Clarence Carter was a lot of things, but subtle? Pfft! And Back Door Santa does not pretend otherwise.
Released in 1968, this song plants a grin on its face and never removes it. Either that or a joyous amount of facepalming. Maybe both.
On the surface, we’re simply listening to some funky Southern soul Christmas novelty.
Underneath, it is a master class in double entendre so brash and unmitigated, it barely qualifies as “double.” Carter delivers the whole thing with a wink, a bounce, and the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he’s saying. And how far to go too far.
The premise of Back Door Santa reeks of cheeky simplicity. This Santa ain’t gonna come down the chimney. I mean, not yet (!). He comes early, he comes often, and he prefers entrances that avoid notice. When Carter tells us that old Saint Nick only comes once a year while he comes whenever he is called, the metaphor isn’t exactly shouldering the burden of Atlas here.
Instead, Carter is positioning himself as the man who shows up while others are absent. The children are out to play because he’s distracted them with cash. And of course, boyfriends and husbands are elsewhere entirely. This Santa thrives in the gaps created by inattention.
Musically, the groove seals the deal. The beat slides instead of stomps. The rhythm section struts. Carter’s vocal delivery is bold, conversational, and oozing with schmucky likability. He never oversells the punchlines. He lets the band do the work and trusts the listener to hear exactly what is being suggested.
And yes, that is the groove that Run DMC sampled for Christmas in Hollis. Can you blame them?
The result is a Christmas song that feels mischievous rather than obscene. We’re talking old-fashioned naughtiness that’s playful, brazen, maybe even a little scandalous. The kind of track that makes you laugh first and then shake your head at how ridiculously it got away with everything it just said.
Back Door Santa endures because it understands the easiest way to get away with dirty jokes is allowing the audience do most the work. Ho ho ho indeed!
Mills
A South Florida native and part-time iguana, Mills has slaved in the mine-pits of Information Technology since 1995, finding solace in writing about the things he loves like music, fitness, movies, theme parks, gaming, and Norwegian Hammer Prancing. He has written and published hundreds (thousands?) of reviews since 2000, because Geeking Out over your obsessions is the Cosmic Order Of Things. He is, at heart, a 6'3 freewheeling Aquarius forever constrained by delusions of adequacy.