For downright awful Christmas lyrics you cannot beat Mojo Nixon’s Christmas album. I’m not even going to name the album, the title being almost as salty as the lyrics, few of which I’d be able to print here.
Mr. Nixon, whose autograph I still have from a concert at the old Cat’s Cradle in Chapel Hill (He signed it to “Drew Spew”), does the greatest version of “Mr. Grinch” you will ever hear, as well as a cover of “Good King Winceslas” in which he “forgets” the lyrics and just goes “la la la” after the first verse. His version of “Santa Clause, Go Straight to the Ghetto” jams more than James Brown’s, and he even covers the “Batman smells” version of “Jingle Bells.”
He was as vulgar and crass as rock musicians come (last I checked he was retired and working as a DJ in San Diego, though he briefly unretired to do some benefits for Kinky Friedman), but also clever, hilarious and more talented than some who’ve become rich and famous.
