“Happy days are here again
The skies above are clear again
So let's sing a song of cheer again
Happy days are here again.”—“Happy Days Are Here Again,” lyrics by Jack Yellen, music by Milton Ager (1929)
Arguably the jauntiest tune of the Great Depression was copyrighted on this date in 1929, a week and a half after the stock market had experienced its great crash. “Happy Days Are Here Again” was created by a pair of collaborators who were deeply unhappy with each other, only to see their song embraced by a country in desperate need of hope. It was almost as if America believed that, by singing that happy days had come back already, it would do so.
Jack Yellen and Milton Ager had already written “Ain’t She Sweet?”, but at this point in their relationship they weren’t exactly sweet on each other. They thought they had wrapped up work already on Chasing Rainbows, the kind of musical that Hollywood was embracing in its typical lemming-like fashion after a hit (in this case, The Jazz Singer), when they were told by MGM production head Irving Thalberg (the inspiration for Monroe Stahr, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Last Tycoon) that they needed to come up with another song.
Yellen and Ager dashed off this ditty in a half hour, ensuring that they’d see as little as possible of each other. After all that, the studio deep-sixed Chasing Rainbows for several years, it was so bad. But the songwriters decided to make lemon out of lemonade.
George Olson tried it out with his orchestra on Black Thursday, when the stock market shook to its foundations. To his amazement, diners at the Hotel Pennsylvania began singing along (albeit sardonically) with the vocalist.
Arguably the jauntiest tune of the Great Depression was copyrighted on this date in 1929, a week and a half after the stock market had experienced its great crash. “Happy Days Are Here Again” was created by a pair of collaborators who were deeply unhappy with each other, only to see their song embraced by a country in desperate need of hope. It was almost as if America believed that, by singing that happy days had come back already, it would do so.
Jack Yellen and Milton Ager had already written “Ain’t She Sweet?”, but at this point in their relationship they weren’t exactly sweet on each other. They thought they had wrapped up work already on Chasing Rainbows, the kind of musical that Hollywood was embracing in its typical lemming-like fashion after a hit (in this case, The Jazz Singer), when they were told by MGM production head Irving Thalberg (the inspiration for Monroe Stahr, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Last Tycoon) that they needed to come up with another song.
Yellen and Ager dashed off this ditty in a half hour, ensuring that they’d see as little as possible of each other. After all that, the studio deep-sixed Chasing Rainbows for several years, it was so bad. But the songwriters decided to make lemon out of lemonade.
George Olson tried it out with his orchestra on Black Thursday, when the stock market shook to its foundations. To his amazement, diners at the Hotel Pennsylvania began singing along (albeit sardonically) with the vocalist.
A few days later, on Black Tuesday, the Casa Loma Orchestra recorded it at the OKeh recording studio on Union Square in New York. Two miles to the south, on Wall Street, stockbrokers were losing their minds and ordinary Americans their life savings.
Yellen and Ager’s hit became the theme song for the 1932 Presidential campaign of Franklin D. Roosevelt. Of the two major-party candidates, FDR (in the accompanying photo, in a characteristic pose of the time) was the one more temperamentally suited to employ it.
President Herbert Hoover (or, as H.L. Mencken termed him, “Lord Hoover”) was the last person who could have used this song—and not just because the economy cratered on his watch. As a relentlessly methodical engineer, he was utterly humor-challenged. The only place he ever looked happy was in a stream, fishing.
In contrast, FDR understood the implicit appeal of the song: a willing suspension of disbelief. After his devastating bout with polio, perpetuating the illusion of vigor was how he functioned at all in politics. Sure, people had read about his struggle, but his aides ensured (with the help of a respectful, even quiescent, press) that photos of him in a wheelchair would be rare.
Yellen and Ager’s hit became the theme song for the 1932 Presidential campaign of Franklin D. Roosevelt. Of the two major-party candidates, FDR (in the accompanying photo, in a characteristic pose of the time) was the one more temperamentally suited to employ it.
President Herbert Hoover (or, as H.L. Mencken termed him, “Lord Hoover”) was the last person who could have used this song—and not just because the economy cratered on his watch. As a relentlessly methodical engineer, he was utterly humor-challenged. The only place he ever looked happy was in a stream, fishing.
In contrast, FDR understood the implicit appeal of the song: a willing suspension of disbelief. After his devastating bout with polio, perpetuating the illusion of vigor was how he functioned at all in politics. Sure, people had read about his struggle, but his aides ensured (with the help of a respectful, even quiescent, press) that photos of him in a wheelchair would be rare.
Before he could grow the economy, he had to urge Americans to act with the same confidence he displayed, against all rational belief.
I’m sure that some Republican President, at some time since then, has become associated with a popular song (after all, Eisenhower and Nixon were advised by such shrewd media advisers as the actor Robert Montgomery and Roger Ailes, future ringmaster of Fox News). But for the life of me, I can’t think of one right now.
Aides to several Democratic Presidents, on the other hand, have shrewdly chosen campaign themes for their bosses:
* “High Hopes,” for John F. Kennedy (no doubt with input from Frank Sinatra, who sang the Sammy Cahn-Jimmy Van Heusen Oscar-winning song in the Frank Capra film, A Hole in the Head, then performed it again, with slightly rewritten lyrics by the composers, for his good friend).
* “Don’t Stop (Thinking About Tomorrow),” for Bill Clinton, even though, according to the President’s speechwriter (and—full disclosure!—my college friend) Mike Waldman, in his memoir POTUS Speaks, many on the staff didn’t like the Fleetwood Mac tune.
* “Inside of You” was the official theme song of Barack Obama’s campaign, but I’m more partial to “The Rising” and “Working on a Dream,” by Bruce Springsteen. (I can’t see how any future President can improve on a tune by The Boss, can you?)
I’m sure that some Republican President, at some time since then, has become associated with a popular song (after all, Eisenhower and Nixon were advised by such shrewd media advisers as the actor Robert Montgomery and Roger Ailes, future ringmaster of Fox News). But for the life of me, I can’t think of one right now.
Aides to several Democratic Presidents, on the other hand, have shrewdly chosen campaign themes for their bosses:
* “High Hopes,” for John F. Kennedy (no doubt with input from Frank Sinatra, who sang the Sammy Cahn-Jimmy Van Heusen Oscar-winning song in the Frank Capra film, A Hole in the Head, then performed it again, with slightly rewritten lyrics by the composers, for his good friend).
* “Don’t Stop (Thinking About Tomorrow),” for Bill Clinton, even though, according to the President’s speechwriter (and—full disclosure!—my college friend) Mike Waldman, in his memoir POTUS Speaks, many on the staff didn’t like the Fleetwood Mac tune.
* “Inside of You” was the official theme song of Barack Obama’s campaign, but I’m more partial to “The Rising” and “Working on a Dream,” by Bruce Springsteen. (I can’t see how any future President can improve on a tune by The Boss, can you?)
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