Okay, let’s tumble into Apryll Aileen’s “Under My Tree,” shall we? It’s not your grandma’s sleigh-bell jingler, not by a long shot. Aileen, this classically-trained pianist, decides to cloak herself in a Christmas-themed R&B haze, like wrapping a finely-made watch in soft flannel. It’s the kind of thing that makes you tilt your head.
The song feels like staring at a snow globe, the tiny figures moving in a melancholic waltz. The core is simple: longing. A kind of deep ache for that certain person when the fairy lights are twinkling, and everyone else is getting a hug except you. Aileen paints with a gentle hand, not in bold strokes, but the feeling sneaks in. There’s that odd moment where I felt a kinship with a single dandelion in winter – unexpected, I know, but music has that strange power, hasn’t it? It doesn’t scream “Merry Christmas!”, it mutters it like a shared secret.
There is, dare I say, a lovely sort of loneliness woven in here. It’s not depressing. It’s… present. Like the quiet between raindrops or the feeling of an empty train car. Love, the song suggests, isn’t found under the glittering bows; it’s the greatest, most needed gift itself. Sometimes that makes all the difference. It’s also a little odd, isn’t it? The way a single feeling, this specific ache, can make sense of a season often stuffed with a different kind of merriment. Reminds me of that time I tried to build a Lego castle, only to find I only had wheels. Random, I know, but this song feels random in the same, slightly beautiful way.
“Under My Tree” asks, perhaps unknowingly, what the true shape of longing looks like. It hints, it meanders. It’s a feeling translated, a whispered longing in a major key, and now you’re left wondering if love, in all its messy splendor, might be the true miracle of the season after all.
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