Anatomy of The Christmas Shoes, Revisited (Yet Again)

This is the sixth Christmas season for Greenlee Gazette, amazing as that seems to me. And though this year I haven't heard it yet, every other year, I couldn't escape the worst Christmas song in history.  It isn't possible to inflict enough derision upon the now perennial The Christmas Shoes. It's abysmal. It's horrific. It deserves far more crap flung at it than has ever been flung. So here is my effort, from the early days of the blog, to put this lame-ass song in its place. This post has appeared on the blog each of the last five years. This year, I present it again, with a few additions and changes. . .




As you head into your holidays, you are undoubtedly going to be assaulted by Christmas carols somewhere. And if you're like me, you will unwittingly overhear The Christmas Shoes by NewSong, one of the worst songs of all time.

I was inspired to write my own dissection of the song after reading "The Annotated Christmas Shoes," on the (sadly now gone) Diary of a Blood Ray (aka The B Pryde Machine) blog years ago. The first time I heard the song, my reaction was much the same as Blood Ray's. I wasn’t moved to tears. I didn’t find the song precious or heartwarming. The song actually kind of pissed me off.

The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that this song was brainstormed (if you can call it that) to be as manipulative of people’s emotions as possible. I can envisioned the writers sitting down to write a sappy Christmas song, trying to pluck the heartstrings until they frayed. Now that the season is upon us, this hideous song has already started to play. And play. And play. And I just can't take it.

So, taking a page from Blood Ray (whose post I miss, and so wish I had saved), here is my own version, which I call "Anatomy of The Christmas Shoes." Because I'm dissecting this hideous beast. Put on your glasses, I'm shrinking the font because of length.

Image from Blood Ray's original post.

The Christmas Shoes by NewSong

It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line
OK, It sets the scene, and it’s not so bad yet. It does manage to telegraph what’s coming though.

Tryin' to buy that last gift or two, not really in the Christmas mood
Still setting the scene, but there’s the country-fried tryin’ as though "trying" wouldn’t be heartwarming enough.

Standing right in front of me was a little boy waiting anxiously Here’s where my cynic antennae start going up. I’m thinking the writers picked a boy, because a girl would just naturally do something nice for her mom. So, yeah, let’s make it a boy, to make it more poignant.

Anatomy of The Christmas Shoes, Revisited (Yet Again)

This is the fifth Christmas season for Greenlee Gazette, amazing as that seems to me. And as with every other, this year, I couldn't escape the worst Christmas song in hstory.  It isn't possible to inflict enough derision upon the now perennial The Christmas Shoes. It's abysmal. It's horriffic. It deserves far more crap flung at it than has ever been flung thus far. So here is my effort, from the early days of the blog, to put this lame-ass song in its place. This post has appeared on the blog each of the last four years. This year, I present it again, with a few additions and changes.




As you head into your holidays, you are undoubtedly going to be assaulted by Christmas carols somewhere. And if you're like me, you will unwittingly overhear The Christmas Shoes by NewSong, one of the worst songs of all time.

I’ve been wanting to write my own version of "The Annotated Christmas Shoes," since I read the original on the (sadly now gone) Diary of a Blood Ray (aka The B Pryde Machine) years ago. The first time I heard the song, my reaction was much the same as his. I wasn’t moved to tears. I didn’t find the song precious or heartwarming. The song actually kind of pissed me off.

The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that this song was brainstormed (if you can call it that) to be as manipulative of people’s emotions as possible. I can envision the writers sitting down to write a sappy Christmas song, trying to pluck the heartstrings until they frayed. Now that the season is upon us, this hideous song has already started to play. And play. And play. And I just can't take it.

So, taking a page from Blood Ray (whose post I miss, and so wish I had saved), here is my own version, which I call "Anatomy of The Christmas Shoes." Because I'm dissecting this hideous beast. Put on your glasses, I'm shrinking the font because of length.

The Christmas Shoes by NewSong
It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line OK, It sets the scene, and it’s not so bad yet. It does manage to telegraph what’s coming though.

Tryin' to buy that last gift or two, not really in the Christmas mood Still setting the scene, and there’s the country-fried tryin’ as though "trying" wouldn’t be heartwarming enough.


