Music on the Campaign Trail

In the Fall of 1977, just weeks before gay rights activist Harvey Milk won a seat on the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, the English rock band Queen released the album News of the World. The LP included a short, heavily-rhythmic single called “We Will Rock You”, which typically segues into the anthemic “We Are the Champions”. Written by Queen’s lead guitarist Brian May, “We Will Rock You” was recorded in an abandoned church in north London because the band liked the acoustics. And as Seth Wickersham, writing for ESPN reports, “For weeks, Mercury and May took turns stomping on old pews and clapping, until they got the right sound.”

Nearly four decades later, “We Will Rock You” remains the number one track played at American sporting events—a fact that has intrigued me as much as I imagine it’s made a few structural engineers nervous since the trend began. Forgive the generalized stereotype implicit in this observation, but to watch, for instance, forty thousand Dallas Cowboys fans sing along with gay Freddie Mercury in virile support of their football team is  exactly the kind of cultural counterpoint I appreciate when it happens. The song was literally born in a church; it was sung by an incredible artist whose identity was at least somewhat restrained by the semi-tolerant limbo of homosexuality through the 1980s and the AIDS crisis; and then it became the Sunday hymnal of some of the most mainstream and socially conservative Americans, all rallied into chorus by May’s thump-thump-clap rhythm.

The fact that the verses of “We Will Rock You” are about loss and futility only adds another layer of irony to its role in sports fandom; but this is generally what we make of music anyway. The chorus and the rhythm fit our moods of triumph, sorrow, defiance, momentum, heartbreak, and so on, even if the lyrics and melody tell a very different story. And this relationship to music often comes into sharp relief when political candidates use a popular song—almost always because of the chorus—at campaign events.

In particular, when candidates represent or evangelize a point of view that is anathema to the authors’ beliefs—or even in direct opposition to what a song itself might be about—it has lately become a regular feature of our politics to hear of artists either asking or demanding that politicians not use their works. These stories, of course, lead to all manner of confusion about copyright, fair use, and the control an artist may or may not exert in these contexts. In most cases, people seem to side with artists, which is certainly encouraging, though hatred of a political candidate and love of a musician isn’t necessarily the clearest lens through which one might view these conflicts.

When Neil Young demanded that Donald Trump stop using his song “Rockin’ in the Free World” at campaign events, fans praised Young, though it’s not clear that he was on solid legal ground at the time. In general, a campaign is covered as long as the venue or the campaign itself has paid fees to Performing Rights Organization (PRO) like ASCAP, BMI, or SESAC (or all three) to license the use of nearly any song for public performance. The campaign has a responsibility to ensure the venue has these licenses (or to get its own), but as long as the PROs are covered, the artists and songwriters generally have no say, from a legal perspective, about the context in which their songs may be used at live events.

Artists may certainly ask a political candidate not to use a song, and they are free to publicly criticize the use as much as they want, but they can’t rely on copyright law to stop a politician from making this kind of use if the licenses are up to date. In another context, however, if a candidate makes repeated use of a song to the extent that it starts to become his/her theme music, the artist may see this as unlicensed endorsement and seek to enforce his/her right of publicity in order to stop the use. I’m not sure what the legal facts were in the Trump/Young kerfuffle; I’m guessing the campaign was most likely in the clear but decided to let the song go rather than allow a public fight with Neil Young to distract from its core message at the time of hating on Mexicans. One must prioritize.

Mike Huckabee Uses Eye of the Tiger at Kentucky Rally

In a different—and slightly bizarre—circumstance, the organization Huckabee for President, Inc. is facing a lawsuit by publisher Rude Music for copyright infringement stemming from a public performance of the song “Eye of the Tiger”, co-authored by Rude Music’s owner Frank Sullivan for the 1982 motion picture Rocky III. Approximately one quarter of the four-minute song was played outdoors at a rally in Grayson, KY on September 8, 2015 immediately after candidate Huckabee introduced Kim Davis to the podium following her release from the Carter County Detention Center, where she had been jailed for her refusal to issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples. It’s a safe bet the county jail hadn’t paid any PRO licenses as they probably don’t host a lot of parties or other events requiring music. Ostensibly, this suggests the Huckabee campaign messed up in one way or another, and the defense presented in their case seems a little odd.

