It’s like worrying about whether to eat a slightly out of date digestive biscuit at teatime when you ate partially defrosted 1999 vintage raw chicken for lunch.
Oh yeah, there are definitely much worse xmas songs, I personally hold a particularly virulent loathing for that horrible Macca dirge Wonderful Xmastime or whatever it’s called. It’s much worse, definitely.
But the Slade number is so inescapable, so pervasive, and so irritatingly bloody cheerful. I’ve heard it so many, many times now that it makes me want to kill someone. It has to be the ultimate, definitive, most crashingly obvious dreadful xmas pop song out there. If you were going to put together Now That’s What I Call **** Awful Xmas Music, Slade would have to be the first track on there, wouldn’t it?
To extend your analogy, one slightly out of date biscuit wouldn’t be a big deal, no, but That Slade Song is like the entire nation being force-fed stale biscuits by every bloody supermarket manager in the UK for a whole month. Ugh.