(The’ Us…Anthem’ title only works if you have Us and Them from Dark Side of the Moon stuck in your head, and even then, not really).
Let’s be completely honest here, and I mean total, complete, unfettered, unabashed honesty. I don’t want haughty, showy, faux-patriotism to get in the way of something we all know not-so-deep down: the Australian national anthem sucks.
You can temporarily bristle for the sake of anyone else in the room, but eventually you’ll have to admit that you agree. Take away the sentimentality of what it supposedly represents (that’s Australia, by the way, and not, as one might naturally assume, a confused sense of English heritage), and you’re left with a plodding, quad-tonal mess containing lyrics so bad even Tim Rice would suggest a do-over.
Take the first line: “Australians all let us rejoice, for we are young and free…”
Yes, let’s do let us rejoice. You just know the first draft of that was “Australians all rejoice” until someone noticed they were two syllables short, and dragging “Austrayayalians” out for all its worth wouldn’t cut the mustard, particularly one hundred and seventeen years before the public was treated to the lush tones of Pauline Hanson.
“We’ve golden soil and wealth for toil, our home is girt by sea.” Oh, is it? I always fail to notice the girt when I look at an atlas, but I’ll certainly take the anthem’s word for it. Speaking of which, just what the hell is girt? Looking it up, I am presented with several options. The first is that it’s a past participle of gird, which means to encircle something. So we’re encircled by sea. Citing that as one of our best features is like a flustered real estate agent trying to assure you that the dump he’s selling is “grass adjacent”. The second definition of girt is that it’s “a cutting or critical remark”, as in, “he girded at the suggestion that he sing this awful anthem”. I think I prefer this option. I like the idea that we live in a country that’s frequently insulted by the oceans that surround it. “Golden soil, eh? Wealth for toil? Well, I’m the Pacific Ocean and I much prefer hanging out in California than this hovel.”
Of course, the lyrics aren’t all bad: “In history’s page let every stage advance Australia fair”. I actually like that line, and think it’s the one part of the song we can sing without cowering our heads or pretending we’re from New Zealand. One good line out of an entire song isn’t too bad. Actually, yes, it is.
The lyrics, however, are a damn site better than the music itself, which was composed either by (a) pressing a button on a Casio keyboard, (b) dropping cats on bagpipes and recording the result, or (c) trying to figure out if there was a sequence of notes left that hadn’t already been used by other composers.
Just think about the opening notes. “Bom bom, bom bom, bom bom, bom-bom…” (That’s about as accurate as I can get transcribing music into text. Actually, looking at it, I kind-of wish those were the lyrics. I don’t think I’d be complaining if we got to sing “bom bom” whenever we won a gold medal.)
What do you feel when you hear those tones? Does it inspire you? Does it make you surge with national pride? Does it snap you to your feet like an automated reflex? No. It makes you feel like putting the musicians out of their misery. And yours.
The thing is, not all anthems have to be like this. Some are quite rousing. Say what you like about America, but The Star-Spangled Banner actually feels inspiring, and “rocket’s red glare” is the sort of evocative phrasing you want in an anthem.
Other countries seem able to get it right. For The Gambia, Our Homeland is short, to the point, and doesn’t waste time faffing about. The National Anthem of Yemen actually dispenses with all the forced poetry, and uses its time to pragmatically submit its policy on presidential heritage (“No foreigner shall dominate over Yemen” is its to-the-point final line). And though I may not be the biggest fan of Germany’s Deutschlandlied, it does, to its credit, instantly make me want to hide in an attic in Amsterdam. If you can’t be musical, you can at least try to inspire some fear in everybody around you.
So, what’s the alternative? No, don’t say it. Don’t even think it.
All right, fine. But only think it for the purposes of the argument: Waltzing Matilda.
Apparently, most of the world thinks this our theme song anyway, and it’s certainly played more often than the actual one. Polls suggest many Australians would prefer it as our national anthem, but we’re forgetting that we had our chance. In 1977, there was a referendum to choose the national anthem. Advance Australia Dull won with about 43% of the vote. Waltzing Matilda came in second with around 28%, beating God Save the Queen at 18.78%. The only song worse than God Save the Queen was something called Song of Australia, coming in with 9.65% of the vote. But don’t let this distract you from the real issue: we voted on it, and Waltzing Matilda lost.
Waltzing Matilda, folks, is the only song I consider worse than Advance Australia Fair. As far as I’m concerned, the song has had only one benefit: And The Band Played Walzting Matilda is a song written by Eric Bogle, that was brilliantly incorporated into Tom Waits’ Tom Traubert Blues on his Small Change album. For that fact alone, I can permit Waltzing Matilda to continue its existence. Although, that sort of reasoning is a bit like saying, “Hey, I’m glad the unification of Germany in 1871 aided the collapse of Europe and caused World War One, because I really enjoyed the movie Joyeux Noel.” This is where a sober cost/benefit analysis can come in handy.
