Robbie has dropped a Christmas album to rival Bublé’s, or so he thinks. Here’s what we reckon happened.
November 1st 2018. Halloween is over, the supermarkets are frantic. “Fuck bonfire night, get the tinsel up” say the seasonal aisles. Yankee candles get bigger and spicier overnight, advent calendars are seemingly everywhere, pumpkins have been replaced by boxes upon boxes of mince pies.
Having discovered approximately 3ml of milk left in the fridge, Robbie Williams strolls through the local Morrisons—sleepy, hungry, a little grumpy. With a four-pint of semi-skimmed in hand, he waltzes down to the tills, a smile now creeping over his face as he imagines the bucket of Bran Flakes waiting for him at home. Maybe he’ll spruce it up a bit, throw on some raisins, a lil chopped banana… Rob, mate, you’re a genius.
He turns back for the fruit, and the smile drops. He’s in the CD aisle where Little Mix and George Ezra’s albums sit alongside the A Star Is Born Soundtrack and NOW! 101, all primed to become Christmas stocking fillers. They all sit beneath the King of Christmas, however. Even the album cover is smug. Michael’s waiting at your doorstep with a smoulder that could melt the snow and a beautifully wrapped gift held behind his back: Michael Bublé’s Christmas stands supreme. Christmas CD shelves is Michael’s turf, and has been for years. No one spends November wondering when Robbie Williams is going to emerge from his cave, do they?
Robbie storms off in search of bananas, grumbling something about Canada and fake snow. “Bet there’s nothing in that present either, just a dressed-up box” he stops. Lightbulb moment.
Christmas Morning 2019. Santa’s been, and the kids are running riot. There’s LEGO all over the floor, hidden under leaves of wrapping paper to make for a very risky trip to the kitchen. Robbie and Ayda sit on the couch, gazing lovingly over the idyllic scene before them. He turns to her, beaming: “Can I give you your present now?” She nods, and he runs off downstairs. In the spare room stand countless towers of neatly wrapped CDs, each destined for an unsuspecting member of the Williams Family & Friends cohort. He selects one from the top and skips back up to his wife. Upon tearing it open, Ayda withholds a smirk as she finds a crisp new copy of The Christmas Present, by none other than the man grinning before her. She smiles, and thanks him with a peck on the cheek.
A few hours later, the turkey is in the oven and the rest of the cohort is on its way. Robbie—donning his finest Christmas jumper—is just as excited as the bairns, and pops the prosecco as Ayda moves to the stereo: “Shall we stick some music on?” He gleams. How lucky is he to have found such a beautiful, supportive life partner?
The CD goes in, the play button’s pressed—Robbie pours two glasses as the opening track creeps in, but he then stops. His hears the strings, but they’re not his strings. He looks at Ayda in disbelief as she comes over, takes a glass from the table and sips as the first line rolls out: “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…”
“Ooh,” she smiles sweetly, “a little bit of the bubbly!”