Democratic candidates’ walkon songs matter
The first Democratic presidential debates for 2020 were in Miami this week, and they left me with nothing but questions: How many of Elizabeth Warren’s ideas are all these nondescript dudes posting on their websites right now? Why is Pete Buttigieg getting the attention that should be going to Julián Castro? Will MSNBC give Bill de Blasio the guest spot he wants instead of this campaign?
Alas, it’s still very early. Probably too early for me to get any answers, so right now I’m focused on one of the lessdiscussed issues in the race: the candidates’ songs.
Yes, their songs. A candidate’s campaign song choice isn’t as important as, say, her plan to fight climate change or deliver affordable health care. But campaign songs matter.
A wellchosen one makes a candidate’s rise feel inevitable. (I would’ve remained blissfully ignorant of Fleetwood Mac if Bill Clinton hadn’t played “Don’t Stop” endlessly in 1992.)
Meanwhile, a poor choice can be ... telling. In 2016, Hillary Clinton chose Rachel Platten’s “Fight Song,” a barn burner about a woman’s struggle against apathy that should’ve been a red flag to the country about voter suppression and turnout. I’m not saying things would’ve gone differently if she’d picked Alice Cooper’s “Elected,” but I’m not not saying that, either.
Let’s have a look at what this year’s crop of Democratic candidates are spinning, shall we? (The candidates picked these songs to introduce themselves at the Iowa Democrats Hall of Fame event in early June.)
Cory Booker: “Lovely Day,” by Bill
Withers: Fantastic song. Who could possibly argue with this song? Every generation grooves with the melody, and Withers’ plainspoken lyrics are humble perfection. But that’s kind of the problem with Booker’s campaign, isn’t it? As a candidate, Booker talks on and on with a smile on his face. He makes you sway and hum and feel nice, just like this song. But he wants to enter the fullthrottle arena against Orange Villainous, not attend my summer barbecue. Amp up your choices, senator.
Bernie Sanders: “Power to the Peo
ple,” by John Lennon: I’ll give Sanders this — the man stays on message. He’s never afraid to look like a throwback, and he’s never worried about whether you believe in his revolution or not. It’s coming because he says it is. Nothing subtle about this song choice. Nothing subtle about Sanders’ insistence on being a constant candidate, either.
Elizabeth Warren: “Nine to Five,”
by Dolly Parton: Of course, Warren would pick a song about a hardworking woman’s Sisyphean struggle against sexist boss men and class inequality. She’s been fighting those battles all of her life! Picking Dolly Parton seems like a smart choice, too — everyone loves Dolly. But just like this choice, those sexist boss men think Warren is too smart. Nothing will make them happy. Warren shouldn’t even try to please them. Still, I’d love to see her pick a danceable song with lyrics that matter less than the sentiment. Jessie J’s “Price Tag,” perhaps?
Pete Buttigieg: “High Hopes,” by
Panic! At the Disco: In some ways, this is a great campaign song. The horn section is bright, the rhythm is upbeat, and the lyrics about a young man with nothing to recommend him but ambition are, well, fitting for Mr. South Bend. In other ways, this song tells you everything that’s wrong with Buttigieg as a candidate. Panic! At the Disco is a perfectly normal pop band that thinks it can stand out with the exhausting tic of aggressive punctuation, just as Buttigieg thinks standing out means speaking Norwegian on demand, instead of offering coherent policies. Also, people of color are as allergic to this song as we are to Buttigieg’s campaign. With his callowness, vague ideas and base of white male media pundits and Democratic donors, Buttigieg doesn’t remind us of a presidential candidate. He reminds us of the smarmy 25yearold business consultant who schmoozes our boss with a $300 dinner and then lays us off the next day in the name of efficiency. If Buttigieg wants to branch out, he’s going to need a lot more than ambition.
Kamala Harris: “Work That,” by
Mary J. Blige: It’s interesting to contrast Harris with the inexperienced Buttigieg because she’s laserfocused on the group of voters who will ultimately decide the Democratic nominee: black women over the age of 40. One of her first campaign stops was the annual gala of her African American sorority, Alpha Kappa Alpha. She’s constantly talking about her time as a student at Howard University, the historically black college in Washington, D.C. Then her campaign chose a song by favorite Auntie Mary J. Blige? Unlike most of the candidates, Harris recognizes who makes up the backbone of the Democratic Party. I appreciate that. But I also know that black women are the most practical voters in the United States. We’re skeptical of pandering because it so rarely results in real change.
Beto O’Rourke, “Clampdown,” by
the Clash: A highenergy, onbrand choice for a former punk rocker. Problem is, it makes me think about the clampdown on voter rights in Texas. Next thing you know I’m wistfully wondering why O’Rourke is pretending to be the Rosetta Stone program on the debate stage instead of making the truly punk rock move of running for Texas’ U.S. Senate seat in 2020.