As the festive season envelops us in its familiar warmth, it becomes nearly impossible to escape the omnipresent soundscape of Christmas music. No matter where you go—shopping malls, cafés, or even the quiet hum of the office—it seems every loudspeaker has conspired to play the same handful of holiday standards on endless rotation. Now, let me be clear: I, too, hold an enduring affection for icons like Mariah Carey and Wham!, who have each contributed unforgettable anthems to the soundtrack of modern Christmastime. Yet, even the most devoted holiday enthusiast reaches a point when the repetition strains the ears and the patience alike. For those seeking some sonic variety, I’ve gathered ten unconventional yet compelling tracks to enliven your holiday playlist—songs that maintain the spirit of the season while offering a captivating departure from the expected.

**Tom Waits – “Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis”**
There exists a venerable lineage of melancholy Christmas songs, tales that balance the season’s joy with its inherent loneliness—think Dolly Parton’s bittersweet “Hard Candy Christmas” or The Pogues’ rough-edged “Fairytale of New York.” Yet, Tom Waits’ “Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis” may be the definitive entry in this somber subgenre. Told from the perspective of a woman reflecting on her life’s disappointments, the song unfolds like a letter filled with fragile hope and quiet despair. Its emotional reveal at the end pierces through the veneer of holiday cheer—so much so that listeners might momentarily freeze, gifts half-unwrapped, struck by the raw humanity hidden beneath its tinsel-draped melancholy.

**Lindstrøm – “Little Drummer Boy”**
While the classic duet between Bing Crosby and David Bowie has achieved near-mythic status, its frequent airplay has rendered it almost too familiar. Norwegian producer Lindstrøm reimagines the same traditional melody through an entirely different lens: a mesmerizing electronic odyssey that magnifies the song’s rhythmic persistence. His version begins with the steady pulse of the drum pattern—unyielding, hypnotic—and gradually builds into a sprawling, cosmic soundscape that feels both devotional and transcendent. Available in several edits ranging from a concise five-minute rendition to a sprawling forty-two-minute expedition, the track rewards those willing to surrender to its slow-burning groove. For a holiday playlist that longs to balance nostalgia with innovation, the extended version is pure sonic bliss.

**Axel Boman – “Holiday Extreme”**
Serving as a soothing counterpart to Lindstrøm’s expansive energy, this composition by Swedish producer Axel Boman evokes serenity rather than intensity. Built from softly oscillating synthesizers and shimmering sleigh bells, “Holiday Extreme” feels like a meditative snowfall translated into sound—a balm for the overstimulated mind after weeks of festive fanfare. If your ideal Christmas involves mindfulness, tranquility, and perhaps a steaming mug of cocoa by dim winter light, this track creates the perfect auditory cocoon. It’s a song less about celebration than contemplation, embodying what might be called the zen state of yuletide peace.

**Fucked Up – “David Christmas”**
For those who find the holiday music canon lacking in punk energy, Toronto’s hardcore collective Fucked Up offers a roaring antidote. “David Christmas” punches through sugary sentimentality with distortion, sleigh bells, and tongue-in-cheek holiday references that nod to both the Grinch and “The First Noel.” The titular David would later evolve into the protagonist of the band’s ambitious rock opera *David Comes to Life*, but here he’s the heart of a raucous seasonal anthem. It’s the rare Christmas track that makes you want to start a mosh pit beneath the tree—a glorious collision of aggressive spirit and unlikely festivity.

**They Might Be Giants – “Santa’s Beard”**
There’s an odd but persistent thread of infidelity in Christmas songwriting—whether it’s Clarence Carter’s “Back Door Santa” or the deceptively innocent “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” They Might Be Giants contribute their own eccentric twist with “Santa’s Beard,” a witty and ironic narrative about a man whose partner blatantly flaunts her affair, the object of her affection disguised as none other than Santa himself. True to the band’s style, the song walks the line between absurd comedy and bittersweet irony. Beneath its humor lies a fascinating exploration of jealousy and holiday disillusionment—proof that not every seasonal tune needs to sparkle with cheer.