Standing right in front of me was a little boy waiting anxiously Here’s where my cynic antennae start going up. I’m thinking the writers picked a boy, because a girl would just naturally do something nice for her mom. So, yeah, let’s make it a boy, to make it more poignant.

Pacing 'round like little boys do Filler. You can’t really pace in a line, and little boys don’t do it more than anyone else, do they?

And in his hands he held a pair of shoes Yes, the titular shoes. Why shoes? I’ll tell you why shoes. Because if the writers made it a hat, bra, panties, dress, or almost any other item of clothing a woman might wear, he’d seem gay. Believe it.

His clothes were worn and old, he was dirty from head to toe The scene was set, but this goes wayyy over the edge. Apparently, this is to show that the boy is poor. What it does for me is tell me that his parents aren’t taking care of him. He’s wandered away from home, unsupervised. He’s wearing rags, and he is filthy. What kind of home does this kid come from?

And when it came his time to pay I couldn't believe what I heard him say Cheesy writing to get to the chorus. You couldn’t believe it? Really?

[Chorus:] Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please Because a dress would be too gay, remember. Also, this line is jarring. "Shoes" is so far from rhyming with "please," it almost audibly shrieks out, doesn’t rhyme, doesn’t rhyme!

It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size Maybe he’s a little gay after all. What little boy knows his mom’s shoe size?

Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there's not much time Where was Daddy when you needed a bath, and your clothes wore out?

You see she's been sick for quite a while Another line to make you feel sad, Mama’s dying on Christmas. OK, I won’t pick this one apart yet. . .

And I know these shoes would make her smile One of the more baffling parts of the song. Shoes might be the very last thing on Mama’s mind right now. But this line. . .amazingly. . .rhymes.

And I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight OK, back to Mama dying on Christmas. Apparently, she’s not only dying, she’s dying of one of those women’s movie/soap opera diseases that doesn’t disfigure you. I mean, if all it takes to make her beautiful is a yummy pair of shoes, she can’t look too bad, can she?

And I haven’t even mentioned the cloying, syrupy, calculated to make you cry "if Mama meets Jesus" part. People! If this stuff works on you, you need to know that you’ve been played!

He counted pennies for what seemed like years Because that makes the story somehow more precious. If he simply was short a bit of paper money, it wouldn’t seem so annoying/cute.

Then the cashier said, "Son, there's not enough here" This kid is not only alone, filthy and in ratty clothes, he’s too young to know how to count money. Interesting. . .

He searched his pockets frantically I’m with Blood Ray, this kid’s a grifter. And a good actor too.

Then he turned and he looked at me Sizing you up, no doubt. . .

He said Mama made Christmas good at our house, Though most years she just did without Laying it on a little thick there, kid.

Tell me Sir, what am I going to do, This kid is far too articulate to match up to the rest of the song. Maybe he’s not just a grifter, but a midget grifter.

Somehow I've got to buy her these Christmas shoes I’d swallow it if it were almost anything but shoes. What kid—especially a boy—would get so set on shoes? Does Daddy force Mama to go barefoot at home? Is that what’s going on here? Is Daddy abusive? Maybe Mama’s going to meet Jesus, and Daddy says there’s not much time because Daddy’s gonna kill her? Okay, now I'm laying it on thick. It just shows you how hard my brain tries to paint a picture out of this ridiculous plot.

So I laid the money down, I just had to help him out I’d have rhymed that better too. Finish it with, "’cause my heart had come around" or something.

I'll never forget the look on his face when he said Mama's gonna look so great Sorry, I still don’t get it. If Mama’s only problem with "looking great" is footwear, she had options. Socks, maybe? And it still doesn't rhyme. They should've spent less time being cloying, and made the friggin' thing rhyme.

[Chorus] Worse the second time around.

[Bridge:] I knew I'd caught a glimpse of heaven's love What? How? Maybe being an atheist obscures this for me, but how does an untended, filthy kid, lousy at math, but speaking in verse, whose Mama is dying on Christmas Eve from a mystery disease that leaves her pretty except for her gnarly feet--show you heaven’s love?

