QUITE naturally, I've had a few Christmas related Ohrwurms over the past couple of weeks. There's been Jingle Bell Rock; Frosty The Snowman; The Beach Boys' wonderful Little Saint Nick; and my guilty pleasure, Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas Is You (I know I shouldn't, but I do).
  I'm assuming that your feelings about Christmas Time (Don't Let The Bells End) depend on how you feel about The Darkness in general. I like them, and I like this, even if it does sound like a b-side that's been tarted up with a few Christmassy lyrics.
  Anyway, I was on the S Bahn this morning, going to a far off district where there's a shop that sells Brit food (gotta have some Quality Street at Christmas, haven't you?). This song had its foot on the monitor on the stage inside my brain, rockin' away, when two buskers got on the carriage I was in and stood right next to me. The Darkness were soon to be fighting a losing battle, as these chaps began to play a guitar and mandolin version of Dream A Little Dream.
  I can handle buskers who are playing in places where you move past them. In train stations, outside C&A, etc., but when they stand next to you on a moving train in an enclosed carriage, with no espace route, it seems frightfully presumptuous and a little bit rude. Maybe someone in that carriage was allergic to the mandolin (not me; I'm allergic to the saxophone, the most dreadful instrument of all time); maybe someone was breaking up with their loved one on the mobile telephone at the time (right before Christmas? you cruel cold-hearted bastard!), and the last thing you'd need at a time like that would be to have someone playing Dream A Little Dream in the background.
  Thankfully, by the time I was out on the street, The Darkness had returned.
Monday 22 December 2003