The Christmas No.1 single, in Britain at least, is one of the most mystifyingly coveted spots for recording artists. They will do anything – ANYTHING – to secure it, mostly by tugging at your heartstrings. They’ll duet with old codgers. They’ll go on about the war. They’ll employ tiresome puns in song titles. Then non-musicians get involved, and it all really turns to shit. Men in pink rubber costumes. Bloody animated builders. It’s almost enough to make you vomit into your crimblus stocking.
Well, there’s a whole world of Christmas awfulness out there, readers, and it’s only fair that you know about it. Therefore, here at My Chemical Toilet we’re going to be counting down the fifteen worst examples of seasonal crap that I could find before suicide became a viable way out. One a day, every (week) day. I had to research this and I’m still alive, so I know you can make it through as well.
I went further afield than your bog standard Power Rangers hits though – quite a few of these pieces of aural excrement may be new to you. This will not make them any more bearable, but whatcha gonna do? As a special treat for enduring these horrors, we’ll be putting up a playlist of good (OK, half-decent) Christmas tunes nearer the big day.
Click over for Number 15, and check back every day to see how bad Christmas music can really get…

Number 15: Band Aid II – Do They Know It’s Christmas
OK, OK, it was for charity. But I’m sorry, that is not a get-out clause when it comes to crud. If anything it should spur people on to do better. The first version of “Do They Know It’s Christmas” at least put across some soul. It felt groundbreaking, tied up as it was with the Live Aid spirit. Even if they were all getting coked up in the toilets before entering the studio (and I’m not saying they were, lawyers), it captured the public’s imagination and made folk believe they could make some kind of difference just by purchasing a single.
Then, a few years later, came the Stock / Aitken / Waterman version, when a new breed of popstrel got in on the act. It’s interesting to contrast the robotic, multi-tracked vocals of Sonia and Kylie – which almost sound as if they’re being beamed in from another dimension – with the noxious over-emoting of Marti Pellow and Lisa Stansfield. As for Pellow’s gurning – it positively defines the term “shit-eating”. Oh, and there’s uncle Cliff, look, mixing with the young folk! And looking like your dad at G.A.Y.
Could have done without Michael Buerk popping up before the end, as well. His voice is SHIT.

[video provided by clifffan]

Posted by Stuart Waterman on Monday December 3rd, 2007 at 4:39 pm