Gather round the fire, kids, let’s roast some chestnuts and let Uncle Mojo tell you a story: Back in 1990, he was a blithely ignorant intern at Billboard, so happy to get any byline in the rag that he joyously accepted the retail section’s “Christmas in July” preview so all the purchasing pros out there in subscriberland could decide which holiday CDs would be featured on their shelves.

That was a job for suckers, he soon found out. There is nothing worse than country and rock holiday piffle—except having to hear the garbage in July. Just like Janis had her man take another little piece of her heart, this so-called music took another little piece of your sanity away with each successive play. Don’t believe me? Just keep watching Popdose after Thanksgiving. The semisane people among the ranks have already packed their bags and headed for the hills as you read this. Mojo’s about out the door hisself. You won’t believe who’s left behind and what they’re planning on doing.

Anyway, back to the story. Flash-forward two summers: Using his Billboard clips to hook-and-crook his way into an editor’s job for a thin, biweekly newspaper tab catering to indie record stores that ran on apparently a thinner shoestring than the actual stores themselves (but paid more than Billboard, which was still about on par with Burger King, by the way), Uncle Mojo got branded as “The Christmas Music Expert.” For several consecutive Julys, he was forced to listen to “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” and “Let It Snow” rendered in Irish Folk, dumb contemporary country, old Jass, new wave, acoustic folk, glass harmonica, undignified blues, sweet harp, dirty bass clarinet, dogs barking, people farting, theremins wheezing, and who can ever forget the insidious Dr. Elmo and his homicidal reindeer?

It chapped more than Uncle Mojo’s lips. (more…)