The passing of Gough Whitlam has reminded me of many things. How free tertiary education helped many escape the cycle of poverty. That free medical care for all is worth protecting. It has also reminded me of the power of the arts and of a good political campaign song.
For every montage that celebrates Gough’s life over the next few days and weeks, the soundtrack will be the same: It’s Time, the Labor Party campaign song of 1972 that saw a who’s who of Australian personalities (sporting and cultural) singing along, accompanied by a particularly funky bass line, some fabulously bouffant 70s hairstyles and some seriously tight skivvies. In my dreams, I imagine all the participants all rushed off to a key party post recording. It’s that good.
These catchy political tunes and group singalongs are, sadly, no more. The bulk of what gets served up at election time are solemn advertisements full of serious voices telling us how everything the other lot do is wrong and how everyone on the other side is bad. It’s pretty depressing.
Where are the uplifting ditties about what we can all do to make things better? Imagine if next election we saw Tony Abbott sing with gung-ho enthusiasm about his love of coal or Bill Shorten belt out a moving ditty about how he stands by the government “on some issues”? This absence of song is indicative of an era where politics itself seems particularly artless – in more ways than one.
I was but a babe in arms when Australians were singing along to It’s Time, but it strikes me that in the 1970s and 80s there was wide eyed enthusiasm for our country’s future over the current preference for naval gazing and an irrational fear of the outside.
Have we forgotten that Australians used to love writing a song to get everyone involved? We had footy songs at home (the VFL’s Up There Cazaly) and songs for events that showcased our wares to everyone else (Together We’ll Show The World at the World Expo 88 in Brisbane). Sure, these songs for all occasions sound like they’ve been penned by a jingle writer who advertorials on regional TV (in the case of It’s Time and Up There Cazaly, they were), but at least we had a go at having some fun.
These days, political power brokers go the lazy and/or stealth route and steal an already established song by a famous artist, which tells nothing of the politicians’ true intent. The pollies then wait to see how long it takes to be served with a cease and desist court order for appropriating it.
A good old hearty singalong could win votes and do the long-suffering public wonders. Singing is medically proven to make people feel better. A campaign song might lift us all out of the quagmire of negativity, fear-mongering and anger that has infected the Australian political and media landscape for so long.
And if Tony and his political mates are yet to be convinced of getting campaign songs back on the agenda, I offer this: There are plenty of words that rhyme with “No cuts”.
Oh, I forgot, that was for the last election. My bad.
