Politicians and Popular Musicians: the fine art of artistic endorsements

On both sides of the Atlantic, when politicians endorse musicians or vice versa, there is a strong tendency for it all to go horribly wrong. Such endorsements are rarely for any clear or direct political gain, and can often appear as a desperate attempt to convince an inherently distrustful public that, contrary to popular belief, politicians are fully paid-up members of the human race.

The political-artistic endorsement is then founded on the assumption that voters need to feel their political elites are, at least in some limited sense, like the ‘average man or woman in the street’. In a more potted form, this assumption comes from the school of electioneering that reduces electoral contests to the supposedly all important question in voters’ minds; ‘which candidate would I most like to have a beer with?’ The notional idea that our political elites are vaguely in-tune with the current popular zeitgeist is meant to achieve this ‘normalising’ effect, giving politicians the much coveted ‘likeability factor’.

For many voters, it may seem that any attempt to ‘humanise’ politicians is a thoroughly pointless endeavour – after all, as some might say, you can’t polish a turd. Meanwhile, serious political anoraks can dismiss all of this as the work of pernicious spin-doctors, and may ultimately regard it as unimportant flim-flam, insisting that historical and social context is likely to have a much greater impact on the outcome of a national election than any ‘likeability factor’, and they wouldn’t be wrong. But, in the UK, look at the extent to which being a dour and often curmudgeonly fifty-something man - much like many British men in their fifties - clearly hasn’t done Gordon Brown any favours.

In the UK, political-artistic endorsements are issued sparingly and often have a tendency to turn sour pretty rapidly. By contrast, in the US, artistic communities have consistently only been too willing to publicly declare their support for a given party or candidate. The Democrats have often rolled out Bruce ‘the boss’ Springsteen, where the Republicans have had eye-popping mad-man, Ted ‘the nuge’ Nugent fighting their corner at almost every given opportunity. Unlike other US presidential elections, in 2008, the hip-hop establishment broke with tradition and clearly declared its support for a candidate, coming out strongly in favour of Barack Obama – and yet, it is worth noting that this support was only 'sewn up' in the later stages of the presidential campaign. What follows is a list of political-artistic endorsements that have occurred either in the UK or US, with a cobbled together assessment of their successes or failures.

UK

i) Noel Gallagher’s visit to 10 Downing Street

In 1997, Gallagher’s attendance at a Downing Street reception reflected the degree of sunny optimism (at least in media circles) that immediately followed New Labour’s landslide election victory. This endorsement was also a traditional labour supporter celebrating the New Labour victory as if the party was still the voice of the British working class. Gallagher, like many core Labour supporters, failed to fully acknowledge the extent to which New Labour was politically quite unlike its predecessor.

Gallagher was openly criticised by fellow members of the 90’s Brit-pop fraternity for his over-exuberance in rushing to endorse the newly elected Blair government. Notably, Damien Albarn declined the invitation from Downing Street with the words, ‘dear Tony, I have become a communist. Enjoy the schmooze comrade’. For an artist that had sold himself as something of a ‘working class hero’, being pictured sipping champagne with the new prime minister was quite difficult to stomach. The manner of the endorsement and its timing - during Blair’s relatively lengthy ‘honeymoon’ period in office - destined it to failure. As evidenced by the above link, Gallagher himself came to regret the endorsement after the New Labour government became mired in the various controversies surrounding the 2003 invasion of Iraq.

ii) Gordon Brown on the Arctic Monkeys: ‘they are very loud'.

What was arguably a relatively innocent and stereotypically 'daddsy' comment about the 'loudness' of the Arctic Monkeys debut album, somehow came to be perceived as a horribly contrived and bungled attempt by the then Chancellor to 'get down with the kids'. Brown was really taken to task about the comment in an interview with Today host John Humphreys, who seemed convinced that it was simply a desperate bid to be 'liked'. This was possibly one of the least successful forays into popular music by a British politician in recent memory.

iii) David Cameron on the Smiths

David Cameron’s fond recollections of listening to the Smiths in his youth gave rise to an over-zealous knee-jerk reaction from the left. Guardian journalist John Harris went so far as to write ‘Hands Off our Music!’ in response to Cameron’s photo-op at the Smiths’ spiritual home, Salford Lad’s Club. Morrisey’s tendency to exhibit something of a ‘Little Englander’ mentality, if not outright xenophobia, is relatively well documented. In light of this, Harris’ insistence that the Smiths are very much the music ‘of the left’ seems a little hasty. Cameron’s endorsement was effectively over-shadowed by the ‘how very dare he’ over-reaction from the likes of John Harris and the Labour MP for Salford (then Secretary of State for Communities and Local Government), Hazel Blears.

