Life was so much simpler before TV and radio took over political campaigns. Back in the Olden Days, candidates relied on songs to help them get the word out and get elected. Imagine if that were still true– would Clinton have been elected on the strength of Fleetwood Mac’s “Don’t Stop Thinkin’ About Tomorrow?” I doubt it.

Anyway, this is a collection of campaign songs from days of yore, ranging from 1800 with Jefferson’s Anti-Adams ditty about Fair and Free Elections, up through a lively Irishoid ballad for Kennedy. In between are snippets of ephemera sung by an uncredited group of people, complete with brass bands, barbershop quartets, banjo pickin’ and women with abnormally shrill voices.

Inside is a nice little lyric booklet that spends a paragraph or two putting each of the different songs in a historical context for you non-history buffs out there. On the back cover is a startling array of facts detailing the readership of Life magazine. For example, did you know that 26.6% of all US females 18 and older per average issue read Life (at least in 1964)? I bet you didn’t. I’m not exactly sure what this has to do with presidential elections, but it makes for good reading, I suppose. The inside has similar commentary on Life.

When I hear the name “Spiro Agnew,” the first thing that comes to mind is the fact it’s an anagram for “grow a penis.” Thus said, aside from the fact that he was the VP under Nixon, I know absolutely nothing about the man.

Now, with this record, I got a small glimpse into the heart and soul of the man himself. I got a glimpse, and it’s a dark, sinister place. In this record (the collector’s edition, I suppose to distinguish it from the regular, mainstream edition), we get to hear speeches about how everyone but the Republican Party sucks, and how everyone’s crazy and on drugs except for our noble leaders, all wrapped up in a nice little really boring package.

Public speaking wasn’t one of Spiro’s strong points, if you go by these recordings. He sputters and hesitates in odd places. The audience, however, ranges from seeming politely amused to whooping (yes, someone actually yells “YEEE HAW!” at one point) and cheering. However, the most enthusiastic person on this record is the uncredited announcer. The announcer serves as kind of a Spiro cheerleader, just in case you couldn’t follow what the VP was saying, since his speeches are layered with obtuse, wordy rhetoric and convoluted sentence structures.

Occasionally Spiro will lash out at someone, or more likely a faceless entity, like Democrats, hippies, Communists, or dissenters in general. I think the only time delivers a personal dis is to former President Johnson. Oh snap! Basically, he comes across as being pretty full of hatred, and blanketly labels dissenters as un-patriotic. Hmm. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? The ironic thing is, he disses all the people who have a negative view of America, and who can only see its bad points. Hmmm, pot, kettle what now?
What’s scary about this is how relevant this record is today. When Mr. Agnew talks about people being against the Vietnam War and insinuates how they are all unpatriotic spoiled brats, he could be speaking about the Iraq situation today. Don’t forget to listen to the cut where he gets to demonstrate his wit! I have no idea what he’s talking about, but apparently it’s funny.

Damn hippies

I was born in Syracuse NY, and lived in the hickest hicklands and most wasted post-industrial wastelands Central NY has to offer. I remember being forced to sing ditties such as “The Erie Canal” and one that mentions “trip[ping] the light fantastic on the sidewalks of New York.” This inspired my 3rd-grade mind to wonder what the hell was tripping the light fantastic? What the hell kind of name is “Mamie O’Rourke?” And “Who names a mule Sal?”

Anyway, though I’ve sung about New York, I most certainly didn’t love it.

Conversely, sometimes when I jouney home from Boston into the hills and valleys of home, I see the lakes and fields and trailers with dogs tied to rusty trans Ams in the front yard, and think “I love NY.” After all, you can’t get a decent Cortland apple or a strawberry not grown in California here in Boston.

However, for all my singing about New York and loving New York, I was never inspired to love NY AND sing about it at the same time. Fortunately for me, Mr. Robin Schade (aka the New York Troubadour) does just that.

This album boasts that it has “Songs of NY State–the legends, lore, geography, history… people, places events.” OK, if this album is such a celebration of the great Empire State, then why the fuck are they leaving the guitar playing up to Ron “Wichita” Casler? The last time I checked, Wichita was not in NY (though Mexico, Greece, Egypt, Amsterdam, Poland, Philadelphia and Valhalla are).

Anyway, this album is a rollicking good time, celebrating the land of my birth with sagas such as “Ride on Loomis Gang,” (“the exploits of this notorious band of outlaws of the last century seems to be limited to Central NY State”) and hideously catchy songs like “Utica Oh Utica.” Aside from producing shitty beer and Annette Funicello, Utica has no point to existing on this planet. Even Kurt Vonnegut doesn’t have anything positive to say about the place. However, Robin Schade (“schade” means “bad” or “harm” in German, as in “that’s too bad”–coincidence?) asserts that Utica is actually “I Love NY’s heart.”

Don’t forget the insideously hook-filled title song (“I Love New York… And I Sing About It!”). If you are not singing along by the second chorus, you are probably either deaf, or are an evil NY-hating terrorist.

Available for the first time! It’s like having your aged right-wing grandfather harrangue you– in stereo! Angry Conservative rants concerning smelly hippies and draft-dodgers, read by professional voice-over talent, layered over a bizzare mix of easy listening music. Bubbling with hate and mellow tunes, the total effect is surreal, dated and topical, all at once. Just begging to be put into somebody’s video project or mashup album.

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Want to see the back cover?

Because nothing says “NOW” quite like a busty sixty-something in a sequined magenta muu-muu, here’s Kate Smith singing a selection of the squarest hits of the 60′s– dig those strings, man! Kate blasts her way through 11 classics, trying hard not to make them all sound like “God Bless America.” Sadly, a lot of big stars from the 40′s and 50′s tried making these “hip” records, with little success.

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