You’ve been handed the aux (connected to the Bluetooth speaker) at a holiday soirée and are frantically searching for a good original Christmas song to queue that’s a deeper cut than Phoebe Bridgers covering “Christmas Song” or Wolf Alice’s take on “Santa Baby.” You want to keep things festive while impressing people with your in-the-know music taste, but you realize that’s been getting harder each year. You think part of it is your dependence on algorithms, which spoon-feed you middle-of-the-road Spotify Sessions or quote-unquote cool bands lightly tweaking songs you’ve heard a million times so they shift an inch from exceedingly radio-friendly to still-very-much radio-friendly.
But then you pull up FLOOD Magazine dot com and you suddenly realize that you don’t have to consign yourself or your fellow partygoers to Christmas hits written pre-1990 and their beige cover versions. Your Christmas listening can have the breadth of your January-to-November listening habits. We’re talking clattering emo, cozy indie-pop, bygone electro-bossa, earache no-wave, cheerful jangle-pop, poignant singer-songwriter fare, cheesy pop-punk, and all their friends and contortions and offshoots.
Christmas contains multitudes, just like you. To prove it, we’ve dug out 25 original holiday tunes—not covers!—that won’t be on that made-for-you mix. We’ve also grouped these linearly and by vibe for added convenience. Sit back with something mulled and get a little crazy this holiday season.
PART I: FUN FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY
OK, we’re getting this party started with tunes at the more palatable end of the spectrum. You want to ease people into your DJ set.
The Flaming Lips, “Christmas at the Zoo”
The Flaming Lips are the socially acceptable token “weird” band, and this track will make everyone go, “Ooh! Good shout!” because they forgot that the Oklahomans got Christmassy on their 1995 album Clouds Taste Metallic. “Christmas at the Zoo” is ready-made karaoke for kids and adults alike: the guitars and synths fizz away haphazardly, but the lyrics basically just list off a bunch of different animals. There’s even a whistling chorus. All things considered, this is an auspicious first needle drop.
Tacocat, “Snow Day”
Sure, a snow day could hit months after the Christmas decorations have been put back in the basement, but the palindromic Seattle band’s 2014 tune has the sassy storytelling about how much you love to hate your city and the rollicking riffs that made The Waitresses’ “Christmas Wrapping” such an enduring seasonal staple. Throw in the prominent tambourine that’s redolent of sleigh bells and you’ve got yourself a riot-pop Christmas bop.
The Cords, “Favourite Time”
The Cords are a teenage sister duo from Glasgow that’s already rubbed shoulders with every legend of Scottish indie music: They’ve shared bills with The Pastels, The Vaselines, and Belle and Sebastian, and recorded their full-of-beans Christmas tune using Stuart Braithwaite’s Jazzmaster. “Favourite Time” is uncomplicatedly fun, bursting with the kind of harmonies that only siblings can pull off, and the antithesis to any maudlin baby-please-come-home sentiments. Proof that Christmas songs can sound like giddy snowball fights if you know where to look.
En Attendant Ana, “Close Your Mouth Because Christmas Is the Day!”
I know we said no covers, but I’m willing to bet that few of your partygoers will have heard of baroque-pop vocal group The Free Design, whose Christmas A/B single “Close Your Mouth (It’s Christmas)” / “Christmas Is the Day” gets a mash-up homage courtesy of En Attendant Ana. The Parisian indie-pop outfit also chuck in the epic Ukrainian staple “Carol of the Bells” toward the end, ’cause why the heck not—it’s Christmas! The result is nostalgically anachronistic, thanks to Omnichord swells and girl-groupy harmonies, but spun with the cool, pristine style that makes En Attendant Ana one of the most casually brilliant bands around right now.
Starflyer 59, “A Holiday Song”
That this song hasn’t scored the opening credits of a holiday movie is a hell of a missed opportunity. It has the perfect balance of lightly sad lyrics and jolly instrumentation that calls to mind Badly Drawn Boy’s About a Boy soundtrack—jangly, goofy Britpop through the filter of Californian sunshine. You’ve got burps of Hammond organ, Big Star’s bright strums, and a great turnaround halfway through each verse that’s crying out for some dad dancing.