If Cameron’s love of the Smiths is to be taken as a clear attempt to provide some sort of cultural hook for his re-constructed ‘compassionate conservatism’, a more effective strategy would have been to: a) commend Cameron on his good taste in music; b) quickly remind voters that the Tory party isn’t, and never has been, the party of the British working class; c) pay the endorsement scant further attention. Blears staged a small demonstration outside the Salford Lad’s Club to coincide with Cameron’s visit to the venue, yet this simultaneously provided the visit with a significance that it otherwise wouldn’t have had. On balance, Cameron’s endorsement was probably a success – it drew an angrily partisan reaction from certain quarters, which generated more publicity than it really warranted.

US

i) Daddy 'Gasolina' Yankee on John McCain

Daddy Yankee’s endorsement of the McCain campaign was a poorly stage-managed and horribly contrived attempt to canvass the Latino vote. When the Yankee endorsement was unveiled at a Latino-majority school, McCain was physically distant and visibly awkward in Yankee's presence. Oddly, after publicly announcing his endorsement of McCain's candidacy, Yankee promptly proceeded to sleaze all over an on-stage line-up of over-excitable teenage girls. By 2008, Yankee already fell into the lowly category of 'has-been-one-hit-wonder' and did little to boost McCain's credibility. This PR disaster probably ended in a sacking.

ii) Will.i.am on Obama: Yes, we can

Through my eyes, this was a gag-inducingly earnest endorsement of the Obama campaign, where the likes of Will.i.am, John Legend, Common and Scarlett Johansen echo lines from Obama’s speech following his electoral victory in the Iowa caucus. To my mind, it potentially ruined what was a great speech, yet it also brought it to a wider and younger audience. Interestingly, this endorsement only came after Obama had, in a sense, proved himself electorally in the Iowa caucus, winning considerable national and international media coverage as a result. It seems that Will.i.am’s business acumen, as both a producer and performer of highly commercial pop records, would not permit him to lend his support to a presidential campaign without fully-fledged national traction. In my humble opinion, john.he.is is a much improved adaptation of Will.i.am’s Yes, we can.

iii) Obama on Jay-z and Obama’s ‘Dirt off Your Shoulder’ reference

This interview includes a particularly canny endorsement of the superstar rapper. Whilst rejecting the often patent misogyny of Jay-Z's lyrics, Obama broadly endorsed the artistic efforts of a relatively controversial and hugely popular mainstream rapper. He effectively avoided offending hardcore Hilary supporters - who would likely take a dim view of jigga's lyrics - and struck a chord with critics of contemporary mainstream hip-hop more generally (many of which are found in increasingly credible hip-hop circles - see Ice-T's 'diss' of Soulja Boy), all whilst sounding at least vaguely attuned to popular music and culture. What's more, Obama managed to present himself as in touch with the musical tastes of both the elder 'Motown generation' and contemporary hip-hop fans. Although it’s abundantly clear that Obama identifies far more with the former, it is hard to imagine any other politician pulling off an artistic endorsement quite so deftly. Obama’s qualified endorsement of Jay-Z was also effectively re-enforced by his now infamous reference to the song, ‘Dirt off Your Shoulder’ during a campaign rally.

iv) Jay-Z on Obama: ‘Obama’s running so we all can fly’ and My President is Black

These two separate endorsements highlighted the sheer symbolic significance of a black president. At one point during his public appearance at an Obama rally, Jay-Z breaks off mid-sentence to remind the assembled crowd that Obama’s election could serve as an inspiration to young black Americans by using a young girl in the front row as a fitting example. This clearly highlights the faith that many Americans bestow in the power of individual endeavour. My President is Black further cements Jay-Z’s reputation for perfectly formulated lyrical one-liners, where he raps ‘my president is black, in fact he’s half white, so even in a racist mind he’s half right’. Both endorsements could be described as successes, even if the Obama campaign was at pains to make clear its absolute disagreement with much of Jay-Z’s lyrical content. My President is Black is likely to have been viewed as a thoroughly racist song by ultra-conservatives in the US.

v) Ludacris on Obama: Obama is here

The Obama campaign had little choice but to strongly distance itself from Luda’s Obama is here, seeing as the rapper turns his fire on everyone from Hilary Clinton through to John McCain and George Bush. One suspects that Ludacris would have anticipated the adverse reaction from the Obama campaign to the song, calling it ‘outrageously offensive’. Ultimately, the endorsement probably did more harm than good.