When I hit play on the Deemon Diamonds Community Choir and their latest offering “Now Christmas Can Begin”, I wasn’t expecting the sudden urge to check the locks on my front door—not out of fear, but out of a latent, dusty anticipation I haven’t felt since I was six years old.
This collective from Barrow-in-Furness has constructed something curious here. Musically, it is a blanket of sound—orchestral and classical in structure, yet woven with the loose, welcoming thread of easy listening. It lacks the sanitized, high-gloss sheen of commercial studio choirs, thank goodness. Instead, led by vocalist Ailsa McIntosh, the sound carries the specific, humid warmth of a village hall in mid-December. It reminds me of the smell of drying wool coats and static electricity.
The narrative arc is surprisingly tense for a relaxation track. We are dealing with the conditional nature of joy. The lyrics suggest that the entire apparatus of the festive season—the tinsel, the turkey, the tree—is void, mere stage dressing, until a specific traveler crosses the threshold. It’s a high-stakes emotional gamble.
When the invocation of Saint Christopher arrives, urging protection for the journey, my mind made a sudden, sharp left turn to a painting I once saw of a ship navigating a storm in a tea cup. That’s the scale here: a massive, tempestuous emotion contained within the delicate china of a choral arrangement. The relief expressed in the music when the journey concludes is palpable; it’s the sonic equivalent of finally exhaling after holding your breath for three hundred miles of icy motorway.
Knowing this release supports Cruse Bereavement Support adds a sobering counterweight to the harmonies. The insistence on the “safe return” underscores the fragility of our gatherings. It frames the reunion not as a guarantee, but as a small miracle to be hoarded.
Does the music insist on grandeur? No. It insists on presence.
“Now Christmas Can Begin” manages to articulate that specific silence that falls right before a front door opens. In a world of loud, demanding holiday anthems, do we actually prefer the waiting to the arrival?
