Dear Santa Claus: Look here, you sneaky old man, I dunno what you’re trying to pull here. We both know that whole naughty/nice list thing hasn’t worked since I was, what, four? I’ve been tilting toward “naughty” for far too long to be easily swayed by most any tactic, but blindsiding me IN MARCH with a record by one of my favorite bands of all time that can be remotely considered “good” is low, even for you, round-boy. I’d all but given up hope for mankind when I put this on and WHAM, “Wish I Never Loved You” gave me a giddy, inspired feeling I haven’t felt in ages from a Buzzcocks record. Thirteen more songs and eighty-seven repeated listens in a two-day period later, I’m singing along again with Pete and Steve like in days of yore, happy as a clam and feeling like the universe has once again righted itself. Worse, I went back and listened to the previous release and decided THAT one was better than previously assessed. But, BUT I’m no dummy, Kringle. I’ve sussed your little maneuver—you think by giving me my most cherished Christmas present nine months early, I’m gonna straighten up and fly right now and this Christmas I won’t dress up your reindeer like mariachis again. You are a wicked bird, Santa Claus. Pull this stunt again and I just might hafta admit the error of my ways, and lord knows we can’t have that.
–jimmy (Cooking Vinyl)