Somewhere in the 300+ blog posts I’ve written over the years — waxing poetic about traditions, food, grief, healing, lights, movies (traditional and Die Hard-adjacent), decorating, and the whole emotional kaleidoscope of December — I managed to commit an absolute holiday crime:
I have never written a post about Christmas music.
A former DJ who played dozens of holiday parties… A guy who literally created a Sixth Love Language: Music and Lyrics (which we will get into later!) A storyteller who basically treats Spotify as a mood-board generator…
And not a single dedicated Christmas music post?
Yeah. Lock me up. Put me in the tinsel gulag; straight to jail.
Christmas MMXXV —
My Christmas playlist is eclectic! The Roman Numerals represent 202X. I update the title with Roman Numerals, and each passing year with songs.
I will not list all 123 songs — just the ones that matter most to me and why.
After I celebrate Tabula Rasa Day, I fired up #Spotify and access my playlist because, baby, it’s gonna play morning, noon, and night until January 1, at 00:01. I curate moods; for myself, for others, because I absolutely love soundtracking my life. Music is how I process joy, and pain.
So it’s logical for me to have December music for December feels.
Feels Inducers
Every December, there are a handful of songs that don’t just play — they land.
These are the tracks that sneak up on me in the middle of a playlist and hit me right in the December circuitry. Maybe it’s nostalgia. Maybe it’s memory. Maybe it’s the strange alchemy of Christmas lights, cold air, and the right chord progression at the right moment.
Whatever the reason, these Top Five Feels Inducers always get me —
every year, without fail.
Not because they’re sad.
Not because they’re dramatic.
But because they carry weight.
They show up with history, heartstrings, and the emotional muscle memory of Christmases past.
So, ladies and gentlemen…
#5 — “Mary, Did You Know?” — Pentatonix
Most folks don’t realize this modern carol was written in 1985 by Mark Lowry (lyrics) and Buddy Greene (music), and first recorded by Michael English in 1991.
The Pentatonix version?
That’s the one that slips under my emotional armor every single time.
It’s reverent, haunting, and somehow both ancient and new.
A December gut-punch — in the best way.
#4 — “Coldest Winter” — Pentatonix
On lonely nights I start to fade
Her love’s a thousand miles away…
When this one plays, it hits like cold air in the lungs.
For years, I wondered if I would ever love again — a person, a season, Christmas itself. This song lives in the same emotional neighborhood as heartbreak, but it also carries that tiny ember of “maybe someday.”
And Pentatonix?
They don’t just sing — they sculpt the silence around the notes.
#3 — “The Man Who Can’t Be Moved” — Straight No Chaser
Originally released by The Script in 2008, this story-song is about a man who has run out of options — so he waits on the exact street corner where he first met her.
The Straight No Chaser version was the first one I heard, and that’s the one that earned its spot on my playlist.
This one isn’t technically a Christmas song — but emotionally?
Oh, it absolutely counts.
⭐ HONORABLE MENTION — “Christmas Lights” — Straight No Chaser
Originally Coldplay in 2011 (yes… I know… gag reflex intensifies).
But Straight No Chaser’s version is the one that found me first, so I’m treating it like theirs.
And honestly?
It’s too good not to include.
Call it a festive loophole.
#2 — “Last Christmas” — Wham!
Oscar Wilde once argued that “life imitates art far more than art imitates life.”
Well… in 2022, life took that personally.
A mutual breakup, over text, the day after Christmas.
If that isn’t the literal plot of Last Christmas, I don’t know what is.
Also: cornerstone track of #Whammageddon, a sacred December sport.
#1 — “Amazing Grace” — Straight No Chaser
Under the Influence: Holiday Edition
We opened my mother’s memorial service with “Amazing Grace” in 1997.
I held everything together until that song played — and then I cried for two weeks straight. It’s a sacred track, carrying a weight I don’t revisit lightly.
This Straight No Chaser version is the only one that doesn’t break me.
It lands softly, respectfully.
It lets me breathe.
That’s why it will always, always be #1.
La La La … Laugh Out Loud Funny
Not every Christmas song needs to summon the Ghost of Christmas Feelings Past.
Some are here for one job and one job only: to make me laugh loud enough to scare the cat.
These are the songs that hit play and instantly flip my mood, the December equivalent of a well-timed dad joke with a beat. Let’s do this Letterman-style:
#5 — “The 12 Days of Christmas” — Straight No Chaser
An absolute masterclass in musical comedy.
This arrangement takes the world’s most repetitive Christmas song and turns it into a chaotic, clever, genre-bending medley that somehow includes:
- Out-of-order days
- A Hanukkah nod
- “Africa” by Toto (an inspired choice)
- And peak a cappella showmanship
It’s confusing in the best possible way — a little musical anarchy wrapped in holiday cheer.
