I Recorded O Holy Night…And I Wasn’t In The Spirit

For many, this will be the first Christmas where it’s not about the presents, but rather the small grace of being with the people you love. For others, it may be your first Christmas alone – perhaps a little sad, a little hollow, like an empty seat at the dining table that will forever belong to a person you loved.

I’ve had plenty of weird and wonderful Christmases over the years, often embraced by friends and their families when I couldn’t make it home to my own. I’ve even willingly elected to spend some of them alone, channelling my inner Cindy Lou, singing: ” Where are you Christmas. Why can’t I find you?”

For some peculiar reason, I was asked to record “O Holy Night” this year. Am I religious? Am I in a celebratory mood? Am I looking forward to Christmas?

I don’t know the answer to any of these things.

I took a million takes until I broke down with pure resentment over the whole thing. Why am I doing this? I can’t wait for this year to be over. If there was a God, surely he wouldn’t have dealt us such a shitty 2020?

Yeah… I can’t answer that one either.

But I did have a small revelation, prompted by the lyrics of this song, written all the way back in the early 1800s, in the middle of the Industrial Revolution – Lord knows, those were hard times.

The part I’m referring to is:

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn’

Maybe, just maybe, that’s all we need right now. The hope of a new and glorious morning.

You don’t have to be religious to wish for better things, to believe that they will come, to hope that goodness, kindness, and honesty will prevail.

It’s the nature of all things. We go through dark times, and if we’re strong enough, in our hearts and our heads, we continue to hope that something better is around the corner.

That’s all I wish for you.