#114: Midnight Mass 2025
BNB's annual roundup of Christmas(ish) music.
It’s December, so that means it’s time for Band Name Bureau’s Midnight Mass, our annual roundup of holiday music.
While I imagined a deluge of AI slop awaiting me at Bandcamp, it was lighter than I expected (especially compared to what I found for Halloween). I decided ahead of time not to highlight any obvious AI tomfoolery for Midnight Mass, because a) I’m tired of hearing/talking about it, and b) let’s not feed the machine.
And anyway, AI tech can’t yet replicate the singular magic of grindcore. A song title like “Jingle My Ballz” may sound obvious, but Suno could never capture the vibe like ::checks notes:: Putrid Cock Grinder.
Yes, barely 100 words into a Christmas-music roundup is awfully early to throw around words like “putrid cock grinder,” but I follow the muse, y’all. To quote Clark Griswold, I hope it enhances your holiday spirit.
This being grindcore, I have no idea what the vocals are saying. I didn’t realize I was even hearing vocals at first, because they’re so low and guttural. The lyrics are probably deeply silly and scatological—and hopefully not insanely misogynistic. You never know with grindcore. But we do know PCG is concerned about testicular health, as last month it dropped “I Have Microplastics in My Balls.”
Speaking of Christmas Vacation, if you’re a fan of that movie and ’90s SoCal punk, Hooray For Dad1 has a song for you. “Christmas Vacation,” from this year’s A Merry Punk Dad Christmas, basically recounts the movie from Clark Griswold’s point of view:
Now the shitter is full, the Christmas tree’s up in flames
The house is destroyed, my Christmas bonus never came
Everyone wants to leave, and I’m probably going to jail
But I can’t afford to be an elf, how will I ever make bail?
Hallelujah, holy shit, where’s the Tylenol?
They should do a split with Dad Brains.
Continuing the parental theme, Your New Parents aren’t joking with their name. Co-founders Graham Dodge and Heather Brown Dodge2 have five children,3 something my brain cannot compute as a one-and-done parent.
Adjusting to a new parent is awkward, especially when you learn they’re super into Jesus.
For whatever reason, I expected “Complicated Christmas” to be about family dynamics. And it’s not not about that…
When the kids call grandpa grandad and grandad gets called pop pop
And the uncle’s not an uncle just a friend we like a lot
Our blended family’s still the only family that we got
But then right after:
It’s a complicated Christmas
But Jesus makes it not
JC may uncomplicate Christmas, but he can’t ease the awkwardness of “But Jesus makes it not.”
Wrapping up the parental theme is Burning Dutch Girl, who beseeches listeners with “If You Don’t Buy This Christmas Single My Kids Will Starve.” The group self-describes as a “one man noise rock dripping from the ceiling and leaking out of the pipes,” so it’s not looking good for the children.
When they formed back in the mid-’90s, Weak Ass Mushroom Tea went by the Down, a name so blah and unmemorable the quartet overcompensated with this ridiculous replacement. While I have belabored how the first rule of Band Name Bureau is “Never change your name,” I support bands opting for silliness 100%.
WAMT just released Holiday Hullabaloo, which it describes as “a funny, sweet, and sometimes subversive holiday album.” “I Can’t Believe It’s Fucking Christmas Time Again” says everything in the title, but “Hell Ya! It’s Christmas Time” is a curveball.
It’s about growing up in Southeast Asia, where they’ve “never seen sleighs, just monsoon days” and “never read the Bible, don’t know about disciples.” That changes in 1979, the narrator’s first Christmas.
I can finally say
I’ve seen the holidays
Heaven please forgive us
I still don’t pray to Jesus
But hell ya! It’s Christmas time!
That really contrasts with “M.I.L.F. and Cookies (All Santa Wants).”4
Would you expect an artist with the name the Ardvark Felon to look like this?
