Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and anyone else Trump claims to be representing in his quest to “Make America Great Again,” it appears that the man with the biggest mouth and the tiniest hands has hit yet another sour note. No, it’s not about another phone call with a foreign leader or some questionable business dealing — this time, it’s about music. Yes, music, the universal language that unites us all — unless, of course, you’re Donald Trump, in which case it’s the language that makes artists run for their cease-and-desist letters faster than you can say “alternative facts.”
The self-proclaimed billionaire — who can’t afford a decent hairpiece or the self-awareness to stop referring to himself in the third person — has developed a unique hobby. Forget golf, which is a struggle for him. Forget real estate deals that may or may not exist. No, Donald Trump has taken up the fine art of musical theft. But not just any theft, mind you. This thievery is the kind of theft that would make even the most unscrupulous car thief blush. This is theft with a twist — using other people’s music to drum up support at rallies for a political campaign that, judging by the artists’ reactions, is as welcome as a skunk at a garden party.
Let’s start with a story with more twists and turns than a rollercoaster designed by an over-caffeinated six-year-old. Our tale begins with Adele, the British powerhouse who gave us hits like “Rolling in the Deep” and “Skyfall.” These songs struck a chord with Trump, who decided they were the perfect soundtrack for his campaign. Little did he know that Adele’s music, while ideal for long, reflective walks along the cliffs of Dover, is not so perfect for rallying up the MAGA crowd. When Adele heard her music being used to prop up policies that she likely wouldn’t endorse even in her worst nightmares, she quickly said, “Not today, Donald.”
But Adele is just the opening act in this absurd opera. The headliner, of course, is Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler, who has sent Trump more cease-and-desist letters than Trump has sent tweets at 3 AM. Tyler was particularly miffed when Trump started using “Dream On” at rallies. Now, I don’t want to speak for Steven Tyler, but I think it’s safe to say that the last thing he wanted was for his legendary anthem to become the unofficial theme song for a campaign that, much like Trump himself, seems to be based on a dream that has long since turned into a nightmare. And really, who could blame Tyler? If you wrote “Dream On,” would you want it to be associated with someone who seems to have confused the American Dream with a series of increasingly bizarre reality TV show episodes?
And let’s not forget the Rolling Stones. When Trump used “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” at his rallies, it was a moment of such poetic irony that even Mick Jagger probably had to sit down and take a moment. The Stones objected, of course, but Trump, in his usual style, just kept rolling right along. Perhaps he thought the lyrics were a nod to his supporters who, like the rest of us, certainly haven’t gotten what they want — or deserve — in these last few years. But here’s the thing: you can’t always get what you want, especially when using someone else’s music without their permission.
And then there’s Queen’s “We Are the Champions,” used by Trump during the Republican National Convention. I can only imagine Freddie Mercury rolling over in his grave, adjusting his mustache, and muttering, “Darlings, we did not write this song for a man who thinks humility is a brand of cologne.” The band made it clear that Trump’s use of their music was unauthorized and against their wishes, which, as we all know, is Trump-speak for “Let’s play it one more time!”
REM joined the chorus of objections when Trump used “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” as his campaign jingle. Now, it’s one thing to use a song that vaguely resonates with the apocalyptic mood of your campaign, but it’s quite another to use it without asking the band’s permission. Michael Stipe, never one to mince words, made it clear that Trump’s politics were as welcome to him as a three-day-old tuna sandwich. Yet, despite the objections, Trump’s campaign kept the tune in rotation, perhaps under the impression that the world-ending undertones perfectly encapsulated his vision for the future.
Then there’s the case of Neil Young. Ah, Neil, the man who brought us “Rockin’ in the Free World,” a song that, in any other context, might have been the perfect anthem for a political campaign. However, when Trump used it, Neil quickly pointed out that the song was a critique of American society’s failures, not a celebration. He might as well have been singing, “Keep on rockin’ in the free world… just not at my rallies, Donald.”
When “I Won’t Back Down” was used at a Trump rally, Tom Petty’s estate was not too pleased. As Petty’s family pointed out, the song was meant to unite people, not divide them. One can only imagine Petty, somewhere in the great beyond, shaking his head and saying, “Well, you tried, Donald, but even you can’t twist my words into something they’re not.”
Bruce Springsteen — America’s Everyman, the Boss — was another artist inadvertently dragged into the Trump campaign’s playlist. Springsteen, who has never been shy about his political views, made it clear that his music would not be used as a rallying cry for a man whose policies he publicly criticized. “Born to Run”? Not if Bruce has anything to say about it.
And then there’s Elton John, who discovered that Trump had been using “Rocket Man” and “Tiny Dancer” at his rallies. Now, I’m no expert on musical interpretations. Still, I’m confident that when Elton penned these classics, he wasn’t envisioning a septuagenarian billionaire using them to fire up a crowd of supporters who think climate change is a hoax. Elton was quick to voice his disapproval, but once again, Trump’s campaign carried on, blissfully unaware — or unconcerned — that the artists whose music they were hijacking wanted nothing to do with them.
Prince’s estate also had something to say when Trump started using “Purple Rain” at rallies. Prince, who was as fiercely protective of his music as his privacy, would have likely been horrified to see his work co-opted by a campaign that couldn’t be further from his values. The estate objected, but in true Trump fashion, Trump seemed to believe that possession is nine-tenths of the law, even regarding intellectual property.