**Björk – “Jólakötturinn” (The Yule Cat)**
Let’s admit it: American holiday folklore, charming though it may be, often lacks the thrilling darkness found elsewhere. While the United States celebrates benign figures like Frosty and Rudolph, other cultures embrace folkloric creatures that verge on the macabre. Across Central Europe, for example, Krampus stalks misbehaving children, while in Wales, the spectral Mari Lwyd—an eerie horse skull draped in cloth—visits homes for songs and riddles. Iceland, however, offers something uniquely chilling: Jólakötturinn, the Yule Cat, a monstrous feline that prowls the snowy countryside, devouring those who fail to receive new clothes before Christmas Eve. Intended as a moral incentive for industriousness, the legend found new life in 1988 when Iceland’s own Björk transformed it into song. Her haunting lyrics evoke a creature both terrifying and majestic, its fur bristling like needles and claws described in language more poetic than comforting. The result is a holiday story that trades sugarplums for shivers.

**Low – “Just Like Christmas”**
The Minnesota trio Low, pioneers of the minimalist slowcore genre, released their *Christmas* EP in 1999—a record that remains one of the most introspective contributions to holiday music. Its opening track, “Just Like Christmas,” is unusually brisk for the band, propelled by a gentle yet lively rhythm that conveys a sense of tentative joy. Beneath the surface, though, Low’s characteristic subtlety endures: shimmering melodies, delicate percussion, and Mimi Parker’s tender vocals intertwine to create a quietly luminous atmosphere. As the song concludes in a wash of reverb and soft, tumbling drums, we are reminded that holiday wonder often exists not in grand gestures but in fleeting, personal moments of warmth.

**The Magnetic Fields – “Everything Is One Big Christmas Tree”**
Equal parts whimsical and sardonic, this song by The Magnetic Fields functions as a playful pep talk for anyone mired in holiday gloom. With characteristic wit, Stephin Merritt’s lyrics urge the listener to abandon cynicism, pick up a drink, and join in the festivities. It’s both a gentle mockery of solemn sincerity and a genuine encouragement to embrace joy, even if only superficially. The casual renaming of Santa Claus to “Sandy” adds a dash of irreverence perfectly suited to the band’s aesthetic—a reminder that happiness, like holiday spirit, need not take itself too seriously.

**Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings – “Ain’t No Chimneys in the Projects”**
In this soulful masterpiece, Sharon Jones delivered a modern classic that stands proudly beside James Brown’s righteous holiday anthem “Santa Claus Go Straight to the Ghetto.” Backed by the Dap-Kings’ impeccable musicianship—complete with tight horns, sumptuous strings, and unmatched groove—the track pays tribute to the ingenuity and quiet heroism of families who create magic for their children despite material limitations. Rather than relying on mythical visitors descending through nonexistent chimneys, Jones reminds us that true Christmas miracles often come from human love and sacrifice. It’s short, striking, and filled with authenticity.

**100 gecs – “sympathy 4 the grinch”**
Finally, for those with a taste for chaos and cheek, 100 gecs’ “sympathy 4 the grinch” offers a hypermodern reimagining of festive rebellion. This irreverent burst of hyperpop energy taps into the familiar frustration of disappointing gift exchanges, transforming it into an anarchic fantasy of taking revenge on Santa himself. Layered with explosive production, punkish humor, and a gleefully absurd hook, the song captures both the humor and angst of holiday disillusionment. It’s loud, strange, and undeniably infectious—though perhaps best reserved for audiences who appreciate their Christmas spirit delivered with a mischievous grin.

So, as you assemble your holiday soundtrack this year, consider venturing beyond the predictable lineup of standards. These songs, diverse in mood and genre, remind us that the season’s magic lies not only in nostalgia but also in discovery—finding new ways to hear, feel, and celebrate the strange, shimmering spectacle that is Christmas.

Sourse: https://www.theverge.com/column/848710/christmas-song-deep-cuts