Back in 2014, over forty years after the last time any sort of Jazz ensemble even whiffed the mainstream^[1]Either Cannonball Adderley’s “Mercy Mercy Mercy,” Miles Davis’s “Bitches Brew,” or Herbie Hancock’s “Headhunters,” depending on what you even count as Jazz anymore, a busking trio out of New York City calling themselves Too Many Zooz had an iphone video go viral (back when “going viral” was something that actually happened organically via real human beings sharing links with their friends of their own freewill and choice, not by any sort of algorithmic fiat), of them performing a high-energy jam of their own composition in a Manhattan subway station.

Several million views later, and Too Many Zooz was not only booking shows at clubs and festivals across the country, but were even invited on stage to perform with Beyoncé and the Dixie Chicks at the 2016 CMAs, of all things. Give them credit, the trio by all appearances knew full well that their moment in the sun would be brief (Jazz combos going viral in the 21st century will always be a fluke, not a feature), so they made the most of their 15 minutes while they still had it and released a quick flurry of bandcamp EPs^[2]F Note is my personal favorite, singles, videos, and of course a short Christmas album before the decade was out.

That viral moment is now long over; and in our present era of swarming bots and artificially goosed viewer numbers and LLMs and increasingly-proven Dead Internet theory, Too Many Zooz already feels like an artifact from a more innocent era. A quick Google search indicates that they are still touring today—in fact released a new album just last year—and have apparently carved out a comfortable little niche for themselves making the art they love^[3]oh, that we could all at least do that!; but they certainly aren’t performing with Beyoncé anymore.

Yet their one and only Christmas EP (all-too-optimistically entitled A Very Too Many Zooz Xmas, Vol. 1)^[4]Though they did also release the goofy-fun single “Funky Christmas” ft. Big Freedia in 2020. still gets fairly heavy rotation with me every December. Partly that is because hearing some genuinely fast-paced and sprightly Holiday tunes can be a nice break from all of the more mellow, mid-tempo fair of the season^[5]and you can only listen to Run-DMC and Bad Religion so many times; but also partly because the EP’s concluding number of “Oh Holy Night” has over the years grown on me to become one of my favorite renditions.

This site has discussed before how O Holy Night was originally an Abolitionist hymn; that all those who cut the third verse–“Chains shall he break for the slave is our brother/and in his name all oppressions shall cease”–were wrong (including the Tab Choir in the Priesthood-ban year of 1970), that all those who sang it out loud were right (including the Tab Choir in the post-Declaration-2 year of 1993). I have ever since become suspicious whenever someone performs the hymn without all of the original lyrics.

Yet Too Many Zooz doesn’t perform any of the original lyrics at all, but instead features a voice-over from the percussionist, David “King of Sludge” Parks, the sole Black member of the trio, reciting a brief poem of his own composition–one that still feels fully in tune with the sentiments of the original John Sullivan Dwight lyrics. “It’s Christmas Eve, and its hard for the kids to sleep,” he deadpans, all while trumpeter Matt Muirhead and saxophonist Leo Pellegrino drop the Jazz for just one minute to deliver a reverent, straightforward rendition of the hymn in the background. “Family all together/Time to wrap the presents, so don’t peak,” Parks continues, “Before we open them, we must eat/Pour a little liquor out/For those missing.” So far, so sentimental, fairly standard-issue; maybe trying a touch too hard to sound hard with the whole “Pour a little liquor out” line, but otherwise appropos of this sentimental season.

The temptation was likely high for them to perform some sort of playful deconstruction of the hymn, as they had just with the other four tracks on the EP; wisely however, Parks does the only thing you should do when you’re feeling sentimental and leans into the skid, making all those clichéd old feelings sound fresh again: “Remember the times when it was just you and me?” he asks his lover as their children go to bed, “Look at their faces as our family sleeps/Wake me up, don’t keep me waiting, it’s been all year/And I’ve been wanting to say it.”

And what is it that he feels was so important to wait till the kids asleep? “What’s in this box is a small part of what I feel/Nothing I could buy should be confused with what’s real” he declares, in the all-important reminder that for however commercialized the Christmas holiday has become for generations now, it is at heart an anti-commercial celebration, for it is the day when we are granted salvation without money and without price; like Christ’s Atonement itself, it is the one time of year when we accept a gift we could never pay for, offering only our own hearts in return.

Let us skip now to the finale and hear the end of it: “It’s Christmas, Hanukkah, and Kwanzaa,” he concludes, “and your presence is my gift this year.” It is how we should all conclude the season as well. This is the true Gospel of Freedom: to be free of not only literal chains, but materialistic ones too, and both are accomplished the same way–via the pure love of Christ, which we must ever show to each other if we are to be worthy of Him, without which we are nothing, for charity never faileth, for all things must fail–