As he thanked me and ran out As fast as his feet would carry him, I’m sure, just in case you caught on to his con.

I knew that God had sent that little boy Couldn’t God have worked a slightly more relevant miracle? What’s more important, a little boy being robbed of his mother and Christmas in one fell swoop, or for a bad singer/songwriter to learn the alleged meaning of Christmas?

To remind me just what Christmas is all about. Yeah, yeah, I could have written that line, knowing what came before. It’s like when there was a hurricane in Mexico that destroyed a church, killed almost everyone, but it was a "miracle" that a plaster statuette of Jesus survived intact. The miracle, apparently, that Jesus saved his own butt. And the singer of this song? I really don’t know. And neither does anybody else. It’s worth mentioning that the last chorus is sung by a children’s choir, and the last line delivered by a single boy’s warble: If Mama meets Jeeeesus. . .tonight. . . Which--for me--has the exact opposite reaction from its intent. Heartstrings not tugged. . .heartstrings disgusted.

The song is quite simply calculated to make you tear up, say "awwwww," and have a vague feeling that you should play it over and over again every year. The song is also ripe for parody, and I hope one day a talented writer  comes up with a song that simultaneously skewers this song, and outsells it. My good friend Stupid Monkey Planet did write a parody song, but has unfortunately not reaped a fortune for his efforts. I'll be sharing that one in later days.


And if Blood Ray is out there, please, please send me your original post! Thankyewverymuch!

Holiday Cheer? The Christmas Shoes. Worst. Song. Ever!

One of the first blog posts I'd ever read was about the perennially overplayed Worst. Song. Ever. It inspired me to write my own post about this dreadful song, but you can't beat the original. So here, once again, is The Annotated Christmas Shoes.

[Post as it appeared last year]

Today, one of my co-workers started listening to the all Christmas songs, all the time station. It's a little early for me, but he's a Christmas fiend, and can't get enough. He was thoughtful enough to bar me from his office during the first playing--this year, at least--of The Christmas Shoes by NewSong. They should be called BadSong. Maybe CloyingSong. It is easily the worst song of all time, Christmas-themed or not.

One year ago today, I posted my first piece on this piece of dreck. And given the coincidence, I figure it's time for another go-round. So, I bring you. . .

ORIGINAL POST:


Image from source, BPryde Machine

Years ago, before I even understood what a blog was, I stumbled upon a site called Diary of a Blood Ray. It was a blog that centered around a young man, his love life, and his huge interest in musical theater. But the reason I found his site was a search I ran on Google for a music review of the NewSong holiday ditty, "The Christmas Shoes."

Every year, this song litters the airwaves, sometimes played hourly on "all Christmas, all the time" stations. It's hideous. It's badly written, cloyingly sung, and makes this grinch's heart grow many sizes smaller, whenever I hear it. As I reported a while back, I don't go in for the sap. And this song is flowing with rivers of sap.

But I digress, back to Blood Ray. He wrote a blog post called "The Annotated Christmas Shoes," which is one of the funniest, best dissections of bad verse I've ever read. I laughed till I cried, and actually got hiccups the first time I read it. Hilarious, and right down the line exactly how I felt about the song.

Blood Ray has a new name for his blog now, The BPrydeMachine. And thank Jeebus the old post is still there. If you just love The Christmas Shoes, this post will make your blood boil. If you're like me, you'll need some tissues and a hiccup cure, because you will laugh your ass off.

[Excerpt]

The Annotated "Christmas Shoes"

. . .For the next five minutes or so, I sat stupefied. While I expected some worthless tripe to poison my airwaves, I didn't expect a steaming pile of dog sh**, horribly written, and badly executed to make my ears burn. It was like this song was written in some alternate universe Brill Building, completely calculated to make one’s eyes moist and one's heart feel all warm, a modern classic to remind us "what Christmas is all about." Feh. . .

And then he goes into a line-by-line dissection:

It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line

What is "almost Christmas time"? July? Christmas sh** starts hitting the shelves in the summer, and by time Halloween is over, Thanksgiving is a one-day break from the runaway train that is Christmas, so as a listener, I’m already confused as to when this song takes place. I'm gonna go with Arbor Day.

