Look, I should probably start with myself. The only Christmas music I listen to every year comes on Bing Crosby's White Christmas, featuring the Andrews Sisters and Carol Richards. From that an FBI profiler would be able to judge that I'm a white male, late 20s-early 30s, with a large collection of screwball comedy DVDs, at least one biography of Frank Capra, and a latent desire to be Chevy Chase in a Vacation movie, ideally not European or Vegas.
Your Christmas music diet is no less revealing. What follows is a kind of Christmas horoscope, with all due apologies to people whose particular tastes have been elided.
Pop stars: I'm not entirely sure you exist anymore.More »