Look, we’ve got to start with something fairly bleak if we want to build to a satisfyingly joyful crescendo. And it could’ve been worse: I can make a strong case for Leonard Cohen’s Famous Blue Raincoat being a Christmas song. LCD Soundsystem’s frontman accurately described this as a “depressing Christmas song” that had been rattling around in his head for years before he released it. Thanks for sharing, James.

The morose tones of Paul Young… the bizarre assertion that the people of Ethiopia have no idea it’s Christmas (despite being, as one exasperated Spotify employee helpfully pointed out recently in a series of annotations, “one of the oldest Christian nations in the world”)… and “the clanging chimes of doom”.

Yeah, I get that a lot of people love this song, but it’s not sparking any joy in me whatsoever. Bottom of the pile for you, Bob Geldof and pals.

Look, I get that this song has a beautiful underlying meaning – but John doesn’t really sound like he hopes I’ll have fun. He seems to be hinting at the fact that I’ve achieved very little over the past 12 months and I need to get my act together if I want to put an end to war. And that’s a lot of pressure, John.

All I want to do right now is eat cheese, read terrible cracker jokes, hug my loved ones and forget about the drudgery of reality for a little while. Is that so much to ask?

Someone’s had a rough year. It’s catchy, but it’s not exactly moving the needle forward on the joyometer (You should know that I died slow / Running through the halls of your haunted home, Jack sings without a hint of jubilance). My overriding thought after hearing it was, ‘I wonder if The National have written a Christmas song.’ Well, they don’t need to now.

Every year, we have the same debate about this song. But, whether you agree with the BBC’s decision to play an edited version of Fairytale Of New York (without the controversial slur) or not, you can’t deny that this is a song about being down on your luck, desperate and drunkenly shouting at your soon-to-be-ex on a cold winter’s night.

So, yeah… it’s a bit like a musical version of an EastEnders Christmas special in that regard. Go figure.

The horns are so jaunty, but it’s yet more war and misery. I’m sorry you’re not home for Christmas, Jona, but please don’t bring me down.

It’s pretty joyful, sure – and nobody can accuse Elvis of creating anything less than a toe-tapper with this one. But if the man can only be bothered to name two of Santa’s reindeer, then I’m thinking his heart isn’t in it. And I need a whole lotta heart with my festive music, damn it. 

I’m into this. It makes me feel nostalgic for the Christmases I’ve never had, the kind with snowflakes kissing at the window and chestnuts roasting on an open fire – all that jazz. Nice jumper, too.

Leona has the voice of an angel, and this festive ditty, which sums up the true magic of the holiday (being with the people you love most), is a lot of fun to warble along to. Doing so, though, reminds me that I do not have the voice of an angel. And that sprinkles just the teeniest bit of despair all over my heart, to be honest.

All together now: one more sleeeeeeeeep…

Eartha Kitt is a goddess. And this song is wonderful. But, as I mentioned mere moments ago, the yachts, the credit cards and the diamonds aren’t what makes Christmas special; it’s the people you surround yourself with.

Also, has Santa ever brought anyone else the deed to a platinum mine? Asking for a friend.

It’s nice enough, this one. But it gets just the tiniest, weeniest bit monotonous and droning after a while (ever tried to perform this one at karaoke? It goes on forever). As such, the joy peaks and then slowly saps away again until you’re left with nothing more than what you started with. Maybe less.

I like this one, but it will forever remain ominous thanks to its use in the Gremlins soundtrack. Honestly, whenever I hear it I am suddenly struck by an urge to grab a kitchen knife and check my Christmas tree for murderous critters… which isn’t that joyful an activity, if I’m honest. It’s not joyful at all.

If songs were dogs, this would be a bouncy golden retriever puppy. It’s boisterous, energetic and overwhelmingly happy. So why isn’t it higher up on the list? Because it’s usually played around 2,500,067 times every December, and each time gets a little more grating. Which does nothing for my zen, quite frankly.

This is a Christmas staple, especially when the car is laden with presents and you’re off to see your family. Now, though, it just reminds me of that Christmas during lockdown when I couldn’t drive home to see my mum. As such, it’s lost a few joy points. So sue me.

Stylist contributor Katy Harrington insists this song should take the top spot. And, to be fair, she makes a good case for it: it’s exuberant, joyful and it’s heavy on the magic (It’s the time when every Santa has a ball / Does he ride a red-nosed reindeer? / Does a turn upon his sleigh? / Do the fairies keep him sober for a day?). 

José wants to wish us a merry Christmas from the bottom of his heart, and I’m into it – even if the lyrics do get a little repetitive after a while.

There’s a reason this song has been used in so many Christmas films. Don’t believe me? Just those first seven seconds will have you swaying in your seat and dreaming of New York in the snow. If that doesn’t do it, Andy Williams’s powerhouse vocals and cheery observations about the ‘happiest season of all’ should. And, if you’re still not there, take note of the fact that the backing singers are just belting out the words ‘Ding dong, ding dong’ over and over again, and voila! Merriment is yours.

Right from the very first ‘chestnuts roasting on an open fire’, this song is absolutely enchanting. And it reminds us, too, to take the time to relax over Christmas and slow the fuck down – which is a very important message, quite frankly.

My boss loves this Elton John banger, so naturally, it had to come somewhere near the top. Ignoring my ass-kissing antics, though, it truly is a lot of fun. The kind of fun that comes hand-in-hand with mulled wine, karaoke and office Christmas parties. The kind that makes us want to step into Christmas forever and ever and ever.

As you may have guessed by now, I’m a traditionalist. But this timeless tune is the very definition of jolly, and I won’t be told otherwise. 