Trying to buy that last gift or two, not really in a Christmas mood

Well, if it's only Arbor Day and he's on his last gift or two, he's doing pretty goddamn well (I've still only bought one gift at this point). . .

To excerpt any more than that wouldn't be fair to the author, but I'm telling you, it gets better and better, funnier and funnier the further you read. I hope to write my own dissection of these crappy lyrics, because I had a few ideas of my own on it, even before I read Blood Ray's take. Stay tuned [Mission accomplished. See link above!].

Read the whole post at: BPryde Machine

It's Back, The Christmas Shoes: Worst. Song. Ever.

Today, one of my co-workers started listening to the all Christmas songs, all the time station. It's a little early for me, but he's a Christmas fiend, and can't get enough. He was thoughtful enough to bar me from his office during the first playing--this year, at least--of The Christmas Shoes by NewSong. They should be called BadSong. Maybe CloyingSong. It is easily the worst song of all time, Christmas-themed or not.

One year ago today, I posted my first piece on this piece of dreck. And given the coincidence, I figure it's time for another go-round. So, I bring you. . .

ORIGINAL POST:

Image from source, BPryde Machine

Years ago, before I even understood what a blog was, I stumbled upon a site called Diary of a Blood Ray. It was a blog that centered around a young man, his love life, and his huge interest in musical theater. But the reason I found his site was a search I ran on Google for a music review of the NewSong holiday ditty, "The Christmas Shoes."

Every year, this song litters the airwaves, sometimes played hourly on "all Christmas, all the time" stations. It's hideous. It's badly written, cloyingly sung, and makes this grinch's heart grow many sizes smaller, whenever I hear it. As I reported a while back, I don't go in for the sap. And this song is flowing with rivers of sap.

But I digress, back to Blood Ray. He wrote a blog post called "The Annotated Christmas Shoes," which is one of the funniest, best dissections of bad verse I've ever read. I laughed till I cried, and actually got hiccups the first time I read it. Hilarious, and right down the line exactly how I felt about the song.

Blood Ray has a new name for his blog now, The BPrydeMachine. And thank Jeebus the old post is still there. If you just love The Christmas Shoes, this post will make your blood boil. If you're like me, you'll need some tissues and a hiccup cure, because you will laugh your ass off.

[Excerpt]

The Annotated "Christmas Shoes"

. . .For the next five minutes or so, I sat stupefied. While I expected some worthless tripe to poison my airwaves, I didn't expect a steaming pile of dog sh**, horribly written, and badly executed to make my ears burn. It was like this song was written in some alternate universe Brill Building, completely calculated to make one’s eyes moist and one's heart feel all warm, a modern classic to remind us "what Christmas is all about." Feh. . .

And then he goes into a line-by-line dissection:

It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line

What is "almost Christmas time"? July? Christmas sh** starts hitting the shelves in the summer, and by time Halloween is over, Thanksgiving is a one-day break from the runaway train that is Christmas, so as a listener, I’m already confused as to when this song takes place. I'm gonna go with Arbor Day.


Trying to buy that last gift or two, not really in a Christmas mood

Well, if it's only Arbor Day and he's on his last gift or two, he's doing pretty goddamn well (I've still only bought one gift at this point). . .

To excerpt any more than that wouldn't be fair to the author, but I'm telling you, it gets better and better, funnier and funnier the further you read. I hope to write my own dissection of these crappy lyrics, because I had a few ideas of my own on it, even before I read Blood Ray's take. [Editor's Note: I did write such a post, and will republish it in the next few days] Stay tuned.

Read the whole post at: BPryde Machine

Song Review: Anatomy of The Christmas Shoes

I’ve been wanting to write my own version of "The Annotated Christmas Shoes," since I read the original on Diary of a Blood Ray (now known as The B Pryde Machine) years ago. The first time I heard the song, my reaction was much the same as his. I wasn’t moved to tears. I didn’t find the song precious or heartwarming. The song actually kind of pissed me off.