Pharrell Williams, too, found himself in the crosshairs when Trump used “Happy” at a rally, particularly after a tragic shooting. Williams, who had likely hoped his song would be a force for good in the world, was understandably appalled. A cease-and-desist letter was sent, but as we’ve seen, those have about as much impact on Trump as a strong wind has on his hair.
Rihanna was another artist who found her music being used at Trump rallies without her permission. Rihanna, whose brand is as far from Trump’s values as you can get, made it clear that she did not want her music associated with his campaign. But did Trump listen? Of course not. After all, when you’re the “chosen one,” rules are merely suggestions, right?
Guns N’ Roses’ Axl Rose was similarly outraged when Trump started using their music. Rose, who has never been one to hold back his opinions, made it clear that his band wanted nothing to do with Trump’s administration. But, as we’ve come to expect, Trump’s campaign kept rocking in all the wrong ways.
Ozzy Osbourne, the Prince of Darkness himself, was yet another artist who found his music used at Trump rallies. You might think that a song like “Crazy Train” would be right up Trump’s alley, but Osbourne wasn’t having it. He objected, stating that the use was unauthorized and that he did not endorse Trump. One can only imagine Ozzy’s reaction when he heard his music blasting at a Trump rally — probably something along the lines of, “Sharon, what’s this bollocks?”
And let’s not forget Linkin Park, whose song “In the End” was used in a Trump campaign video. The band quickly sent a cease-and-desist letter, pointing out that they did not support Trump’s re-election campaign. The irony here, of course, is that the chorus of “In the End” goes, “I tried so hard and got so far, but in the end, it doesn’t even matter.” Perhaps it is a fitting epitaph for Trump’s legal battles.
Even ABBA, the Swedish supergroup known for their catchy tunes and spandex outfits, was dragged into the Trump campaign’s musical mess. When their music was used without permission, they clarified that no license had been granted and wanted nothing to do with Trump’s rallies. After all, what does “Dancing Queen” have to do with a man whose dance moves are awkwardly shuffling from side to side like he’s trying to shake off a persistent mosquito?
But here’s the kicker: for a man who claims to be a billionaire, you’d think Donald Trump could afford to have some original music composed for his rallies. After all, this is the self-proclaimed master of the deal, the mogul who built skyscrapers (and casinos that went bankrupt, but let’s not split hairs), and the reality TV star who fired people with as much relish as a hot dog vendor at Coney Island. So why, one must ask, does he feel it’s necessary to pilfer the intellectual property of artists who so clearly want nothing to do with him?
Perhaps it’s because deep down, even Trump knows that his brand of politics is a bit like a Las Vegas casino — bright lights and flashy promises on the outside, but inside, the house always wins, and the little guy leaves with empty pockets. So instead of commissioning some original compositions — a stirring march to herald his arrival, or maybe a rousing anthem to celebrate his self-proclaimed greatness — Trump opts to co-opt. It’s as if he believes that by playing these iconic songs, he can somehow absorb the credibility, the gravitas, and the popularity of the artists who created them.
But that’s not how music works, Donald. You can’t just slap on a Rolling Stones track and suddenly become as cool as Mick Jagger. You can’t blare Queen at a convention and expect people to forget that Freddie Mercury had more charisma in his pinky finger than you’ve managed to muster in a lifetime of shouting into microphones. You can’t play “Happy” and expect the world to smile along when your policies have done nothing but sow division and discontent.
And then there’s the matter of the Swifties. Yes, Donald, we saw you trying to cozy up to Taylor Swift’s fanbase — a group as loyal and fierce as any political army. But here’s a newsflash: Taylor’s fans, like the artists on this long, long list, don’t want anything to do with you. Taylor herself has been quite vocal in supporting policies opposite to what you support. Trying to win over the Swifties with a few awkward attempts at praise is like trying to win over a vegan by offering them a steak. It’s not just misguided — it’s downright laughable.
So, Donald, here’s a suggestion: how about you do what any respectable billionaire would do and commission some original music? Surely, with all those billions, you could find a composer willing to write you a “Trump Anthem” or a “MAGA March.” You might even be able to get a jingle that captures the true essence of your campaign. Something catchy, something repetitive, something that sticks in your head even when you wish it wouldn’t — kind of like your tweets.
In the end, though, maybe this musical fiasco isn’t about the music. Perhaps it’s just another example of the Trump M.O.: take what you want, ignore the rules, and never, ever admit that you might be wrong. It’s a strategy that’s served you well in real estate, television, and even politics — at least for a while. But music is different. Music belongs to everyone, but it’s also deeply personal. It’s tied to memories, to emotions, to moments in time. When an artist creates a song, it’s like they’re giving the world a piece of their soul. And when you take that without permission, it’s no wonder they’re fighting back.
So, here’s my final note, Donald: if you want to make America great again, maybe you should start by respecting the artists who’ve contributed so much to the soundtrack of our lives. Or better yet, just leave the music alone. Because every time you steal another song, all you’re doing is proving what we’ve known all along: you may be rich in dollars, but you’re bankrupt in class.
And as you shuffle off the stage to the sound of silence — not the Simon & Garfunkel kind, mind you, because they probably wouldn’t approve either — remember this: in the end, it doesn’t matter how many songs you play at your rallies. What matters is the message you’re sending. And right now, the message is clear: Donald Trump, you’re the guy who can’t take a hint, even when it’s spelled out in a cease-and-desist letter.
So, to answer the question hanging over this entire debacle: no, Donald, you can’t always get what you want. But as the song goes, if you try sometimes, you just might find… well, maybe not.
~Dunneagin~