Fun fact: I love Gremlins to little pieces, and this song scores the film’s snowy opening. Setting that aside, though, Darlene Love’s soaring vocals and evocative imagery make us all imagine we’re living the sort of 25 December that appears on Christmas cards. And that, my friends, is a surefire route to happiness. 

Because this is the mistletoe jam, quite frankly. Fair warning, though: it might make you want to kiss somebody.

This is probably a clever riff on the commercialisation of Christmas, but it has fairground-style synths, joyous hand claps and the relentlessly bouncy energy makes it very hard not to side with Santa as he defends the hand he’s been dealt in life: Is it a crime to give a little once in awhile / I travel round the world trying to make people smile. 

An underrated classic? Absolutely. But I consider this banger to be more zen than joyful, which means it’s more likely to become the star of my Christmas yoga session than my sing-into-the-hairbrush-microphone moment.

Sia loves her snowman. But time is fleeting, the sun is warm and she worries that a puddle of water won’t be able to hold her close in the same way as her snowman can, baby. It’s lovely, but we’re not convinced there’s happy ending to be had here.

Sure, it’s a rogue choice, but have you heard this one yet?

Reportedly based on a German drinking game, this is one for all those who like the style of Fairytale Of New York but aren’t keen on the way it makes them feel in their hearts and souls.

Because who could ever feel mad, sad or blue when belting out the words: Who’s got a beard that’s long and white? Santa’s got a beard that’s long and white. Good, right?

This glam rock song has it all: innuendos aplenty, tubular bells, insane guitar riffs, gently jingling bells and the sweet vocals of a children’s choir. Better still, it sums up the reality of Christmas for all of us (Feigning joy and surprise at the gifts we despise / over mulled wine with you) without losing any of that fabulously OTT festive magic in the process.

St Etienne are essentially the closest equivalent Britain has to Abba (another band that surely missed a trick by not blessing us with a Christmas song) – perfect pop that instantly makes you want to perform a synchronised dance with your mates while wearing glittery eyeshadow. Add to that some festive lyrics and backing vocals from Tim Burgess from The Charlatans and you have a near-perfect Christmas song that’s not too schmaltzy and never grows old.

A song that sounds like it’s been around forever, but it’s relatively recent (2018) and still a bit under the radar, so it hasn’t already been played to death. It ticks off everything you’d want from a Christmas song: bells, harmonised vocals, joyous energy, a catchy chorus and a cheerfully hopeful message that, yes, next year will be better.

To be perfectly honest, Stevie Wonder could sing pretty much anything and make it sound good – and this, this underrated Christmas ditty, sounds really bloody good. Candles burning low, lots of mistletoe and a reminder that Christmas is always about the mood more than the gifts. And the smiling faces of the people we love the most. 

The only song on any Christmas list ever that doesn’t make my eyes roll to the very depths of my skull if I hear it played before 1 December. For that reason alone, it shoots straight into the top 10.

Sure, Paul McCartney’s version is fine and all, but Diana Ross’s voice is among the loveliest ever recorded, and that – combined with its old fashion sleighbells – makes this a magical Christmas number.

Gwen Stefani and Blake Shelton began dating in 2015 after bonding over their divorces, and I love their friends-to-lovers energy – especially when they channel it into a Christmas ditty as fun as this one. This duet always makes it feel like Christmas.

The holy triumvirate that is Destiny’s Child is well and truly riding the wave of that lovely 00s nostalgia. And that’s largely due to all the diamond belly rings, back rubs and dirty denim jeans they’ve been gifted, obviously. No wonder it’s a Team Stylist favourite.

Ariana Grande’s Christmas ditty is an absolute bop. That’s it. That’s all I have to say.

“You can call it saccharine, you can even call it basic,” says Amy Beecham, Stylist’s senior features writer, “but you cannot deny the lightness and joy that the first few bars of Christmas Tree Farm ignites. All about wanting every day to feel like the magic of Christmas, it’s romantic, silly, semi-autobiographical (Swift herself grew up on such a farm in Pennsylvania,) and leaves you with the kind of earworm that you’ll be humming all day long: what more could you ask from a festive tune?”

George Michael’s Christmassy tale of lost love and heartache feels happy enough, thanks to that nifty 80s beat. Its attachment to the film of the same name (yeah, the one with the twist) and George’s sad passing, though, means it’s not as happy a ditty for me as it once was. I’m sorry.

A song that glances sideways at The Darkness’s innuendo and euphemism-laden Christmas effort and says, ‘I’ll see you and raise you.’ Glorious festive filth, and the idea that generations of family members will settle down after Christmas dinner to watch Sabrina reflect on someone’s “huge North Pole” during her Netflix special is surely enough to fill even the biggest Grinch with glad tidings.

Perhaps controversially, Mariah doesn’t sit at the top of this list, and that’s largely because, whenever I’ve been single, this gorgeously romantic song has poked at my heart like a sharp stick. Tell me I’m not the only one, please.

I may be a traditionalist, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate contemporary music. And I appreciate the hell outta this number from the goddess that is Kelly Clarkson.

Let’s take a moment to bask in the magic, shall we?

Used in countless Christmas films (most recently, Netflix’s The Princess Switch: Switched Again) since its release in 2013, this song is synonymous with joy, festive feels and love. The kind of love that makes you think of family, friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives and everyone in between.

It has sleigh bells. It has impossibly fun lyrics. It bounces. It speaks to everything we love about the holidays, and it does it all with Clarkson’s inimitable vocals, too.

It’s my ultimate Christmas song, essentially. And if it doesn’t spark joy in you, then you need to do a Grinch and grow your heart by two sizes, OK? Don’t @ me.