PART II: LET’S TURN UP THE HEAT
This is nice and all, but some reeeally cool people have shown up at the party. You think it’s time for the playlist to get a little more left-of-center, a little meaner. Let’s ruffle a few feathers with some slightly more #edgyshit.
Cynthia Dall, “Christmas (California)”
Cynthia Dall’s Christmas tune is more Halloween than stockings-by-the-fireplace, opening with a Carpenter-like (John, not Karen and Richard; or Christ, for that matter) piano motif. Known for her cryptic and austere style as well as collaborations with Smog, Dall was never gonna deliver prototypical seasonal fare, but when she sings “What are you buying me for Christmas? / It better be good,” it sounds like an actual threat. The urgency keeps building throughout this one, driven by a single distorted chord being methodically dug into like an ax meeting a tree in an empty forest. The whole song is a crescendo until Dall falls into the whispered refrain of “All year I’ve been lying,” a fairly chilling admission that probably means she’s gonna end up on the naughty list.
The Promise Ring, “B Is for Bethlehem”
Wisconsin emo second-wavers The Promise Ring are here to remind us of Christmas’ OG meaning: Bible stuff. Cap’n Jazz alum Davey von Bohlen blocked-nose wails about Jesus fishing men from the devil’s hands while the bass trundles energetically and clattering guitars hustle to keep up. When that tight, stabby bridge section hits, I’m convinced this unusually cheery bop could make a believer out of anyone.
Superchunk, “Pulled Muscle”
If Superchunk’s Mac McCaughan hiccuping sweetly about dragging a Christmas tree through the snow and leaving it at your feet doesn’t make you swoon in the key of Hallmark punk-rock, you’re shit out of luck. When the guitars jet off in a cloud of magic reindeer dust during the outro, this track from the North Carolinians’ 1999 record practically lifts you off the ground.
Death Valley Girls, “Season of Dreaming”
Brooklyn label Bone Sound Inc. is a goldmine of alternative Christmas originals. Every year for the last five years, they bring out a Slow Xmas comp. If the title didn’t give it away, this stuff leans slowcore, and this track from LA band Death Valley Girls is eerie and Elfman-y with its sombre, twisting saxophone lines, which sound like they’re being played from beyond our world, pervading the fabric of time or something.
that dog., “Holidays”
Thinking that Christmas is lame is, at a certain age, a hip and original take. So if your partygoers are that age, this track will go over great. Anna Waronker mumbles dejectedly about “The same thing every time” and her head and body being consumed by malaise. If you don’t know that dog., they’re one of the most underrated bands, like, ever, their music subverting its own sweetness with grit and spit. This track is one of the LA group’s slower ones: It’s gorgeous, yet a little bit fucked-up and bleak—just like Christmas?—with clever, sighing harmonies and quivering violin lines. that dog.’s music hints that it loves you but will eat your face if it feels like it.
Kristin Hersh, “Christmas Underground”
The leader of Throwing Muses has an unmistakable voice: gravelly, seen-it-all, and—most of all—rousing. Even with just battered acoustic guitars and an enthusiastic egg shaker, this tune sounds like Christmas could turn violent. But its lyrics share a cautionary tale against the harmful effects of the hard stuff: “Grey Goose’ll fake you out / Herradura’s gonna melt you down / I don’t wanna let you spill out / Degrading’s degrading all around,” Hersh huffs—a gritty reminder of what taking it too far might look like.
PART III: LET’S GET FULLY WEIRD
Fuck it. It’s time to pull out the unhinged, back-of-the-cupboard stuff. This is the only time these tracks get to see the light of day.
Sonic Youth, “Santa Doesn’t Cop Out on Dope”
If you have small children in the house, maybe don’t play this one around them, as Thurston Moore’s unhinged yelling about Saint Nick’s propensity for illicit substances is likely to scar even the more robust ones. To call this a “song”—which Moore does when creepily beckoning to all the little girls and boys—would be generous, but I guess if you’re in a well-ventilated area, then there is a time and a place for the mangled feedback, subversive sentiments, and a “Merry Christmas, Everybody!” scream that definitely shows up that of Noddy Holder.
Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, “Harsh the Herald Angels Sing”
For fans of Chicago keyboard-whisperer Owen Ashworth, the 2006 piano-first track “Cold White Christmas” might be the obvious choice here—but how can you not go with the buzzy organ capsule on which he glumly intones, “How harsh the herald angels sing / I’ve been puking my guts all morning”? If that isn’t Christmas in a can—anti-Christmas to a tee—I don’t know what is.
The Fall, “Christmastide”
I’m amazed that such an infamously antisocial band has not only this Christmas original, but the bewildering “We Wish You a Protein Christmas” (whatever that is), plus covers of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” and “Jingle Bell Rock.” Our pick goes to “Christmastide” from the 1997 album Levitate because of its entrancing shuffle groove and a sporadic dial-up-modem keyboard that carelessly attacks the notes from “Deck the Halls.”
Beat Happening, “Christmas”
Calvin Johnson wailing atonally about having sex on Christmas and feeling like hell while someone bangs pots and pans with zero other accompaniment is apt to scare off all Christmas magic and/or unwanted party guests. If that’s what you’re after, give this a try.
PART IV: CHILL OUT TIME
The party is petering out, but your favorite people are still here, and you’re sitting around trading slurred memories of Christmases past. These more reserved, touchy-feely tracks are going to make you feel like you’re in a snowglobe while soundtracking the truism that nothing good ever happens after 2 a.m.
Frankie Cosmos, “One Year Stand”
Frankie Goes to Hollywood is out; Frankie Cosmos is in. “I see your face / In the Christmas magazine, in a candy cane,” the anti-folk GOAT Greta Kline hums sweetly over an organ drone that bathes you in the kind of warm, safe glow you get from your parents’ house around the holidays. More than someone else paying for the heating, it’s someone else taking care of you, and that’s how most of Kline’s work sounds—comforting and percolating with generosity. This cut from 2022’s Inner World Peace is so on-the-money that I can’t believe it isn’t on every radio station during the season of perpetual hope.
Antena, “Noelle a Hawaii”
Who wants to spend Christmas in a tropical climate anyway? Belgian electro-bossa trio Antena does, OK, Kevin? This track from the band’s 2006 album Camino del Sol is so airy and alluring it feels like stepping into a dream (or, I guess, Hawaii), so if you happen to be holded up in unusually cold climes this season, wishing for an away-cation, its surfy swells and plinky mallets may come in handy.
Sufjan Stevens, “Did I Make You Cry on Christmas Day? (Well, You Deserved It!)”
Sufjan Stevens is the only artist on this list with a five-disc, two-hour Christmas album, that’s for sure. Even after you’ve disqualified the covers, picking one tune is far from easy, but this is certainly a hidden gem. Stevens juxtaposes the title’s punch with a self-effacing examination of communication breakdown, the tension punctuated by a single synth note that bleeps like a heart-rate monitor.
Luna, “Egg Nog”
This brief instrumental from Dean Wareham’s post–Galaxie 500 project is wistful, laidback, and dusted with jingle bells. For the most part, it vamps between just two chords, but is a masterclass in pulling instruments into the background or foreground to lead you on a sonic journey, whether that’s the shooting-star glide guitar or the twinkling of the xylophone. Everyone gently jostles for attention while forming a cohesive, cocooning whole.
Dove Ellis, “It Is a Blizzard”
In the grand scheme of things, the Geese/Cameron Winter hype train has only just left the station, but Galway-born Dove Ellis has already been earmarked as next year’s indie-prince-about-town. People be name-dropping Jeff Buckley, Rufus Wainwright, and Leonard Cohen. You’re not gonna win this one—show everyone that you’re plugged in by slipping this slumping, bruised track into your set. “I’ll be gone by Christmas,” goes Ellis’ wavering refrain as he resolves to leave behind the dressed-up streets and so-cold north.
