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Maybe it has something to do with my particular (peculiar?) line of work, but the most vivid memory I have from the Clinton/Gore campaign years is a musical one. I believe it was the eve of Clinton’s 1992 victory, and he and Gore were celebrating with Hillary and Tipper on a giant stage that dwarfed the massive crowd. Clinton almost fell into the crowd a couple of times as he leaned over to shake the hand of a supporter or two. And blaring in the background was a song I remembered well from ’70s AOR radio: Fleetwood Mac’s "Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow." I won’t suggest that Clinton’s election triumph had anything to do with the resurgence of Fleetwood Mac as a big summer-shed draw in the ’90s, but it wouldn’t surprise me: after all, by the end of his first campaign, Clinton owned that song every bit as much as he owned the electorate. And there isn’t a doubt in my mind that the overwhelming optimism embodied in "Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow" played a large role in his victories over George Bush and Bob Dole. After all, if you’re thinking about tomorrow, Bush and Dole aren’t the first faces that come to mind. But a youthful Bill Clinton and Al Gore — that’s the future personified. Or at least, it felt that way, and that’s what mattered. Music has played an important role in every American election since George Washington waltzed into office at the behest of young America’s rising power brokers. His song, which you can hear sung by Oscar Brand on a 1999 Folkways CD titled Presidential Campaign Songs: 1789–1996, was called "Follow Washington," and it’s a simple jingle, as would be most of the songs that helped elevate our founding fathers to the highest office in the land, "Adams and Liberty" and "For Jefferson and Liberty" and the like. After that, the races got a little tougher and the songs that served as their soundtracks grew more complicated, sometimes borrowing from a familiar tune of the day, like William Harrison’s unimaginative "Harrison Yankee Doodle" and James A. Garfield’s "If the Johnnies Get into Power Again" (you can almost hear the crowds shouting "Oh no! Oh no!") to the tune of "When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again." James Madison swept into office behind "Huzzah for Madison, Huzzah." There were some funny ones as the United States came into its own: Martin Van Buren’s campaign manager, if they had such things at the time, chose "Rockabye Baby," which may explain why politicians to this day make it a point to kiss babies on the campaign trail. And Zachary Taylor’s people seemed happy enough singing a little ditty called "Rum a Dum Dum." I’m pretty certain he’d have been skewered by late-night talk-show hosts for that one if they’d had such things at the time. My personal favorites from the past are the ones that incorporate a clever rhyme or alliteration: "Get on a Raft with Taft," "Marching with McKinley," "Keep Cool and Keep Coolidge," and, of course, "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too!" What surprised me more than anything was how recently the practice of having a song that mentions the candidate died out. I knew all about "I’m Just Wild About Harry," the Harry Truman song, because my grandfather, a diehard Democrat, had that one on a 78 that I heard as a kid. But by the time a media-savvy guy like JFK hit the campaign trail, I’d have thought they’d have given up on silly songs. Not so: Kennedy had his "Marching Down to Washington," LBJ had his "Hello, Lyndon" (no wonder he didn’t run for a second term), and Richard Nixon, our first law-and-order president, had "Buckle Down with Nixon" written to the familiar "Buckle Down, Winsocki." It all wound down with Gerald Ford’s "I’m Feeling Good About America" (unfortunately not a lot of other people were), which lost out to Jimmy Carter’s even more positive "Why Not the Best?" As we’ve all learned from the pundits, it’s important to run a "positive" campaign. By the time Ronald Reagan was gunning for Washington, the now popular tactic of adopting an already familiar song had come back into vogue. His was "California, Here We Come," which makes you wonder whether the rest of the country didn’t feel left out. If it did, Reagan didn’t do himself any favors when, later in his presidency, he attempted to appropriate Bruce Springsteen’s "Born in the U.S.A." in a campaign speech, apparently unaware of its anti-Vietnam slant and its wholesale critique of a certain forgotten segment of the American people — the ones Reagan liked to forget about. Unless I’m mistaken, that was the last time a Republican presidential candidate looked to the rock world for musical accompaniment. George H.W. Bush, in one of the crueler twists of fate ever to befall Woody Guthrie, made "This Land Is Your Land" his campaign song, a move that served as ample fodder for Bob Roberts, the pointed Tim Robbins satire about the folk-singing populist Republican who runs for president. Which brings us to the present election and the battle of the bands that’s going on behind the scenes. Having sat through the good parts of the Democratic and Republican National Conventions, I have to say that John Kerry has the musical edge right now. U2’s "It’s a Beautiful Day" is positive and inspiring, and Bono is Irish, not French. I suppose that picking a song by a foreign band is something the Republicans might latch onto as evidence of what Zell Miller referred to as Kerry’s willingness to let the world — or, at least, the UN — decide when it’s okay for the US to defend itself. (To me, it seemed Kerry was simply suggesting that maybe it’s not a good idea to dismantle the North American Treaty Organization and undercut the United Nations at a time when it’s going to take international cooperation to eliminate terrorism — but what do I know about such things?) I’ve also noticed the O’Jays song "Love Train" playing in the background at a number of Kerry rallies, and I’m not so sure about that one. I mean, what is a love train? Sounds kind of dirty. And Middle Americans tend to shy away from dirty stuff. Plus, Kerry looks better nodding along to the big rock guitars of "It’s a Beautiful Day" then trying to make that lanky body of his approximate a groove that suits "Love Train." On the other hand, his third choice is a gutsy one: Tom Petty’s "I Won’t Back Down." It’s a tough, knotty number, and if the pundits are right, Kerry needs to project greater toughness. He also has an advantage over Bush in that he actually played bass in a rock band as a teenager. They were called the Electras, and he looked about as cool as most prep-school kids who played in bands at the time. Bill Clinton got a nice little bounce in the polls every time he picked up his sax, so maybe the bass guitar will be Kerry’s secret weapon. Unfortunately, he doesn’t look much cooler playing guitar in 2004 than he did back in prep school. George W. Bush, on the other hand, has never struck me as a very musical guy. I mean, there are tons of country acts writing pro-American anthems, yet Bush hasn’t adopted any of them as his own. Maybe even country is too controversial for George W. If he doesn’t want to alienate the swing voters, he probably doesn’t want to come on stage to the sound of "These colors don’t run." Or maybe instead of going after swing voters this fall, the Republicans are planning to get the vote out old-school style and win the swing states by making sure every Republican who’s against abortion and same-sex marriage gets to a voting booth on election day. And perhaps Bush figures that music ain’t all that important to a presidential campaign, especially since he already has the official presidential theme, "Hail to the Chief," which we stole from the Scots in 1812 and is said to have been attached to the presidency as early as 1845. If it comes down to "Hail to the Chief" versus "It’s a Beautiful Day," well, I think Kerry’s got the election wrapped up. Then again, politics isn’t my field. I just find U2’s brand of anthemic posturing more appealing then some Marine band playing "Hail to the Chief." As most things do, it all boils down to a matter of taste. But wouldn’t it be fun if George W. took a chance and hired, say, Kenny Chesney to write a punchy little number called "Don’t Mess with Texas" or "We’re with Dubya" to play at rallies? Imagine that: bringing back the art of the campaign song. |
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Issue Date: September 10 - 16, 2004 Back to the Music table of contents |
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