The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that this song was brainstormed (if you can call it that) to be as manipulative of people’s emotions as possible. I can envision the writers sitting down to write a sappy Christmas song, trying to pluck the heartstrings until they frayed. Now that the season is upon us, this hideous song has already started to play. And play. And play. And I just can't take it.

So, taking a page from Blood Ray (and hopefully, not stepping on his toes too much), here is my own version, which I call "Anatomy of The Christmas Shoes." Put on your glasses, I'm shrinking the font because of length.

The Christmas Shoes by NewSong

It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line OK, It sets the scene, and it’s not so bad yet. It does manage to telegraph what’s coming though.

Tryin' to buy that last gift or two, not really in the Christmas mood Still setting the scene, and there’s the obligatory tryin’ as though "trying" wouldn’t be heartwarming enough.

Standing right in front of me was a little boy waiting anxiously Here’s where my cynic antennae start going up. I’m thinking the writers picked a boy, because a girl would just naturally do something nice for her mom. So, yeah, let’s make it a boy, to make it more poignant.

Pacing 'round like little boys do Filler. You can’t really pace in a line, and little boys don’t do it more than anyone else, do they?

And in his hands he held a pair of shoes Yes, the titular shoes. Why shoes? I’ll tell you why shoes. Because if the writers made it a hat, bra, panties, dress, or almost any other item of clothing a woman might wear, he’d seem gay. Believe it.

His clothes were worn and old, he was dirty from head to toe The scene was set, but this goes wayyy over the edge. Apparently, this is to show that the boy is poor. What it does for me is tell me that his parents aren’t taking care of him. He’s wandered away from home, unsupervised. He’s wearing rags, and he is filthy. What kind of home does this kid come from?

And when it came his time to pay I couldn't believe what I heard him say Cheesy writing to get to the chorus. You couldn’t believe it? Really?

[Chorus:] Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please Because a dress would be too gay, remember. Also, this line is jarring. "Shoes" is so far from rhyming with "please," it almost audibly shrieks out, doesn’t rhyme, doesn’t rhyme!

It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size Maybe he’s a little gay after all. What little boy knows his mom’s shoe size?

Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there's not much time Where was Daddy when you needed a bath, and your clothes wore out?

You see she's been sick for quite a while Another line to make you feel sad, Mama’s dying on Christmas. OK, I won’t pick this one apart yet. . .

And I know these shoes would make her smile One of the more baffling parts of the song. Shoes might be the very last thing on Mama’s mind right now.

And I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight OK, back to Mama dying on Christmas. Apparently, she’s not only dying, she’s dying of one of those women’s movie/soap opera diseases that doesn’t disfigure you. I mean, if all it takes to make her beautiful is a yummy pair of shoes, she can’t look too bad, can she?

And I haven’t even mentioned the cloying, syrupy, calculated to make you cry "if Mama meets Jesus" part. People! If this stuff works on you, you need to know that you’ve been played!

He counted pennies for what seemed like years Because that makes the story somehow more precious. If he simply was short a bit of paper money, it wouldn’t seem so annoying/cute.

Then the cashier said, "Son, there's not enough here" This kid is not only alone, filthy and in ratty clothes, he’s too young to know how to count money. Interesting.

He searched his pockets frantically I’m with Blood Ray, this kid’s a grifter. And a good actor too.

Then he turned and he looked at me Sizing you up, no doubt. . .

He said Mama made Christmas good at our house Though most years she just did without Laying it on a little thick there, kid.

Tell me Sir, what am I going to do, This kid is far too articulate to match up to the rest of the song. Maybe he’s not just a grifter, but a midget grifter.

Somehow I've got to buy her these Christmas shoes I’d swallow it if it were almost anything but shoes. What kid—especially a boy—would get so set on shoes? Does Daddy force Mama to go barefoot at home? Is that what’s going on here? Is Daddy abusive? Maybe Mama’s going to meet Jesus, and Daddy says there’s not much time because Daddy’s gonna kill her?

So I laid the money down, I just had to help him out I’d have rhymed that better. Finish it with, "’cause my heart had come around" or something.

