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- Josh the Otter and the Chevron Decision (7/5/24)
Opinion
Campaign songs, part one
Friday, April 5, 2024
As we approach the final months of our presidential election process, I think about how media coverage and advertising have changed over the years. Social media now play a prominent role in news coverage, generating what’s known as “earned media” in marketing circles.
The pattern is now recognizable. The candidate (or staff) enters a one or two-sentence, bombastic, hyperbolic statement on Twittex in the morning, and talk show pundits pick it up for commentary throughout the afternoon. By late afternoon, the evening news programs choose from several clips of outraged daytime talking heads to produce their news segments.
The following day, the candidate’s staff will formally clarify what the candidate meant to say. A secondary news cycle then follows–and it all begins with one or two sentences.
Some of us are old enough to remember when networks only dedicated an hour to a day’s news, and media-seeking antics were more likely to wind up on the cutting room floor. Campaigns relied on paid advertisements but also on whistle-stop tours and local neighborhood organizations.
Another election-year tradition that is not seen anymore is the campaign song. We now have popular songs coopted by candidates as walk-on themes at rallies and the occasional artists who worry that the use of their work will be seen as endorsements. Long before that, we had the campaign song. It was written for the candidate, circulated via sheet music or broadsides (posters), and sung in taverns.
Although campaigning in the 18th century was deemed to be beneath the dignity of the office, partisan campaigns soon developed. George Washington’s popularity was based upon his leadership during the War of Independence, so his campaign song naturally traded on that theme.
“The day is broke; my lads, march on, And follow, follow Washington,
He will lead the way, my lads; 'tis he that leads the way.”
Thomas Jefferson’s campaign song was more issue-related, opposing the authoritarian character of the Adams administration’s Alien and Sedition Acts.
“The gloomy night before us flies, The reign of terror now is o'er;
Its gags, inquisitors, and spies. Its herds of harpies are no more!”
Songs began taking a more prominent role in campaigns during the election of 1840 when the Whig Party’s William Henry Harrison sought to unseat incumbent Martin Van Buren. Harrison was promoted as the “Hero of Tippecanoe,” an 1811 battle fought against Native Americans in the Indiana territory. Harrison's camp adopted the catchy tune "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too," celebrating Harrison's military exploits but, more importantly (a century before Women’s suffrage), portrayed him as a “champion of the common man.”
“His latchstring hangs outside the door, And is never pulled through,
“For it never was the custom of Old Tippecanoe
“He always had his tables set; for all honest and true,
“To ask you in to take a bite, With Tippecanoe and Tyler too.”
Throughout the 19th century, campaign songs tied name recognition to the American people's hopes, dreams, and ideals. Abraham Lincoln's presidential campaign distributed "Lincoln and Liberty," championing abolition with a biblical reference, a surprisingly brutal partisan edge, and a refrain from Harrison’s popular tune.
“Our David's good sling is unerring, The Slaveocrats' giant he slew; Then shout for the Freedom-preferring—For Lincoln and Liberty too!”
Grover Cleveland, the first Democrat elected to the White House since the Civil War, won the office in 1885 but was defeated by Benjamin Harrison in 1889. He then won a rematch with Harrison in 1893, becoming our only President to serve two non-consecutive terms (so far).
Cleveland’s 1885 campaign took place during the heyday of John Phillip Sousa, and as was the fashion of the day, Cleveland’s most famous campaign song was a fully orchestrated March. That may seem impractical, but recall that, at the time, any respectable town of means had a band (McCook’s brass band was reportedly formed sometime around 1882).
As if to foreshadow the failure of his 1889 campaign, supporters sang,
“He’d make the White House shine like a lighthouse
“Over our 38 states!”
By the end of 1889, four additional states had been admitted, raising that number to 42.
Ultimately, Cleveland is the subject of one of the more famous examples of early negative advertising, or “attack ads.” A song alluding to rumors about Cleveland’s carefree days as a bachelor, opponents infamously penned a song with the lyrics:
“Ma! Ma! Where’s my pa? Gone to the Whitehouse, ha, ha, ha.”
Next Friday, we’ll examine further developments of the campaign song in the 20th century. Have a good week.