thing o’er brimming with ego, demonstrating my maxim that ‘gorgeous women are hardly ever beautiful.’ She was frolicking in the snow with a Santa and a dog wearing plastic antlers.

3) Two people sitting by a fire (which was supposed to be a log, but was clearly a load of gas jets) singing about snow.

4) Several bands on stage miming badly while the party poppers whizzed and meagre flurries of fake snow floated around listlessly.

5) A little boy holding a snowman’s hand and flying over lots of cartoon snow. (I hate boy sopranos, you know; I really do. I have nothing against the boys, of course; they can’t help having girlie voices until they reach puberty, but I wish they wouldn’t advertise the fact with such apparent lack of concern. Still, at least this one wasn’t singing hymns or Christmas Carols. That’s when they become really objectionable.)

Are we getting the SS message here? Schmaltz and Snow. Pathetic.

Nevertheless, I watched it to the end, possessed of an unshakeable belief that the only Christmas video worth watching would come in at number 1. It did. Fairytale in New York by The Pogues and Kirsty McColl is the only one worth watching because it’s creatively in a different league from the rest. It deals with real, earthy emotions, it contains music that stands on its own feet without necessarily needing any reference to Christmas, everything about the video has genuine artistic class, and there’s no snow anywhere. And it reminds me of a special person who, as far as I know, still lives in New York, and who once made me feel alive when I thought that somebody must have thrown away the key to the crypt.

Addendum

OK, I’m going to allow one more in. Paul McCartney’s Frog Song can have an honourable mention, but only because there’s no snow and Rupert Bear’s in it.