I'll never forget the look on his face when he said Mama's gonna look so great Sorry, I still don’t get it. If Mama’s only problem with "looking great" is footwear, she had options. Socks, maybe? And it still doesn't rhyme. They should've spent less time being cloying, and made the friggin' thing rhyme.

[Chorus] Worse the second time around.

[Bridge:] I knew I'd caught a glimpse of heaven's love What? How? Maybe being an agnostic obscures this for me, but how does an untended, filthy kid, lousy at math, but speaking in verse, whose Mama is dying on Christmas Eve from a mystery disease that leaves her pretty except for her gnarly feet--show you heaven’s love?

As he thanked me and ran out As fast as his feet would carry him, I’m sure, just in case you caught on to his con.

I knew that God had sent that little boy Couldn’t God have worked a slightly more relevant miracle? What’s more important, a little boy being robbed of his mother and Christmas in one fell swoop, or for a bad singer/songwriter to learn the meaning of Christmas?

To remind me just what Christmas is all about. Yeah, yeah, we could have written that line, knowing what came before. It’s like when there was a hurricane in Mexico that destroyed a church, killed almost everyone, but it was a "miracle" that a plaster statuette of Jesus survived intact. The miracle, apparently, that Jesus saved his own butt. And the singer of this song? I really don’t know. And neither does anybody else. It’s worth mentioning that the last chorus is sung by a children’s choir, and the last line delivered by a single boy’s warble: If Mama meets Jeeeesus. . .tonight. . . Which really. Pukes. Me. Out.

The song is quite simply calculated to make you tear up, say "awwwww," and have a vague feeling that you should play it over and over again every year. The song is also ripe for parody, and I hope one day a talented writer (you listening, Blood Ray?) comes up with a song that simultaneously skewers this song, and outsells it.

Favorite Post: The Annotated "The Christmas Shoes"

Image from source, BPryde Machine

Years ago, before I even understood what a blog was, I stumbled upon a site called Diary of a Blood Ray. It was a blog that centered around a young man, his love life, and his huge interest in musical theater. But the reason I found his site was a search I ran on Google for a music review of the NewSong holiday ditty, "The Christmas Shoes."

Every year, this song litters the airwaves, sometimes played hourly on "all Christmas, all the time" stations. It's hideous. It's badly written, cloyingly sung, and makes this grinch's heart grow many sizes smaller, whenever I hear it. As I reported a while back, I don't go in for the sap. And this song is flowing with rivers of sap.

But I digress, back to Blood Ray. He wrote a blog post called "The Annotated Christmas Shoes," which is one of the funniest, best dissections of bad verse I've ever read. I laughed till I cried, and actually got hiccups the first time I read it. Hilarious, and right down the line exactly how I felt about the song.

Blood Ray has a new name for his blog now, The BPrydeMachine. And thank Jeebus the old post is still there. If you just love The Christmas Shoes, this post will make your blood boil. If you're like me, you'll need some tissues and a hiccup cure, because you will laugh your ass off.

[Excerpt]

The Annotated "Christmas Shoes"

. . .For the next five minutes or so, I sat stupefied. While I expected some worthless tripe to poison my airwaves, I didn't expect a steaming pile of dog sh**, horribly written, and badly executed to make my ears burn. It was like this song was written in some alternate universe Brill Building, completely calculated to make one’s eyes moist and one's heart feel all warm, a modern classic to remind us "what Christmas is all about." Feh. . .

And then he goes into a line-by-line dissection:

It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line

What is "almost Christmas time"? July? Christmas sh** starts hitting the shelves in the summer, and by time Halloween is over, Thanksgiving is a one-day break from the runaway train that is Christmas, so as a listener, I’m already confused as to when this song takes place. I'm gonna go with Arbor Day.


Trying to buy that last gift or two, not really in a Christmas mood

Well, if it's only Arbor Day and he's on his last gift or two, he's doing pretty goddamn well (I've still only bought one gift at this point). . .

To excerpt any more than that wouldn't be fair to the author, but I'm telling you, it gets better and better, funnier and funnier the further you read. I hope to write my own dissection of these crappy lyrics, because I had a few ideas of my own on it, even before I read Blood Ray's take. Stay tuned.

Read the whole post at: BPryde Machine