#4 — “The 12 Pains of Christmas” — Bob Rivers
This is the holiday season through the eyes of every exhausted adult who has ever wrapped lights, written cards, or dealt with parking lots in December.
Each “pain” escalates:
- The hangovers
- The bills
- The emotional damage of dealing with in-laws
- And of course… rigging up the lights
It’s satire, it’s therapy, and it’s painfully relatable.
#3 — “The Christmas Can-Can” — Straight No Chaser
Organized chaos at its finest.
Based on Offenbach’s can-can, this SNC classic layers:
- Rapid-fire vocals
- Lyric one-upmanship
- Holiday impatience
- And utter comedic joy
If caffeine were a Christmas song, it would be this.
#2 — “Nutcracker” — Straight No Chaser
A Nutcracker medley… but make it football season.
- Sports commentary
- Holiday melody
- Pure baritone chaos
This song is peak “Carlos in December,” when fantasy football and Christmas collide.
It’s one of their smartest, funniest arrangements — and yes, it hits even better during playoff weeks.
#1 — “Who Spiked the Eggnog?” — Straight No Chaser
A comedic masterpiece.
It’s part holiday party, part murder-mystery spoof, part “please don’t let this be HR’s problem.”
- It’s goofy.
- It’s catchy.
- It’s basically the movie Clue, but with more dairy alcohol.
Every time this plays, I turn into my own one-person karaoke bar.
Easily the funniest Christmas song on my playlist — and forever my #1
Holly Jolly Hype Tracks
These are the songs that don’t ask for permission — they just kick the door down, plug into the aux, and instantly crank the holiday serotonin levels.
They’re upbeat.
They’re fun.
They’re dance-in-the-kitchen, sing-in-the-car, smile-at-strangers level Christmas bops.
Here are my Top Five Holly Jolly Hype Tracks:
#5 — “Crazy for Christmas” — Lindsey Stirling
I may not be fully “crazy for Christmas” right now…
but I’m getting there.
And Lindsey Stirling?
She helps. Every time.
Her violin energy is infectious, her vibe is joyful, and yes — she’s an absolute cutie onstage.
This one always nudges my mood a little higher.
#4 — “Christmas the Whole Year Round” — Sabrina Carpenter
This was the very first song I ever heard from Sabrina Carpenter — and it hit me right between the ears in the best way.
The chorus hooked me so hard I even named a library-themed geocache after it.
(Yes, I’m that guy. No regrets.)
Bright, crisp, and endlessly replayable.
#3 — “Underneath the Tree” — Kelly Clarkson
This one snuck up on me… hard.
Kelly’s Christmas album wasn’t just another round of the same 14 songs covered for the trillionth time (BARF).
She gave us originals — and this one?
Toe-tapping.
Jolly.
Pure festive dopamine.
A modern classic without even trying to be.
#2 — “All I Want for Christmas Is You” — Mariah Carey
Look. I know. I know! Half the world loves hating this song like it’s a competitive sport. But here’s the thing:
I first heard it via Love, Actually — sung by a kid in a school pageant.
Not by Mariah.
Not blasting from retail speakers.
Not looping in a grocery store while people fight over cranberry sauce.
So I don’t have the retail-worker PTSD most people do.
I play it when I want to, and honestly?
It still goes hard.
#1 — “Every Day Is Christmas” — Straight No Chaser feat. Colbie Caillat
If any song on my playlist feels like a lyric sheet written about Jen and me…
it’s this one.
*January always brought me down
All the magic of December’s like a circus leaving town…To wake up every morning with a present in my bed—
That’s how I’ve been feeling since the moment we first met.*
It’s sweet without being saccharine.
Warm without being heavy.
And it perfectly captures the shift from “Christmas is complicated” to “Christmas looks different now — in a good way.”
A no-brainer #1.
Yet, despite all those reasons for the season … I only spin them during December.
🔕 Micro-Rant: The Songs I Insta-Skip
Look, I’m a DJ.
I love Christmas music.
But even I have limits… and December is too short to waste on songs that instantly activate my “Nope” reflex.
Here are the ones that go SKIP → NEXT TRACK before they even hit the two-second mark:
• “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” — The Ronettes
Cute? Sure.
Classic? Technically.
Annoying? Absolutely.
I don’t need Freudian Christmas confusion in my playlist. Be gone.
• “Little Drummer Boy” — Any Version Ever
Full stop.
Full pass.
Too hymnal. Too solemn.
Too much “pa rum pum pum pum,”
not enough serotonin.
• “Santa Baby”
I get it.
