Cashing in on Christmas: the decline of festive music

‘It is especially interesting that, in today’s post-modern, secular, scientific, uber-factual world, carols are able to continue to hold their place in Christmas celebration.’

This article featured in our December 2019 special print issue, ‘The Communion Manifesto’, available for purchase here.

‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas’ - or so, at least, demanded the speakers in my place of work at the beginning of November. Such is the effect of the commercialisation - or greedification, if you will - of Christmas that the music begins and the trees are propped up almost two months prior to the actual ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’, and are then ripped back down on the morning of December 26th, when all possible profits have been mopped up.

(Ironically, however, the use of the term ‘Christmas’ is increasingly frowned upon, and is abandoned by retailers and institutions for the more inclusive - and so, more modern - ‘festive’.)

The commercialisation of Christmas music can be seen not only in its being played from early November onwards, but also from its substance.

The modern tunes are - with but a few exceptions - taccy, uncouth and, perhaps most significantly, short-lived. This is no accident. Christmas music today is not written in order to remind listeners - or, indeed, singers - of the importance of the season (never mind of the birth of Christ) but to achieve ‘hit’ status and make some quick cash.

As Allison Stewart writes in the Washington Post,   

‘To write a would-be classic is an exercise in delayed gratification, the opposite of writing a hit. A hit registers almost immediately; standards can take years to make themselves known. Hits channel the moment; classics must sound timeless.’

As has already been noted, the fact that such songs become ‘hits’ does not mean that they are long-lasting. You will hear them in supermarkets and on the television - perhaps a band you may go to watch will play a single cover - but that is about it. On the other hand, thousands of churches, town halls, schools, streets and, indeed, even doorsteps are filled annually with the rich sound of traditional choral measure.

Many of the better-known carols come from the Middle Ages; The Coventry Carol being one notable example. In spite of this, a good proportion are less than 200 years old. Silent Night was devised in 1818 and Good King Wenceslas in 1853. The reason for their timelessness is, however, that they were based on earlier works (the version of Good King Wenceslas we know today is, for example, an adaptation of a much earlier version, written hundreds of years before the nineteenth century) and were intended to transcend a short-term popular status.

Even today, some composers of carols are harking back to the classics, with good results. The Shepherd’s Carol from 2000 is a perfect example of this. So good Christmas music does not have to be centuries old; it merely has to emulate the classic style which demonstrably works.

Jeremy Summerly, from the Royal College of Music, puts it best:                       
‘Where a carol has originated becomes almost irrelevant. The interesting thing is where they have taken root and are being performed today’.

Add to this that which will not only be performed today but performed tomorrow, and thereafter, and you have the perfect formula for a moral, merry madrigal.

It is especially interesting that, in today’s post-modern, secular, scientific, uber-factual world, carols are able to continue to hold their place in Christmas celebration.

As I mentioned earlier, the main focus of this time of year is the birth of Christ - hence Christmas. Many of the people singing the carols (myself included) do not whole-heartedly believe in the messages of the pieces. Yet, it is interesting to note that this does not seem to matter here - Christmas, and that which comes with it, has transcended the religious divide into a quasi-religious, quasi-cultural holiday.

Certainly, I can think of no other time of the year when agnostics or, indeed, die-hard atheists would utter such sentences as ‘Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day to save us all from Satan's pow'r when we were gone astray’ (from God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen).

 Certainly, this is one of the peculiar charms of Christmas music.