Do we still buy into election anthems? In late May, after Sir Keir Starmer and Rachel Reeves had made their keynote speeches, they made their stage exit to the sound of last year’s woozy summer dance track, ‘Better Times’. It might just have been a coincidence. But when the song emanated out into the atrium of the Co-op’s HQ after Sir Keir’s manifesto speech, it was confirmed: here was the gentle, yet persistent nudge to voters to recreate the magic of Labour’s more definitive 1997 campaign choice, ‘Things Can Only Get Better’ and make ‘Better Times’ the political anthem of 2024.

The idea of a rousing chorus sweeping in a change of guard is nothing new. The Communist Party of Great Britain were convinced of the stimulating effect of song to manifest the betterment of society. In 1939, Britain’s first indie label, Topic released a pressing of the socialist anthem ‘The Internationale’ and five years on, the Workers’ Music Association followed through by publishing the folklorist Albert Lloyd’s The Singing Englishman: An Introduction to Folk Song in the hope of provoking a folk club revolution and a communist awakening in Britain. He and Ewan McColl succeeded in the former, but the latter never came to pass.

It would be all too easy to make a generalist swipe and say music and politics simply don’t work. But there was a time when it did.  Think back to the 80’s and how Labour played it then – their cultural influence was enhanced not by traditional folk song, but by some of the very best and most popular artists in Britain - Red Wedge, an unofficial music arm of the Labour party. It was made up of pure pop acts and musicians who excelled at matching irresistible melody with social commentary, albeit with a light touch – The Style Council, The Communards, Heaven 17, Sade, Bananarama, Madness, The Beat, Junior, Elvis Costello, The The, Tom Robinson, Prefab Sprout, The Smiths, Jerry Dammers and The Blow Monkeys - and for the first time, gave a shimmer of glamour and coolness to party politics. For Neil Kinnock’s 1987 campaign Red Wedge didn’t move the dial, but for young music fans, they were a bonanza collective that succeeded in encouraging political engagement not through ideology, but through the power of pop.

Fast forward to 2019, and some of the UK’s sharpest wordsmiths rallied behind Jeremy Corbyn. Again, Grime4Corbyn failed to win the then Labour leader his premiership, but a single tweet from Stormzy triggered a 236% spike in voter registration in the 18-34 bracket in a single day.

The difference lies in what’s happened over the years since. For one, we have the disenchantment of the electorate. Political anthems only work when they catch a wider spirit. We were full of optimism in the late 90’s but we now look back on that period with bittersweet nostalgia; and for the savvy ‘we know your game’ young electorate of 2024, it’s going to take a lot more than the gentle message of ‘Better Times’ to cement a cohesive conviction. 

The truth is, the political anthem is a diminished force. It has been drowned out by the roar of politics as cheap, gladiatorial entertainment – which is how rolling news has positioned it in this epoch of media addiction. For the time being, perhaps we need a cross-party election song, ABBA’s ‘Take a Chance on Me’, until somehow, some way, our collective faith in politics is restored.