2007 marks the 10th anniversary of the worst Christmas album ever made. You’re probably thinking “That’s a pretty bold statement” but trust me, if you’ve ever heard Matt Rogers’ Rated X Mas album, you’d agree that there isn’t a single Christmas album in the history of recorded music as bad as this one.
Before you actively start looking for Rated X Mas, you need to understand that you can no longer get it. On December 22, 2000, the distributor of the album agreed to settle a copyright infringement action by destroying all remaining copies of it and banning any future sales of the album. You could probably find a copy on Ebay, but why would you want to? The only shame greater than owning Rated X Mas is paying dime for it, particularly under the guise that it’s somehow a collectors item.
With a running time of less than twenty minutes, Rated X Mas is eight songs of pornographic nonsense that’s completely unnecessary. It speaks volumes towards what has gone wrong with the holidays as it selfishly serves the pocketbook of the album’s creators who haphazardly toss around the idea that Rated X Mas is nothing more than a comedic parody effort.
The eyes of the law disagreed with that argument, and my complaint with the album has nothing to do with whether it’s a work of parody or not. My major complaint is how Rated X Mas is based entirely on the notion that someone, a real-life person with a working brain, considered all possibilities of making money and chose to pursue one that replaces the words of Christmas classics with moronic sex fantasies.
The “brain” here is Matt Rogers, who promises on the album’s cover “Christmas songs NOT for the entire family!!!” It should have read “Christmas songs NOT fit for human consumption.” The music sounds like it was created with a commercially available keyboard pre-programmed with songs like “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town” and “Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer.” Armed with his Casio, Rogers’ shtick consists of changing the lyrics of these well-known Christmas tunes into raunchy and stupid renditions. At the risk of sounding like a prude, let me declare that even the most socially inept 14-year old that masturbates four times a day would not consider these renditions clever or funny. Anyone else would probably react as I did upon first listen: with a violent fervor that feels the court ruling was too lenient and that Mr. Rogers deserved a harsher sentence than the one handed down.
“Rudolph” is changed into “Rudolph The Deep Throat Reindeer,” where the familiar red-nosed reindeer manages to make the other reindeer jealous because he gives Santa blowjobs and allows him to have anal sex with him. And what’s turned Santa into a zoophile? The only explanation given is because Ms. Claus “is on the rag.” The song is complete with the sound effects of these acts with the role of Rudolph being played by the most juvenile homosexual stereotype imaginable. The rest of the song’s verses are sung by an uncredited female who also makes an appearance on “Frosty The Pervert” and “Drunken Santa’s Coming To Town.”
The pinnacle of the disc is “Suck On My Cock,” sung to the melody of “Jingle Bell Rock.” It provides the listener with detailed instructions on how to properly give a blowjob (“Start licking and slurping / My dick will get firm / Soon you’ll be tasting sperm”). The strange thing is, when you get to the line “don’t go ripping out my pubic hair,” you begin to wonder if Mr. Rogers has ever even received a blowjob himself. In all of my years of oral sex, I never experienced an incident where my pubic hair was pulled out during the act.
Equally troubling is “I Love To Choke My Chicken With My Hand” (sung to “Winter Wonderland”) where Rogers’ admires his ejaculate and then starts, literally, screaming about how his sister offered to blow him if he reciprocates. He continues to rant about how he can jerk off with both hands and how he wants to masturbate continuously.
So how did I come into possession of such an unwanted Christmas artifact? Radio stations received promotional copies of this disc, which is itself a completely stupid move as none of the songs could even be aired on terrestrial radio due to the lyrics.
Nonetheless, a friend of mine who worked for a station that received a few copies was so enraged at the material that he played it for me. On every song, he angrily shouted “It’s Christmas!” while I sat in silent amazement that society had reached a low point where no one intervened during the manufacturing process to put a stop to this nonsense.
I asked him if he could get me a copy.
It was a year or two later when I read that Matt Rogers’ had gotten into a bit of trouble with Rated X Mas. He and the production team responsible for the album apparently neglected to secure the rights to the songs they were raping and, as a result, the songwriters of some of the best-known Christmas classics were not happy. The motivation behind their complaint was surely for economic reasons, but I’m equally positive that the reason for such a quick settlement was because Matt Rogers and his production company, Party On Parody Productions, knew that their actions were morally reprehensible. How does one adequately defend themselves against a song like “I Saw Mommy Fucking Santa Claus?”
And really, how do I defend myself for retaining a copy of Rated X Mas? I can’t really; I can only offer a suggestion at how I keep it as a reminder that there is something worse than Jingle Cats‘ Meowy Christmas or Kenny G’s Miracles: The Holiday Album.
Thankfully, even if that’s a hard thing to believe, at least the legal system has taken the necessary steps to prevent you from finding out this fact on your own.
The Smoking Gun has the court documents (including lyrics).
MP3: Matt Rogers – “I Love to Choke My Chicken with My Hand” (courtesy of Just fucking Google it…)