I like to imagine it’s the sort of thing St. Nick would put on when he’s in a contemplative mood.
Give Michael W. Smith points for not laying it on too thick.
Think instrumentals loaded with straight-from-Kingston trombones and reverb-soaked percussion.
Jul i andlighetens rum is as beautiful as a Stockholm snowfall at midnight.
Can we declare a moratorium on new recordings of date-rape how-to “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”, for, say, five years?
It’s kind of like Tenacious D doing Christmas songs, only it’s not supposed to be funny.
Somewhere, Liberace is snickering while applying the fifth pound of tinsel to his Christmas tree.
A caveat: this EP does not include any version of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas”.