We all get it.
But no amount of purring, cooing, or seductive holiday whispering will keep this on my playlist.
Hard pass.
• “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer”
Straight to jail.
Do not pass Go.
Do not collect $200.
I said what I said.
• The 14-Minute Pentatonix Version of Anything
Respect to the craft.
Respect to the talent.
Respect to the vocal stamina.
But I’m not trying to watch The Snyder Cut of a cappella Christmas music.
• And No… I Don’t Skip Mariah
And no shade to Mariah Carey — zero, none, ABSOLUTELY NOT.
I’m Filipino. Skipping Mariah during the holidays is basically cultural treason.
I don’t shop in-store much, so I’m not overly-stimulated. I control my own Mariah dosage like a responsible December adult.
The Sixth Love Language
Back in late May of 2024, Jen casually asked me what my love language was.
She didn’t realize she was walking straight into a Carlos Bayne Origin Story, because I’m constitutionally incapable of giving a direct, three-word answer. I answer questions like a grandpa who’s seen some things — with a whole narrative arc.
She listed the five official languages for me, like a teacher checking boxes:
- Words of Affirmation
- Acts of Service
- Quality Time
- Physical Touch
- Receiving Gifts
I cleared my throat like I was about to deliver the State of the Union and said,
“Well, humans aren’t black and white. No one is 100% anything. So I’d say…
10% Acts of Service,
10% Quality Time,
25% Words of Affirmation,
15% Physical Touch,
and 5% Receiving Gifts.”
Jen blinked.
“You’re missing 35%, Los.”
“I’m not,” I said. “The remaining 35% is for my sixth love language — the one I created — because I prefer it more than any of the others.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”
I lit up like someone plugged me into a USB port. “Music and Lyrics.”
That was the moment everything clicked: songs aren’t background noise for me — they’re meaning.
They’re mood.
They’re memory.
They’re the emotional Uno cards I play without even realizing it.
Music is my sixth love language because:
- Songs are time machines. One note and I’m back in ’97 or 2022 or last Tuesday.
- They’re story triggers. The right lyric can pull a whole memory out of storage.
- They’re pressure valves. Sometimes you don’t need to talk — you just need a playlist.
And Christmas music? Oh, that’s the deluxe edition of this love language. It’s nostalgia wrapped in melody. It’s joy with a side of ache. It’s magic mixed with memory. It’s chaos set to a beat.
A December playlist is basically a snow globe of emotions — shake it once and everything swirls: the movies, the traditions, the heartbreaks, the healing, the people we miss, the people we gain, the versions of ourselves we’ve been.
Which is exactly why Mistletoe, Mixes & Memories finally had to happen.
A December Night of Lights & Loud Guitars
My friend Cindy Buckingham has always known that Christmas and I have a complicated relationship — especially because of the shadow that losing my mother cast over the season. She’s one of the few who can hold that truth without making it weird or heavy.
So one year, when Trans-Siberian Orchestra was absolutely everywhere — “Wizards of Winter” firing off on every radio station, every commercial, every playlist — she invited me to go with her.
Her daughter didn’t want to go. None of her other friends were into it. And frankly?
I was the “best fit” — someone she could enjoy a night of lights, spectacle, and borderline-insane guitar solos with, without worrying about drama or emotional landmines.
So off we went.
The moment the show started, it felt like stepping into another world:
- Lights whipping across the arena like laser-trained reindeer
- Guitars shredding so hard they could melt a candy cane
- Christmas meets rock opera meets sensory overload
- Orchestral crescendos that made the air vibrate
The stage erupted into this beautiful, electrified madness — flamethrowers, violins, choirs, pyrotechnics, and enough fog to hide a small village. It wasn’t just a concert; it was a lightning storm wrapped in tinsel.
And in the middle of all of it? Cindy and I, two friends sharing one of the most unexpectedly magical Christmas memories I’ve ever had.
No heaviness. No sadness. Just music doing what music always does for me — cutting straight through the noise and reminding me that December can surprise you.
And yes — before you ask — I’ve been to The Nutcracker. More than once.
Bah. Humbug.
No offense, ballet fans… but it’s just not my beat.
A Warm Bow
So this year, I’m reclaiming the soundtrack. I’m letting the songs I love — the ones that raise goosebumps, spark memories, or just flat-out make me grin — take center stage for once.
Because Christmas isn’t just trees, lights, and wrapping paper. It’s the music that slips into the cracks of the month and fills them with something human. Something hopeful. Something honest. Something that feels like home.
And if you happen to catch me humming in the aisles at Costco… don’t mind me. You’re just hearing my Sixth Love Language in action.
los, Fil-Am Renaissance Man 