PART V: THE REFLECTIVE, TIPSY WALK HOME
Whew, what a night! Almost everyone loved your music choices. Your crush said, “Same time next year?” with a wink. Now you’ve got a 30-minute trudge home through the snow. You can’t believe it’s your last Christmas in your twenties, though. Where did the time go? Will you ever have your own family to share the holidays with, or will you just keep measuring your worth and Christmas’ success by whether or not you can impress strangers at parties with obscure indie rock songs? You swear it used to be colder at this time of year, too. And come to think of it, where did this beer belly come from? Uh oh. Better queue up some solitary-ugly-cry/what-does-it-all-mean tunes.
Katie Malco, “Be Good at Christmas”
Katie Malco’s music tends to sound like you’re the last person to leave the fun fair on the last day of summer. “Be Good at Christmas,” a 2016 single from the Northampton songwriter, is that same vibe but transposed onto a Christmas market situation. Clean, naked electric guitar arpeggios conspire with her ranging, sighing vocal, which is reminiscent of her frequent collaborator Laura Stevenson’s own stay-home songwriting. “Merry Christmas, darling / It don’t feel like it at all,” she murmurs with all the heartache of a kid learning the truth about Santa. Christmas has never sounded this beautifully sad (at least since that one Mud song).
Chris Farren feat. Laura Stevenson, “Waiting for You in the Snow”
Speaking of Laura Stevenson, the Long Island songwriter features on this track from Chris Farren’s Christmas album Like a Gift From God or Whatever. While Jeff Rosenstock and other DIY-punk names crop up on Farren’s largely parodic record, it’s when he plays it straight—and Stevenson’s voice lifts him up—that this slouched take on indie rock really lands. Even if “Emo Revival Christmas 2014” gives the American-Football-does-jingle-bells fix I didn’t know I needed.
The Wonder Years, “Christmas at 22”
While Dan Campbell’s pull-a-muscle croon is most at-home when sailing over the three beefy guitars he usually plays with, “Christmas at 22” is an adorable campfire-sorta ditty on which he’s helped out by the chirpy harmonies of Laura Borucki. Together they recount an aimless winter break in the life of a 22-year-old. You know the one: you hop from diner to bar to house party, then shove a frozen pizza in the oven and see what Christmas crap is on TV, content in the company of sloppy-drunk friends who still call the place you left “home”—the people who have become home. Like all acoustic pop-punk, it’s mildly grating, heavily cheesy, but undeniably endearing.
Jimmy Eat World, “12.23.95”
Sticking with pop-punk: There’s a track on Jimmy Eat World’s 1999 opus Clarity called “Crush” that gets referenced by The Wonder Years in a lyric from “Christmas at 22”: “Faintest snow keeps falling,” Dan Campbell and Jim Adkins sing on their respective tunes—a little pop punk Christmas in-universe link for you. But let’s get down to business. If we’re including a Jimmy Xmas number, it could be the screamy left-out-in-the-snow barrage that is “Christmas Card”—actually a bonus track—but at this point in the night I think it makes more sense to stick on the gentle, icy “12.23.95,” its bubbling tape loops and ersatz drum machine tick-tocking steadily counting down the hours until Santa comes (or Adkins’ baby returns his phone call or whatever). Either way, Clarity deserves to join the exclusive Christmas albums club.
Caithlin De Marrais, “Voicemail”
You may know Caithlin De Marrais from her days fronting Rainer Maria, but her solo work from the ’00s is more akin to Aimee Mann or even Tidal-era Fiona Apple: vocal-led, piano-driven songs that sound like something special is happening in a tucked-away New York cafe. In “Voicemail,” De Marrais addresses a wayward older sibling who’s been in the hospital, won’t give mom their phone number, and can only be “listened to” from a distance. “Christmas comes and goes again / How has the baby been? / There’s so many packages here for you,” she lilts as the drums pitter-patter along and she rumbles the piano’s low end. It’s mysterious and sad, but rather beautiful. Take it as a reminder to appreciate your loved ones this time of year. But maybe after you’ve slept off the eggnog and taken a shower.