That’s Frank Velardo, whose name anagrams into “Ardvark Felon.” While that word is actually spelled a-a-r-d-v-a-r-k, the guy in that photo isn’t hung up on orthodoxy, man. It’s all about vibes! Like the ones you get from biting into homemade Christmas cookies. This felonious aardvark wrote a sentimental, yacht-rockin’ song about them called “Christmas Cookie Magic.”
I can taste the memories
Warm, soft and carefree
It makes me weak in the knees
May I have another please?
You know that these are my faves
My favorite flaves
Minus 20 points for “flaves.” He’s already pushing it with that “ardvark” thing.
On the other side of the holiday-cheer spectrum is the Infinite Monkey Theorem. Last year, the German artist released Christmas 2024, inspired by the never-been-done-before idea of songs “that shed light on the dark and negative sides of the holiday season: Loneliness and isolation, toxic family relationships, unbridled consumerism at the expense of the earth’s resources, and homelessness.”
Wait, what’s this? Christmas has a dark side? Why, I have never considered such a thing! Please to elaborate on your songs, mein Herr!
“I Dreamed of a Carol” (about living in a dream world and excessive expectations of Christmas), “Silent Bells” (about the last Christmas on Earth before the extinction of mankind), “Christmas in Hell” (about dead rituals in toxic family constellations at family celebrations) and “Il freddo dell’ asfalto”5 (about Christmas Eve in the big city from the point of view of a homeless person).
Feeling the spirit yet? If you’re feeling melodramatic and angry at your family this holiday season, cue up “Christmas in Hell”:
The family’s gathered, in contempt and despair
Only hatred and envy, there’s no love in the air
No tinsel, no songs, no holly or cheer
Is Christmas in Hell worse than Christmas right here
That is probably the most German thing ever.
Very Canadian is Toronto’s Kristian Noel Pedersen, who just released his 17th album of Christmas music, Bullshit & Gift Wrapping. That title reads like the text your friend sends after you ask what they’re up to back home. “I don’t know, just bullshit & gift wrapping.”
Pedersen’s streak is impressive, especially considering his albums aren’t just rehashed standards. They’re all originals as far as I can tell, made with genuine craft. It reminds me of his fellow Canadian Jon K. Samson of the Weakerthans, with elements of Sufjan Stevens and other sensitive boys with thin voices. (That sounds like a dig, but I like those guys. Maybe because I’m also a sensitive boy with a thin singing voice?)
Well, shit. This is an anticlimactically sincere way to end Midnight Mass. Hold on, let me check my notes. Okay, this will do:
Something called Holiday Super Spreader released “World’s Worst Rendition of Feliz Navidad,” and it’s hard to argue. Ever wanted to sit in on your friends’ band practice while they try to figure out a song? Well I have good news.
POST-SCRIPTS
OG Band Name Bureau readers may recall the story about my friend’s high school death metal band, which originally went by the name Genital Grinder. They changed it to Biophobic so they’d be taken more seriously, but not for the reason you think. “Genital Grinder” is a Carcass song, and they didn’t want to seem unoriginal. They had a song called “Coprophagic Kleptomaniac,” about a person who steals feces to eat it. Now that’s original.
Want to read the longest way to say “I made this with AI”? “This project was made possible through tools shaped by generations of artists. Their influence moves through every word, sound, and image. We honor the creative lineage behind it all.” Mm-hmm.
The above is for an album called Obscene Celebration, about “the lie we dress in glitter and call joy. The ritual of pretending the machine is holy because it hums in red and gold. We stand beneath its glow, calling the fumes ‘faith,’ wrapping despair in tinsel and calling it love.” Also, have you ever noticed how if you rearrange the letters in “Santa,” it spells “Satan”?!?! 🤯🤯🤯
Coming next month: It’s January, so it’s time to look at the bands that formed 20 years ago, which includes some biggies like Vampire Weekend and Cage the Elephant. And let’s not forget Cannabis Corpse.