The attorney for Huckabee has presented affirmative fair use defenses addressing all four factors, including a less-frequently-cited exception for use of music at a religious assembly. In fact, the defense states that the candidate was only in attendance as an evangelical Christian in support of a rally called the “We Stand With God Pro Family Rally”, organized by a religious group and not the Huckabee campaign. What seems odd to me, though—and speaking as a layman of course—is that the foundation of Huckabee’s defense would appear to be that the Grayson event simply was not his show—that their operatives did not publicly perform “Eye of the Tiger” as part of the Huckabee for President campaign. And the reason I say this is odd is that if this fact can be proven—or cannot be disproven—then the fair use defenses presented would be moot.  If Huckabee for President, Inc. did not publicly perform the song, then it cannot have infringed, which begs the question of offering any fair use defenses at all. If a use by a defendant does not exist, then there is no question of fairness to be judged.

So, the defense of religious assembly is irrelevant if it was not Huckabee’s assembly; and if it was in any way his assembly, he will have to prove that it was a purely religious gathering having nothing to do with the campaign. How he might hope to make that distinction, particularly when Mike Huckabee barely recognizes a separation between church and state, would appear to require a rather fine legal scalpel.

In particular, as mentioned, the candidate introduced Kim Davis to the stage and then somebody pushed Play on “Eye of the Tiger”; so even if this coordinated bit of theater came together impromptu, it looks an awful lot like the event became a Huckabee for President moment, regardless of whether it began as a religious assembly. One way or another—whether professionally planned or divinely arranged—candidate Huckabee certainly ended up with a neatly choreographed moment—shared via amateur video online—in which Davis joins him at the podium to the beat and triumphant lyrics of Sullivan’s famous comeback song. The fact that this particular visual is just one of many reasons Mike Huckabee will never be president has of course no bearing on the infringement case.

As our politics have become more divisive, and side-show happenings can gain wider exposure than in pre-Internet years, politicians’ use of popular music is likely to produce more frequent points of contention for both artists and their fans. And, as I say, while the particulars of these cases often sow confusion about copyright and its limitations, the emotional response is anything but irrelevant. That bile-in-the-throat feeling one might get if Donald Trump played Bowie’s “Heroes” at a campaign rally is neither petty nor dismissible. Because music is more powerful than either the smartest or the dumbest thing any political figure has ever said. It is simultaneously more primal and more enlightened. It’s why Brian May’s rhythm can induce Pavlovian harmony among millions of sports fans, who in another context might have righteously trampled Freddie Mercury’s civil rights. Maybe music for politicians should come with a label:  WARNING. CONTENTS MAY ROCK YOU. USE WITH CAUTION.

Donald Trump: A Candidate for Our Times

Years ago, I heard a great discussion among a group of veteran, political journalists; and they were talking about the cliché in which candidates say, “I don’t want to get into a character debate. Let’s talk about the issues.”  Although that particular sentiment was a byproduct of the “family values” rhetoric of the GOP, one of the journalists made a very sound argument that, in fact, character, in the true meaning of the word, is probably a more valid indicator as to how a candidate is likely to govern than anything he or she says about a particular issue during the campaign.  Candidates, he suggested, will campaign on agendas they want to achieve; but given the realities of governance, which is filled with obstacles and unpredictable events, the character of the individual is a pretty reliable indicator as to the kinds of moment-of-truth decisions a leader will have to make while in office.

