Beyond Wham! and Elton, Guardian writers from across the generations select the songs that conjure the personal magic and memories of the season
I’m always fascinated by the ways in which my generation manage to participate in the circulation of music. Amateur TikTok edits resurrect forgotten gems and turn obscure starlets into sensations; home producers fabricate entire albums if their favourite rapper doesn’t release enough. Such is the case with Doom Xmas, the brainchild of Grammy-winning Spanish producer Cookin’ Soul, which refashions the work of late cult rapper MF Doom into Christmas music. There are filthy Grinch soundtrack flips, hectic Latin Christmas skits and a chopped-and-screwed Nat King Cole that’ll change the way you hear The Christmas Song.
It’s an internet cult classic. Every Christmas, a carolling cohort of underground rap fans make their way to the comment sections to write something like: “They playin’ Mariah already, I’m blastin’ Doom!” And although it’s bootlegged, the tape has a strangely festive air: it’s a hit of humanity in the wake of an AI music slopticon, and a reminder that community clings on, especially at Christmas. Archie Forde
The one constant in all my core Christmas memories is Mariah Carey. The earliest is from when we were stuck in traffic, and I was too tiny to see anything through the car windows except kaleidoscopic lights above. Through the radio, Carey is belting out Santa Claus Is Coming to Town – far more exciting than my nursery’s version of Away in a Manger. Years later, I’m back in a car – this time with a friend who’s just passed his driving test. We spend lunchtime cruising around the residential streets near our sixth form, windows down, blasting All I Want for Christmas Is You. That evening, his mum receives an email from school warning that her son “should stop trying to impress girls”. (He’s gay.) And then there’s decorating the Christmas tree with my now-husband for the first time. Carey’s hip-hop-ified version Here Comes Santa Claus was playing; he teased me for only listening to “funky” Christmas songs. What did he expect, the Pogues? It’s been my go-to ever since. Olive Pometsey
