We're back with bad lyrics, only this time the emphasis is on "dangerous lyrics," or pop songs manipulated as ham-fisted and catchy public service messages to drive home vague political themes and imagery. That's right: it's the infamous Presidential Campaign Songs of 2008! It's Celine Dion! Chuck Berry! Ben Harper! Stevie Wonder! ABBA! You've heard them. You've probably already sick of them. They are almost always mid-tempo, in a 4/4 stomp, and addressed to the first person plural - "we" and "us". After all, "we" live in a "democracy" where all of "us" actively participate in public policy. Right?
The history of presidential campaign songs roughly mirrors American pop itself. As Sousa singalongs and Broadway pop have gone the way of the Whigs, the two biggest political parties have rallied to the sweet sounds of mid-tempo rock ever since the Seventies, with the Baby Boomers' coming of age. Who can forget the 1993 Inaugural Ball, where Bill Clinton donned Mac Tonight's black sunglasses and a polished gold saxophone and boogied to Fleetwood Mac's "Don't Stop"? Even Ronald Reagan came to party in 1984 with his bone-headed adoption of Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA":
I'm ten years burning down the road. Nowhere to run, ain't got nowhere to go.
Apparently nothing got the 1984 Republican National Convention in a frenzy like trickle-down tax cuts, a near-ten-percent unemployment rate, a massively subsidized automobile industry founded upon a nonrenewable, atmosphere-choking natural resource, and nearly one of every 150 Americans in jail. Yes, "Born in the U.S.A." fit in nicely with Reagan's message. And as it turns out, President Bush's as well.
Soon enough, Springsteen dissed Reagan for co-opting his song and distorting his message. That's an important lesson. "Dangerous lyrics" aren't "dangerous" until a political party or corporation makes them so. In virtually every instance of "dangerous lyrics," the artist is not at fault for writing propaganda. After all, they didn't write the song for some presidential hopeful. You think John Mellencamp wrote "Our Country" to sell Chevy Silverados, or to get John Edwards elected? Well, maybe, but I doubt it.
The real reason these songs get picked are for their blithe optimism, empty promises, and shameless revivalism. These are properties you never knew the song had until they got linked to some politician. I always thought Neil Diamond's "America" was about immigration, not Michael Dukakis. His opponent, George H.W. Bush, probably didn't hear Woody Guthrie's extra verses about abolishing private property when he selected "This Land Is Your Land" for his campaign, but dang it if that catchy refrain didn't get the Republican pundits pumped up. And who would have thought that Tom Petty's "Won't Back Down" meant "Let's Send More Troops And Private Contractors To Iraq" until George W. Bush pressed play? Certainly not Tom Petty.
(Incidentally, I've heard that Bush has Joni Mitchell and George Jones in heavy rotation on his iPod. We can only imagine what great campaign songs "Hejira" or "If Drinkin' Won't Kill Me [Her Memory Will]" would have made.)
Some other big pop stars have written songs for years with explicit political messages and far more interesting lyrics just begging to be adopted by candidates. But why aren't these songs ever selected? Maybe because they name names: they are too specific. Eminem's "Mosh" sounds like aural fascism, oppressive and relentless, which is appropriate, since who among us, outraged by Bush's wars, hasn't pictured the President strapped with an AK and shoved onto the battlefield? I don't love the song, but it does get me pumped up. Perfect for an edgy Democratic candidate fending off another four years of Blackwater contracts and Gitmo. Go, Kerry, go! Power up Eminem!
So what did John Kerry do? He decided to campaign on Springsteen's "Never Surrender." Oh, I get it. It's ironic. I mean, after all, he did surrender. And there's a war outside still raging. No retreat, baby, no surrender.
As for the Republican party, conservative might-have-been campaign songs are even better. I can't believe Bush didn't pick Toby Keith's "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue (The Angry American)." Many brow-beating Democrats can quote the lyrics to you, especially the notorious "put a boot in your ass," followed by an hysterical diatribe on artistic responsibility and Republican ignorance. But it's still a good song. I used to play it just to irritate my Democrat friends. Let's face it. They didn't march against the war in Iraq or Afghanistan, and in November 2006 they voted for people who wimped out on getting the troops home. So Toby Keith is just the thing to get them worked up.
