A Barenaked Christmas
Christmas music is a mood best supported by variety rather than entirety. Before streaming services became our de facto listening system, I recall hand-selecting five holiday CDs and loading them into my parents’ disc-changer, selecting “shuffle” so it felt like we were getting a mix of songs rather than listening to any one album all the way through.
Perhaps it was that upbringing or the broader (and continually expanding) catalog of available Christmas music, but the season has long struck me as an ideal use case for playlists. However, the exception to that rule seems to be the 2004 special release from whimsical Canadian pop-rock band the Barenaked Ladies, Barenaked for the Holidays. I grew up on BNL so, naturally, I got my hands on the CD when it first came out. It’s since become my seasonal staple; you might even say it’s not officially Christmastime until I put it on.
The Christmas canon oscillates between jolly, whimsical fare and more nostalgic—bordering on melancholic—songs, and I’ve always thought BNL struck a fine balance between those two camps. They render “Carol of the Bells” with warm reverence. A beautiful organ, courtesy of Kevin Hearn, opens the track before shifting into an electronic keyboard for a lighter touch, while lead singers Steven Page (who left the band in 2009) and Ed Robertson dip into their lower registers to concoct the titular bells. It is an extremely BNL cover.
That’s the beauty of Barenaked for the Holidays. The band opts for less-ubiquitous traditionals, like “I Saw Three Ships” and “We Three Kings” (done with Sarah McLachlan), and inclusive holiday songs, like “Hanukkah, Oh Hanukkah.” But when they do cover more recognizable songs, they lean toward color rather than away from it. “Deck the Stills” reimagines “Deck the Halls” as a tribute to the 1970s folk-rock supergroup Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. And nestled as brief wraps around longer tracks are lounge lizard versions of “O Holy Night,” “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” and “Wonderful Christmastime,” which all feature pre-programmed midi beats that lend Christmas a pixelated note.
Beyond stamping the classics with their unique take, BNL lace the album with original songs. “Snowman” is a sober Robertson-delivered reflection about feeling out of place—a telling contrast to Frosty the Snowman’s merry and manic verve for a life shortly lived (“Let’s run and we’ll have some fun/ Now before I melt away”). “Elf’s Lament” is a pre-Amazon reminder about the labor crunch Santa’s workers face every year sung with Michael Bublé, and “Christmas Pics” is a jazz-laced family narrative that frames a number of different cozy scenes.
Everyone has their favorite Christmas music—be it tracks or albums—but since Barenaked for the Holidays entered the world nearly 20 years ago, my Christmases have been a little warmer thanks to the winking cheer of those Canadian scamps. The wide-ranging nature of the album—the sheer variety they pack across 20 tracks—sets a snug glow about the season. There’s no need for a playlist because BNL borrows a little bit from here and a little bit from there to create something merry and bright.