POST-POST-SCRIPT
Hey, speaking of anticlimactic sincerity, here are my favorite albums of the year, in no real order (though the top two are my faves). I dropped these songs on a playlist, along with some others I liked this year.
Weakened Friends, Feels Like Hell. No surprise here, if you’ve been reading Band Name Bureau this year. This album slays. Start here: “Not for Nothing.”
Press Club, To All the Ones That I Love. My other favorite album this year. Punky indie rock from Australia, and Spotify tells me I played this song 29 times in 2025 (I’m about to make it 30): “Vacate.”
Winona Fighter, My Apologies to the Chef. I’ve been a fan of this Memphis punk band for a couple years now. Super melodic and polemic, with one of my favorite songs of the past couple years: “I’M IN THE MARKET TO PLEASE NO ONE.”
The Beaches, No Hard Feelings. The Beaches specialize in attitude-heavy post-punk focused on making the most of youth (i.e., sleeping around and staying out late). Start here: “Did I Say Too Much.”
Neko Case, Neon Grey Midnight Green. Case is basically a layup for my year-end list every time she releases something. Start here: “Winchester Manchester of Sound.”
Superchunk, Songs in the Key of Yikes. Speaking of layups, Superchunk released another great new album (the title…well, you can’t win ’em all). Start here: “Bruised Lung.”
Motion City Soundtrack, The Same Old Wasted Wonderful World. This is Motion City Soundtrack’s first album since their brief hiatus, and you can always count on them for hooky pop-punk with occasionally devastating lyrics. Start here: “You Know Who the Fuck We Are.”
Chance the Rapper, Star Line. Speaking of devastating, check out this song: “No More Old Men.”
Clipse, Let God Sort Em Out. Clipse has made some of my favorite hip-hop of the past 20+ years, so I was thrilled that Pusha T and Malice reunited. This song uses a Werner Herzog line for a hook, so 🤌: “The Birds Don’t Sing.”
Pelican, Flickering Resonance. Chicago’s masters of instrumental metal have been quiet for a few years, but this is the opposite of quiet. Start here: “Cascading Crescent.”
Beach Bunny, Tunnel Vision. Lili Trifilio has a knack for hooky indie rock with insightful lyrics. This is her best work to date, and this song rules: “Clueless.”
Bob Mould, Here We Go Crazy. He’s an icon who can be counted on for a solid album every couple of years. While my brain processes that Sugar is playing shows next year, this album delivers what Mould does so well. Start here: “Fur Mink Augurs.” And check out the new Sugar song!
Horsegirl, Phonetics On and On. I was kind of underwhelmed by this album’s minimalism, but it has stayed with me. Start here: “2468.”
Swami John Reis, Time to Let You Down. I recently played this again and wondered why I haven’t been listening to it nonstop. John Reis is a legend. See also the new Plosivs album. Start here: “Prince of the Parade.”
Their bio: “Hooray For Dad is punk rock for dads. Writing songs that capture the experience of being a dad with a sound influenced by 90’s punk rock.” My favorite: “Put the Screen Away.” I should play it for my daughter.
In the mid-’00s, the Dodges played in an LA indie band called Esquimaux, which is the plural version of the French word for eskimo, a word that’s frowned upon these days. (Although we hear it a lot this time of year, thanks to “The Christmas Song” and “Winter Wonderland.”) I’m sure the members of Esquimaux spent the whole time spelling the name for people.
Including one named Luke Dodge, who appears in lots of vertical dramas, the soapy, serialized, short-form videos that blew up in China and are now becoming a thing here. Somewhere, Jeffrey Katzenberg dries his tears on leftover Quibi merch.
Unlike the other songs, Weak Ass Mushroom Tea doesn’t include the lyrics to this one, but here’s a sample: “The missus isn’t giving him the cold shoulder / It’s just the fact that she’s getting older / And everybody knows Santa likes ’em young.”
Google Translate tells me this means “The cold of the Asphalt” in Italian.