Is the world ready for Ed Davey in a Christmas jumper, putting up tinsel with choristers, alongside violinists in reindeer antlers? The Liberal Democrat leader has joined the Bath Philharmonia to produce a Christmas charity single, Love Is Enough, in what appears to be a first for a main political party leader.
Written by young carers and former carers, the song is in aid of Carers Trust and the Bath Philharmonia (as a teenager, Davey nursed his mother when she had terminal cancer). Some might think, with all that bungee-jumping and paddleboarding in the run-up to the general election, we’ve already seen quite enough of “cuddly Ed” in 2024.
But wait! Accompanied by a charming, homespun video, Love Is Enough is a sweet, uplifting song, in which Davey’s gutsy vocals appear to be mysteriously reserved (Sidelined? Never!) as an occasional garnish.
If Love Is Enough wants to be your 2024 festive heart-melter, the competition is fierce. There’s The Celebs (including ex-boxer Frank Bruno and Love Island alumni) belting out All You Need is Love for Great Ormond Street hospital; the 18-artist Primal Live project in aid of Liverpool’s Whitechapel Centre for the homeless, and more … many more.
Still, is the charity single (the concept, the vibe, the fundraising flex) in danger of losing its cultural footing? Now more than 50 years old, could it be having a midlife crisis?
Late Beatle George Harrison produced the first recognised charity single with Bangla Desh in 1971, raising money for Unicef to help those affected by the Bhola cyclone and the Bangladesh Liberation war. In 1984, Band Aid’s Do They Know It’s Christmas? was organised by Bob Geldof and Midge Ure for Ethiopian famine relief. Setting the charity single template (big stars, draughty-looking recording studio, inveterate sharing of microphones), Band Aid has been revamped every decade since.
The latest 40th anniversary edition of Do They Know It’s Christmas?, out last week, has failed to enter the Top 40 so far, sitting at No 45.
But the original is still only outsold in the UK by another charity single, Elton John’s Candle In the Wind, 1997, released to mark Diana, Princess of Wales’s death. Band Aid inspired the 1985 stateside effort We Are The World, for which a scrum of A-list artists (including Stevie Wonder, Lionel Richie and Cyndi Lauper) were notably instructed to “check your ego at the door”. Since then, it has been non-stop, with musical fundraising for such causes as the Grenfell Tower fire, the Zeebrugge ferry disaster, Aids research, and, recently, the Trussell Trust food bank charity, courtesy of LadBaby spoofs such as We Built This City (On Sausage Rolls).
In the UK, pop and charity have become fused symbiotically in the public imagination, facilitated by telethons such as Comic Relief and Children in Need. Though for every intriguing re-reading of a classic (Lou Reed’s Perfect Day, featuring Reed, David Bowie, et al), there have been a clutch of make-it-stop horrors: 1991’s novelty-record bloodbath, The Stonk by Hale And Pace; The X Factor finalists’ 2010 nightmarishly ritzy and corporate cover of Bowie’s Heroes. Indeed, as time has gone by, the impression has been that charity singles do better when they look spontaneous, homemade, disorganised, non-manufactured – basically as non-Simon-Cowelled as possible.
How long can this bandwagon keep creaking along, the cynically minded may wonder. Isn’t the public weary of being preached at by self-aggrandising pop stars, who think arriving at a studio in a clapped-out minicab makes them look humble and “street”?
Over the years, there have also been cyclical complaints that the Band Aid behemoth is ethically dubious: stereotyping the diverse expanse of Africa and propagating a western saviour complex. On the recent anniversary, Ed Sheeran, citing a critical post by the artist, Fuse ODG, said he’d not been approached for permission to re-use his 2014 Band Aid contribution for the 2024 mix, where it appears; and, had he been asked, he would have “respectfully declined”. For his part, Geldof says multitudes in Africa are still in need: “That little pop song has kept millions alive.”
Ironically, Band Aid could lay claim to being the least cynical of all charity singles: no one involved could have guessed what it would become. However, for some, disenchantment extends beyond Band Aid to all such endeavours. Once hailed as a scepticism-resistant medium spanning demographics, the charity single is now periodically condemned as an act of creative torpor and industry calculation. Critics abhor everything from the celebrity-philanthropy to charity big business to the over-simplification of complex issues. The rationale being: why not just swerve the whole shebang and donate directly to the cause?
The changing times could be part of the problem. Unlike with Band Aid, there’s no physical single for a hands-on buzz. Rather, it’s a complicated, slightly sterile business involving downloads, streams, subscription services … be still, your beating altruistic heart!
Arguably, there’s also been a shift in us: the cash-strapped Brits. According to the 2024 Charities Aid Foundation’s World Giving Index, the UK has fallen out of the top 20 of the world’s most generous countries (a decade ago, we came sixth).
So, why do the fundraising singles keep coming? Short answer: charities are desperate for your help. Talking last week of the current crisis in Sudan, the new UN undersecretary general for humanitarian affairs, Tom Fletcher, despaired of how difficult it was to get attention from the public and to raise money. Elsewhere, high-profile fundraising avenues are closing.
Disparage Cowell all we like, the big-hitting X Factor Christmas charity single is no more. LadBaby retired. Valid as some criticisms of Band Aid have undoubtedly been, one might pause to wonder how critics propose to replace 40 years of international charity infrastructure?
If the charity single disappeared, what would replace it? Cake sales? Fun-runs? That’s a lot of self-raising flour and some very tired legs. Over the years, the charity single has been mocked, deplored, and criticised, but perhaps it’s still very much needed.
What’s more, if the way forward is fewer glitzy power ballads and more grassroots TLC, maybe Davey (albeit accidentally, and with considerable help from the talent) has produced the perfect charity single for right now.
