It was the last track on the I Love Rock & Roll album. Helluva capper.

Nat King Cole was a saint. That song turned him into a sinner.

Read the rest of the thread.

Nope. Another one that was cool the first couple of hundred times, but which has lost its savour in the thousand times since.

Counterpoint:

How do you know that I am not already Sam Kieth’s burner? Especially since I know how to spell the name?

Good luck with that. I will be spending all my disposable income next year paying for my middle class tax cut.

I have worked in and around retail for my entire adult life, starting in retail stores and now selling to retail stores. More than three decades of not being able to escape Christmas music for months. I was cynical to begin with. That has not helped.

Not even.

Not the Ramones’ finest hour.

Sorry, nope. Even the D.I. version with its sloppy Sid Vicious-esque vocals fails to redeem it.

He narrated, but no, Karloff was not a singer. But while Thurl Ravenscroft really does not sound like Karloff when you think about it, it is a testament to how well both of them were cast that they blend together as well as they do.

The first 3,174 times that I heard that song, I would have agreed with you. However, the 9,528 times that followed took some of the bloom off the rose.

I recanted and made an exception for Joan Jett. Sue me.