Okay, let’s pretend the universe coughed up “All the Christmas Lights.” Not literally, of course, though I did find a sparkly rock in my pocket this morning – probably unrelated. This single by Eric Harmsen, straight outta Alpine, manages to feel both like a familiar, cozy sweater and a strangely uncharted territory.

The music… it’s less jingle bell rock and more like a snow globe gently shaken. You’re inside now, with that swirling sense of peace, but also a touch of beautiful, elegant chaos. It’s all orchestral, sure, and I might as well be sitting on a cloud made of cellos and chimes. This isn’t mere holiday music; it’s the quiet moment after the chaos, when you finally notice the individual lights twinkling with intention. A bit like a well-lit painting, actually. Think less Monet’s haystack and more an Ansel Adams landscape in a soft winter glow. Random, I know.

The message, or the feel, is deeply connected to togetherness, sure. But not that forced, shiny togetherness we’ve all felt the awkward pressure of at family gatherings. This is the kind that just is. Like how a single falling leaf might join a pile, each separate but contributing to something bigger. It’s personal peace writ large. I wonder if Eric owns a very loud cat that is secretly a music critic. It makes just as much sense as anything else these days.

It’s the sort of composition that asks you, quietly, to connect with something beyond the glittery surface. You could say it’s about mindfulness if you wanted to, but really, it’s about that moment of breath before or after the main event. That fleeting quiet moment where, for a second, all is just…there. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe that rock in my pocket needs closer examination. Did it just wink?

Follow Eric Harmsen on Website and YouTube.