Mitch McConnell’s flaccid remarks at the open have set the tone so far tonight; it’s been a series of dull speeches — so dull that I’ve actually contemplated the less-than-crucial issue of political convention music.
Has there ever been any political convention musical performance that wasn’t instantly forgettable? Earlier tonight, some aging rocker with an ’80s haircut and a leather jacket actually tried to perform something that sounded like a rock song. Imagine, trying to perform a rock song under such circumstances! An outsider, bad boy, anti-establishment musical form gets awkwardly transplanted into an event that is the essence of the establishment — it is called a convention, after all — and photos of some prancing rocker, jazz combo or hip hop band are intercut with the spastic swaying and fitful dance moves of the conventioneers. And we learn that, however convention delegates are selected, it’s not for their dancing prowess.
It’s bad enough for those of us watching . . . imagine how unpleasant it must be for the performers.