There are two reasons, I suppose, why anyone would dislike "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue." One, they dislike country music. Fair enough. I used to hate it myself. Two, they have some political gripes. Again, fair enough, but that is not a good reason to dislike a song, only to disagree with its message. If you looked closely at the political opinions held by your favorite authors or musicians, and you treated them like Toby Keith, you might as well take a bunch of your books and albums and burn them. For my own part, I adore Goethe and Nietzsche, but I can't deny that they were unabashed elitists with very little regard for the lower classes, only insofar as they provide for the "best specimens" of humanity — and that means wealthy artists, scholars, and generals. Even so, I still enjoy reading them.
Likewise, Toby Keith's lyrics might be politically insufferable, but they're still a hoot. Goofy and heavy-handed, but still downright clever. The army daddy without the right eye. The "sucker punch" from somewhere in the back, which roughly rhymes with you-know-where (this is the one part of the song where I wince). Uncle Sam masquerading as Santa Claus, with Osama on the Bad Boy list. And among all the cheezy Liberty Bells and Statutes of Liberty, there is a simple, strange line: "And the eagle will fly" — which in its weird humor makes three years of the Colbert Report redundant. "And the eagle will fly." What eagle? Where is it going? Truly mysterious and dazzling, that eagle.
To put things in perspective, Mr. Keith's song is a flawless masterpiece compared to Darryl Worley's "Have You Forgotten?", a paean to Idiocy personified. Basically Worley says, "We can violate international law and invade Iraq for no good . . . well, listen, partner. Don't you remember how you felt on 9/11?" Well, sure. I skipped class and protested the assault on Afghanistan. By the time Worley cut this song, and Colin Powell pitched the Iraq invasion to the UN, it was well-known there was no connection between the September 11 attacks and Iraq. None. Bush administration officials suggested the connection, and somehow this rumor appealed to people like Darryl Worley.
I'm not saying he's an idiot. I have no doubt Worley is dead serious about the 9/11-Iraq connection in this song, as well as Iraq somehow being a threat to our "freedom," but his clenched overbite lyrical solemnity suffocates the entire affair. (Not that the music helps.) If Toby Keith had somehow connected 9/11 to Iraq, at least he would have written an enjoyable, humorous song. Darryl Worley just wants to run all-day footage of the World Trade Center on fire. What a buzzkill. What a cad. You know, there's a reason why movie critics reserve phrases like "monumentally stupid" for money-grubbing dreck like this.
Unfortunately for this article, the current crop of presidential theme songs aren't nearly as stupid or clever as the should-have-beens from Eminem and Toby Keith. Take Hillary's campaign song. It would be difficult for me to write even a paragraph on Celine Dion's "You & I". It's hard to believe her supporters chose this from a widely publicized online poll, but consider the competition: U2's "City of Blinding Lights," Dixie Chicks' "Ready to Run," Shania Twain's "Rock This Country!" (bonus XP for exclamation points), etc. Boooo-ring. All three artists have written far better, more provocative songs. When Celine Dion sounds edgy, you know you got trouble. These are the actual lyrics to "You & I", for those of you who have never seen them:
We'll sail across the sky, so come with me,
And you will feel that we're soaring,
That we're floating up so high
'Cause you and I were meant to fly.
I'm not really sure what this has to do with anything, really, unless Hillary will be giving us all airplanes instead of tax breaks. Then again, note that Celine sings, "[Y]ou will feel that we're soaring." So maybe we'll all just drop acid, or roll down hills and try to stand up.
