It starts with a frantic, wheezing hee-haw. You’re likely in a grocery store, or maybe stuck in traffic with the radio on, and suddenly a jingle-bell-heavy rhythm kicks in. Then comes the voice of Lou Monte. It’s 1960 all over again. If you grew up in an Italian-American household, or even just near one, the italian donkey christmas song—properly known as "Dominick the Donkey"—is more than just a novelty record. It’s a seasonal rite of passage. Honestly, it’s also one of the most polarizing three-minute stretches in the history of holiday music. People either scream-sing along to the "la-la-la-la-la" parts or they want to hide under a rug until the song ends.
There is no middle ground with Dominick.
But why does a song about a donkey that eats corn and dances the tarantella still dominate airwaves over sixty years after its release? It wasn't exactly a high-brow composition. It wasn't meant to be "White Christmas." It was a piece of ethnic novelty pop that somehow clawed its way into the permanent canon of Western holiday traditions. To understand why it works, you have to look at the guy behind the mic: Lou Monte.
The Man Behind the Hee-Haw
Lou Monte wasn't just some guy who got lucky with a joke song. He was a powerhouse in a very specific niche. Known as the "King of Italian Humor," Monte made a career out of blending Neapolitan dialect with 1950s American pop sensibilities. Before the italian donkey christmas song hit the charts, he was already famous for "Pepino the Italian Mouse" and "Lazy Mary" (Luna Mezzo Mare). He understood the specific immigrant experience: that weird, beautiful middle ground where you’re trying to be a "modern American" while your grandmother is still making sauce in the basement.
The song was released in 1960 on Rouletter Records. It was written by Ray Allen, Sam Saltzberg, and Wandra Merrell. Interestingly, the song didn't actually set the world on fire immediately. It did okay. It reached number 14 on the Billboard Bubbling Under Hot 100. It was a regional hit, mostly in places like New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut. For decades, it remained a "local" secret. It was the song your uncle played on a scratched 45 while the kids ran around the living room.
Then, the internet happened.
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A Viral Resurrection in the UK
The weirdest part of the italian donkey christmas song history isn't its origin; it's its comeback. In 2011, British radio host Chris Evans (the BBC Radio 2 one, not Captain America) started playing the song on his breakfast show. He became obsessed with it. He urged his listeners to buy it to get it to the "Christmas Number One" spot in the UK.
It didn't hit number one, but it reached number three on the UK Singles Chart. Over fifty years after it was recorded. Think about that. A song about a donkey from Italy, recorded by a guy from New Jersey during the Eisenhower administration, was suddenly outperforming modern pop stars in London. It proved that the song’s appeal isn't just about Italian heritage. It’s about the sheer, unadulterated absurdity of the track. It’s catchy. It’s annoying. It’s impossible to ignore.
Why a Donkey, Though?
The lyrics tell a very specific story. Santa Claus can’t get his sleigh up the steep hills of Italy. The reindeer can’t handle the terrain. So, enter Dominick. He’s the local hero. He’s "made in Italy."
- The Geography Factor: Italy is mountainous. Reindeer are arctic animals. Logically, it makes sense, right?
- The Cultural Connection: In rural Italy, donkeys were the backbone of the economy for centuries. They hauled olives, grapes, and wood. Giving a donkey the "Santa" job was a nod to the working-class roots of many Italian immigrants.
- The Food: Dominick doesn't eat reindeer moss. He eats "pasta fazool" and dried corn. It’s a caricature, sure, but it’s one that felt like home to a generation of people who saw their own lives reflected in the humor.
The "Jing-a-di-jing" Factor: Music Theory of a Novelty Hit
Musically, the italian donkey christmas song is built on a tarantella rhythm. This is a 6/8 time signature that is designed to make you move. Traditionally, the tarantella was used to "cure" the bite of a wolf spider by making the victim dance until they sweat out the poison. There’s a frantic energy to it.
The "jing-a-di-jing" and "hee-haw" sounds act as an earworm. They are percussive. Even if you don't know the words, you can participate. That’s the secret sauce of any successful holiday song. You need a "participation trigger." Mariah Carey has the high note. Nat King Cole has the warmth. Lou Monte has the donkey noises.
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Fact vs. Fiction: Did the Mafia Fund It?
There’s a long-standing rumor—mostly fueled by the fact that Lou Monte was an Italian singer in the 1950s—that the song was somehow "pushed" by organized crime. There is zero evidence for this. Roulette Records, the label that released it, did have some well-documented ties to the Genovese crime family through its founder Morris Levy. However, Dominick’s success was largely organic. It succeeded because it was played at weddings and basement parties. It was a grassroots hit long before "viral" was a digital term.
The Polarizing Legacy
If you search for the italian donkey christmas song today, you’ll find two types of people.
First, there are the purists. These are the people who believe Christmas isn't Christmas until they hear that first "hee-haw." It represents a connection to a lost world—the world of Brooklyn brownstones and Sunday dinners that lasted six hours. To them, the song is sentimental. It’s a link to grandfathers who wore fedoras and smelled like Bering cigars.
Then, there are the haters. To them, the song is the musical equivalent of a migraine. They find the repetitive noises grating. They see it as a "cliché" that borders on offensive.
But honestly? The song survives because it doesn't take itself seriously. In a holiday season often bogged down by forced sentimentality and over-produced ballads, a song about a donkey eating pasta is a breath of fresh, slightly silly air.
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How to Properly Use the Italian Donkey Christmas Song
If you’re planning a holiday party and want to deploy this track, you have to be tactical. You can’t just drop it in between "O Holy Night" and "Silent Night." That’s a mood killer.
- Timing is everything. Play it after the second round of drinks has been served.
- Get the kids involved. Children find the donkey noises hilarious. They are the target demographic, even 60 years later.
- Pair it with the menu. If you aren't serving something with red sauce, why are you playing Lou Monte?
The song is a piece of history. It’s a snapshot of a time when the "Melting Pot" of America was producing weird, wonderful cultural hybrids. It’s not a masterpiece of songwriting, but it is a masterpiece of branding. Dominick isn't just a donkey; he’s an icon of the Italian-American experience.
Next Steps for Your Holiday Playlist
To truly appreciate the italian donkey christmas song, you should explore the broader world of Italian-American holiday music. Start by looking up the rest of Lou Monte’s catalog, specifically his "Golden Hits" album, to understand the comedic timing he brought to his music. For a more "serious" but equally cultural experience, track down recordings of the Zampognari—the traditional Italian bagpipers who come down from the mountains at Christmas. Finally, if you want to see the modern impact of Dominick, check out the various animated versions on YouTube that have millions of views, proving that the next generation is already being indoctrinated into the cult of the donkey.
Check your local listings for "Italian Heritage" nights at skating rinks or community centers during December. You are almost guaranteed to hear the jing-a-di-jing of Dominick echoing off the walls, keeping a 1960s tradition alive in the 2020s.