Breeds of Misery: Every one imaginable.

Best/Worst Verse: "Christmas is hell on earth, I know nothing worse than to be depressed and be told to be happy...Now I will say good-bye, no one will cry. Christmas goes on without me. My life is now complete, so I'll go to sleep, forever, and ever, and ever."

And now, for the season's Grand Finale...The Most. Miserable. Christmas. Song. EVER.

I just discovered the Vandals' Christmas album this year - it's perhaps the most miserable Christmas album ever, though most of the songs (like "A Gun for Christmas," or "Christmas Time for My Penis") are fairly light and jokey. Not this one: even after the song is over and the narrator has ostensibly performed the title act, you get a good two minutes of fadeout sound effects to ponder the lifeless body hanging from the symbol of everlasting life. This song probably fits into a budding subgenre a friend and I have been recently envisioning as mope porn, or maybe mopecore, notable for complete and willful immersion in the artful rendering of suffering and grief. I think this art form serves a valuable therapeutic function, especially around the holidays, of allowing a space for us to explore our darkest, most self-defeating impulses without acting on them. That, my friends, is my gift to you.


(If this isn't enough yuletide misery for you, check out last year in my Annotated Playlists.)

AuthorJohn Proctor