45s MAGNUM SATAN EATS THE COOKIES
It being December as I write, I thought I’d commence with a couple timeless and classic hard rock holiday singles of fairly recent vintage, and then move on to presents you should have received but didn’t. Spinal Tap’s melodically turbid “Christmas With The Devil” (Enigma, P.O. Box 2896, Torrance, CA 90509), released at the tail end of the justly-forgotten foursome’s abortive 1984 comeback bid, is heavy-duty hell-hole umlautmusic-for-money with a stygian text that goes "There’s someone up the chimney and Satan is his name / The rats ate all the presents and the reindeer ran away”; scary stuff, not suited for the squeamish or unduly theological.
45s MAGNUM SATAN EATS THE COOKIES
Chuck Eddy
It being December as I write, I thought I’d commence with a couple timeless and classic hard rock holiday singles of fairly recent vintage, and then move on to presents you should have received but didn’t. Spinal Tap’s melodically turbid “Christmas With The Devil” (Enigma, P.O. Box 2896, Torrance, CA 90509), released at the tail end of the justly-forgotten foursome’s abortive 1984 comeback bid, is heavy-duty hell-hole umlautmusic-for-money with a stygian text that goes "There’s someone up the chimney and Satan is his name / The rats ate all the presents and the reindeer ran away”; scary stuff, not suited for the squeamish or unduly theological. Cynical traditionalists would perhaps prefer Plan 9’s “Merry Christmas’’ (Midnight, P.O. Box 390, Old Chelsea Station, New York, NY 10011) also from '84, but with '68-style druggy Rickenbacker dissemination and grieved talk of “an old guy in a pile of snow.”