It's well known that the melody of "The Star-Spangled Banner" originated as a drinking song titled "To Anacreon in Heaven" (perhaps less well known is the name of its composer, John Stafford Smith). Now, it's perfectly true that in the 18th century, drinking songs aspired to a more elevated level of utterance than, say, "Let's Roll Out the Barrel"; but still, there's no denying that this particular song, high-toned sentiment and classical references notwithstanding, began its life as a paean to the rollicking joys of inebriation. As such, its stately periods seem weirdly inappropriate, at least to modern ears.
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StumbleUponFrancis Scott Key was familiar with the original and stated explicitly that it was the melody he had in his head when he wrote his lyric. The wedding of words and music was not a later generation's handiwork, as is sometimes supposed.
Although regularly played on ceremonial occasions thereafter, "The Star-Spangled Banner" wasn't officially designated the national anthem of the United States until 1931. And the choice has always been controversial. Much of the controversy centers on its singability. The song's range spans a twelfth; this is stretch even for professional vocalists, and for amateurs it's close to impossible. If you begin in a key high enough so that the bottom note can be reached relatively comfortably, you'll need rappelling equipment for the top note. We're all familiar with the shrill screech customary at the song's climactic point.
Still, if one disregards this one small problem, it's an attractive and stirring tune. Some of its appeal resides in its frequent recourse to the chord II (that is, the major form of the triad formed on the second degree of the scale, with sharpened third), directing us toward the dominant; this occurs in the melodic line on the second syllable of the word "early," the third syllable of "perilous," and the word "still" in the phrase "our flag was still there." It also occurs implicitly, in the accompanying harmony, at other points. It lends the song a striving, assertive quality that seems entirely fitting to a proud patriotic statement.
We're all familiar with the version played on grand political occasions and at sporting events. Here's a good example.
There's no denying it makes you want to stand up and put your hand over your heart. But some of us may find its martial spirit a little off-putting and just a tad pompous. It's a rendition that may befit a superpower, but for some of us, superpower status plays a negligible role in our love of country. So instead, consider this version for the expression of a somewhat more intimate kind of patriotism.
Not bad.
But for me, the real clincher is the following, composed in 1941 by Igor Stravinsky as an expression of gratitude upon becoming an American citizen. A recent immigrant from a war-ravaged Europe (and like many Russians of his generation, his wanderings had begun during the Russian civil war and had taken him all over the continent), Stravinsky wanted to offer some form of tribute. He wanted to express his appreciation for his new home and for the welcoming freedom it offered him. Ironically, this act of creative civic piety was treated by some as a travesty and actually got him briefly arrested! But it was sincerely intended: He regarded the melody as intrinsically beautiful, beautiful, that is, in itself, and not merely for its political associations (he called it a "beautiful, sacred anthem"). His bold re-harmonization, heard here in an arrangement for men's chorus—there is also a wonderful orchestral version—shows us why.
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Reader Comments From The Fray:
[Notes from the Fray Editor: Joseph Britt also commented on Erik Tarloff's remarks on the Fray; in fact Mr Tarloff is a very experienced Fray-watcher--see also BML's post here. BML also introduced the tangential but deeply fascinating topic of songs about states, here, while Urquhart revealed that Tennessee has six official state songs.]
Has it occurred to anyone else that Americans tend to regard singing the way our colonial ancestors regarded combat--as something anyone can do without any training or discipline, based on their natural ability? I think of this every time I hear someone moaning about how hard "The Star-Spangled Banner" (or, for that matter, "O Holy Night") is to sing. It's certainly a challenge, but challenges can be mastered by most people with a little practice and the right technique.
It goes back to the lamentable low standard of musical education in the public schools, a product of the soft bigotry of low musical expectations. It may be that currently popular music that is designed only to be danced to, not sung along with, bears some responsibility also. Thankfully no one has suggested we ought to have a national anthem we can dance to, not even in The Fray.
--Joseph Britt
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I have to cast my vote with Josh on this one. Despite its terminal hootenanny connotations, "This Land" as a national anthem would be a defining break with the pseudo-arch prosody of nationalistic anthems, and would be in fact the first democratic people's anthem in history. Is that worth something?
Forget Pete Seeger and the debacles of the American Communist Party's Stalinization for a minute and think about the real progeny of Guthrie's road-minstrel folk revival: the entire boom baby generation. We came of age in a landscape where geiger counters were replacing rosaries, and the language of Dick and Jane had replaced the Bible and McGuffy's reader as our entree to literacy. We made out to the lyrics of doo-wop and had our moral awakenings in the turgid prose of surgeon-general's warnings.
We don't need, nor can we parse, the locutions of the founding fathers. While I was growing up, I didn't know anyone who could have paraphrased "The Star Spangled Banner," or glossed it beyond "something about rockets and our flag, kind of tattered, some battle. Baltimore?"
"God Bless America" is the song of Lion's Clubs and Rotary lunches, tent revivals and mall openings. It is for my generation an evocation of black and white rotoscope images of Milton Berle and Pearl Bailey. There is something contrived and reminiscent of gastro-intestinal finales at fund raisers and school auditoriums. It is the song of an ersatz America, a formulaic tin-pan populism that never really reaches beyond the footlights into the junk drawers, closets, photo albums and reveries of a real America.
I know that "TLIYL" will never become our national anthem. But it is a song closer to the dead center of the bell curve of true American sentiment than any of the others mentioned here.
--Zeitguy
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