It should be said, though, that I do appreciate the sentiment in picking a song like Waltzing Matilda. Australians like to think of themselves as different from the rest, and a song about a cattle rustler drowning after being caught by the cops would certainly solidify our reputation as the country that Does Its Own Thing, but it’s just the wrong song. Look, if I’m honest, I don’t actually hate the song itself. It’s more that I hate what it’s become, what we’ve managed to warp it into. It’s now an overplayed, distorted bastardisation of its former self, and I’m pretty much sick of hearing it stretched over montages that are trying to remind me what it’s like to be Australian on Australia Day. Green zinc on the nose, barbequed sausages, alcoholism, some sheep stealing, and a police pursuit. Gotcha.
The idea that anthems have to be written in a set style – you know, the sort of thing that can be played by an unrehearsed brass band at a moment’s notice – is an archaic one. If we want to mix it up, we need to go with something that will blow the other anthems out of the water. Naturally, it would be sheer academia unless I had some suggestions of my own to throw into the mix. So, here we go…
1. I STILL CALL AUSTRALIA HOME
This song is in danger of being overplayed as well, but it’s still miles upon miles ahead of our current anthem. There’s a genuine sense of yearning as songwriter Peter Allen sings about traveling the world and ends with, “Some day we’ll all be together once more…” which works much better when a lot of Qantas-sponsored children are singing it earnestly than when I type it here. Of course, a lot of people consider the song’s sentimentality to be redundant given Allen wrote it during his long stint living in the USA, but given absence has long been established as the leading cause of heart fondness, I think this just reinforces the message.
2. SOUNDS OF THEN
You probably know it better as This Is Australia, its unofficial title. The chorus goes like this:
Out on the patio we’d sit
And the humidity we’d breathe
We’d watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think, this is Australia…
Now, even if you don’t live on a canefield and can’t identify directly with these lyrics (personally, I’ve never lived on one, and yet I still feel like I know exactly what they’re talking about) there is a distinct Australian feel to this song. It’s not some haughty “We respectfully acknowledge the glory of our coal reserves” – the sort of overly-delicate lyrics than permeate most national anthems – but it has the sort of incredibly specific humidity/canefield references that seem oddly universal. Or, at least, country-versal. It’s also got this really cool low beat to it that makes it sound a bit dangerous. Forget your haka (which isn’t actually the New Zealand national anthem anyway), this would scare the crap out of nations who are themselves struggling with a marching band performing some atonal 3/4 nightmare.
3. I AM AUSTRALIAN
This one is a tough sell. It’s written by Bruce Woodley (from The Seekers) and Dobe Newton (from The Bushwackers), and has that high-minded anthem-y rubbish that I’ve been railing against during this whole piece.
We are one, but we are many
And from all the lands on earth we come
We share a dream, and sing with one voice
I am, you are, we are Australian…
Yes, I know. You’d have to really bend the parametres of “brilliance” for this song to come close to qualifying. Still, the point is to find something superior to our actual national anthem, and this scrapes through on a technicality. Barely. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jD3SkTyXzcE&feature=related
4. DOWN UNDER
Yes, you’ve been waiting for me to get to this one, haven’t you? This is the obvious choice. The fact that one of its writers is Scottish shouldn’t make a difference (although it does feel more fitting, and I’m not sure why). The tone of the song is so incredibly flippant and yet completely serious, and so fits our national attitude perfectly. Also, who doesn’t want “chunder” in their national anthem? This gets my vote.
5. GREAT SOUTHERN LAND
That dangerous deep sound I talked about with Sounds of Then also applies here. I have absolutely no idea what this song is about, but hearing Iva Davies singing Great Southern Land in the chorus is good enough for me. I’d salute this.
6. AUSTRALIA (THE SHINS)
There’s nothing in the lyrics to suggest this has anything to do with Australia itself. When it comes down to it, however, I’d be happy combining the chic coolness of a US indie rock band singing a song entitled Australia, with the hilarity that will come during Important Events, as visiting dignitaries wonder why we’re standing to sing a song about what I understand is a very sad girl in her 20s. And why not? Sad girls in their 20s is certainly what Australia meant to me for a brief period of my life post-University. (I don’t want to talk about it.)
That is, I feel, a fairly reasonable shortlist, and one that we can be moderately proud of. Of course, no Government would ever dare put forward any of the above, and so these suggestions are rather useless. That is why I’m going to suggest something that the Government (well, the Government as headed by Malcolm Fraser) would deem worthy.
Remember that obscure Song of Australia that received less than 10% of the popular vote during that 1977 referendum? The lyrics, written by poet Caroline J. Carleton, are as follows:
There is a land where summer skies, Are gleaming with a thousand dyes, Blending in witching harmonies, in harmonies; And grassy knoll, and forest height, Are flushing in the rosy light, And all above is azure bright — Australia! Australia! Australia! There is a land where, floating free, From mountain top to girdling sea, A proud flag waves exultingly, exultingly; And Freedom’s sons the banners bear, No shackled slave can breathe the air, Fairest of Britain’s daughters fair — Australia! There is a land where honey flows, Where laughing corn luxuriant grows, Land of the myrtle and the rose, land of the rose; On hill and plain the clust’ring vine Is gushing out with purple wine, And cups are quaffed to thee and thine — Australia!
Not terribly impressed? Now read them again, but do so to the tune of, say, The White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army. Now that’s a national anthem.