Interestingly, the song captures something about the Clinton campaign, specifically about her own self-regard. For all of Obama's "Yes We Can" nonsense — and let's not mince words here, because nonsense is exactly what it is, and I defy anyone to recite Obama's specific policies — for all his empty bombast, I do know dozens of extremely intelligent people pulling for Obama who really believe they are a part of something momentous. By contrast, Hillary is incessantly self-important. Help me get elected. I have the experience. Or as Celine puts it, "Take me higher than all the stars above." Uh-huh. Talk to NASA. They can help you. Or Lil Wayne.
As for Obama, I'm told he has two campaign songs: Ben Harper's "Better Way" and Stevie Wonder's "Signed, Sealed, Delivered - I'm Yours." Now I don't know the Ben Harper song well enough to pass judgment on it, but it's one of those songs whose lyrics virtually write themselves if you know the title. "Better Way." Hmm. "I'll take a stand, with a firm will, I've got a better plan." Hey, wait, that rhymes. In fact, I'll bet Obama could recite these lyrics at an upcoming rally, and the next day's papers will gush over his "awesome vision" and "righteous fervor." He could cop rhymes from the "Green Eggs and Ham," and John Kerry would endorse him.
I do not like them with a fox.
I do not like them in a house.
I do not like them with a mouse.
I do not like them here or there.
I do not like them anywhere.
I do not like green eggs and ham.
I do not like them - yes, we can!
Cut to a shot of will.i.am jumping up and down. Then again, Obama's got Stevie Wonder's "Signed Sealed Delivered - I'm Yours." Ahh, Stevie. Just this morning I rode to work on my bike, rocking Innervisions for the umpteenth-billion time. I pledge on this website never to write a bad thing about Stevie Wonder, for all the joy he's brought to so many people's lives. But the song sure raises some interesting questions about Obama. "Done a lot of foolish things / That I really didn't mean." Come again? Surely Obama didn't mean - voting on behalf of huge Illinois agrobusinesses to promote corn-based ethanol instead of cheaper, more efficient cellulose-based stuff from South America? Or neglecting to filibust the war, because even if you vote against the Iraq invasion, and you mention it at every CNN/YouTube debate and press conference, that's a pretty weak way of taking a stand? Or maybe he regretted talking hoops with Greg Oden? Surely not that! (And like Beetlejuice, the more often I write Greg Oden's name, the faster his knee heals. Greg Oden, Greg Oden, Greg Oden. Say it with me, people. Just recently he dunked for the first time in months.)
Lastly, we have John McCain — because, after all, who else is running besides these three? (Somewhere off in the distance, Mike Gravel just drop-kicked a megaphone.) Wikipedia claims that his campaign song is ABBA's "Take A Chance On Me," but on my life I swear I heard "Johnny B. Goode" after he won the nomination.
Go sit beneath the tree by the railroad track
Oh, the engineers would see him sitting in the shade
Strumming with the rhythm that the drivers made
People passing by they would stop and say
Oh my that little country boy could play
OK, McCain, this does not compute. None of this hillbilly scruff popped up in your autobio. Where is your gunny sack? I should mention that the Stevie Wonder Rule also applies to Chuck Berry, and given that "Johnny B. Goode" is the "Für Elise" of rock and roll — the one song that virtually every guitarist worth his chops can play some approximation of — it is critically unassailable. It really is one of the greatest songs in rock and roll. And I must say, I'm ashamed great songs like "Johnny B. Goode" and "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" get played so often in campaigns and commercials that they grow stale and familiar. Oh, John McCain. You still think the Vietnam War was a good idea. I think that ten-thousand years and John Hagee just about sum up my feelings on you. Why couldn't you have picked Darryl Worley's "Have You Forgotten?" Because I know you haven't.
Well, I've mostly wasted words prodding the current presidential candidates, but political propaganda is a serious matter. If I could leave you with a final thought in regards to how "dangerous lyrics" are misused in the service of (often illegitamite) power, it would be this quote from George Orwell on the Spanish-American War. I've reproduced it before. Heed these words. Commit them to memory.
Believe nothing, or next to nothing, of what you read about internal affairs on the Government side. It is all, from whatever source, party propaganda—that is to say, lies.