How that insight is helpful is another matter, since Americans will be as divided on assessments of character as they are on any policy issue, which is one reason I think it’s a shame that we’ve demoted veteran political reporters—those people who traditionally live with candidates on the campaign trail—to the pejorative status of elitist in favor of the more populist platforms of social media.  And so, it strikes me as just a little too perfect that the GOP front-runner happens to be a guy vying to be Asshole-in-Chief of the United States. By “too perfect” I mean that Donald Trump’s present shooting-star status (soon to burn out, I imagine) is a predictable manifestation of what political discourse has become despite living in—or perhaps because we live in—the Information Age.  It’s no surprise Trump appeals to a lot of voters. After all, he sounds just like so many citizens on social media sites and comment threads, who like to make smug, uninformed, and even offensive statements.  Trump is basically a troll.

Okay. Nate Silver beat me to this particular accusation with his article aptly titled Donald Trump is the World’s Biggest Troll.  I had a similar thought a while back, but Silver did actual work, like research and stuff; and so, his article compares and contrasts some of the mechanics that seem to be driving the—presumably temporary—dominance of candidate Trump with populists of the recent past, who have rapidly risen and fallen during primary season.  Silver makes a number of interesting points, but I was particularly drawn to the questions posed in this paragraph:

“Social media allows candidates to make news without the filter of the press. It may also encourage groupthink among and between reporters and readers, however. And access to real-time traffic statistics can mean that everyone is writing the same “takes” and chasing the same eyeballs at once. Is the tyranny of the Twitter mob better or worse than the “Boys on the Bus” model of a group of (mostly white, male, upper-middle-class, left-of-center) reporters deigning to determine what’s news and what isn’t? I don’t know, but it’s certainly different. And it seems to be producing a higher velocity of movement in the polls and in the tenor of media coverage.”

No doubt American politics today is different, though there is an argument to be made that the contemporary tone reflects a regression to the volatility of the late 19th century rather than progress made since the more moderated late 20th.  So, although Silver is reluctant to say whether or not the “tyranny of Twitter” is better or worse than the traditional filter of the press, I’m less inclined to be so neutral on the matter.  If things are not worse, I have to ask why it is that literally every subject—I mean every subject—has become aggressively politicized to the extent that both liberals and conservatives seem willing to ignore any number of technically apolitical realities in order to stand firm in their often futile convictions?  Isn’t that the opposite result of what a “better informed electorate” was supposed to produce?  Every day on Facebook, I see declarations of both left and right-wing outrage based solely on a misleading headline from some dubious source that is predicated on a complete distortion of facts that should never have been political in the first place.

But every topic feeds the circus now, and I guess that’s good for the people who own the proverbial tents, rings, cotton candy concessions, and sideshows; but it should be no surprise, then, when the most outrageous clown in the act winds up becoming the main attraction. Because, of course, Trump is troll-like inasmuch as his obnoxious comments lead serious people to wonder whether he means what he says, or if he’s purposely using divisiveness as a tactic. But this is hardly a distinction worth making because there is arguably no presidential material behind the troll, even if it isn’t an act.  (I mean, you could almost hear the collective spit-take by the Joint Chiefs the day he casually suggested “bombing Iraq’s oil fields.”) But I think Trump is serious about his candidacy, which means he’s technically not a troll. To the contrary, he is a known quantity — a character who’s been part of our culture, for better or worse, for nearly 40 years. I’ve often thought of him as my generation’s Malcolm Forbes, but without being, y’know, interesting.

And this is perhaps the real reason Trump’s polling status is such a natural byproduct of our times:  because he is a pre-digital-age master of what we might today call YouTube entrepreneurism. Trump has been “cultivating his personal brand” since long before the people were born, who now evangelize that idea on the stages of TEDx. His ego has been front and center since his earliest days developing real estate in New York City, and he has nurtured his personal brand into an icon of the American Boss—a cult of personality bizarrely based on the kind of guy you’d think nobody would ever want to work for in real life. Trump’s brand is being one of America’s biggest assholes, a role he has thoroughly embraced and even monetized. He trademarked the declaration “You’re fired”™ for crying out loud.  Trump is to American politics as Kim Kardashian’s ass is to American culture, and maybe it’s working for now because we’ve migrated from the shallow waters of the sound-bite to the dry lake beds of click-bait.