I was recently passing one of our TVs that was showing a racecar event, the kind where the roar of the engines is a familiar soundtrack. As the spectacle ramped up, the announcers prepared viewers for the opening ceremony, of sorts.
The national anthem began, and what followed was… a moment. A moment I’ve unfortunately become accustomed to and one that, quite frankly, I’m tired of.
The performer, bless her heart, launched into a rendition of The Star-Spangled Banner that was less a solemn invocation of national pride and more a full-blown country music audition. We’re talking a dramatic pause here, a drawn-out vibrato there and a vocal embellishment that, dare I say, bordered on yodeling. It wasn't just sung; it was performed in a way that felt entirely misplaced, entirely unnecessary and, if I may, entirely disrespectful to the very purpose of the song.
It struck me then, with a force that rivaled the sound of those engines, that we’ve lost something fundamental in how we approach our national anthem. We’ve turned a powerful, unifying symbol into a platform for individual vocal artistry. We’ve started treating The Star-Spangled Banner like it’s a song on a reality singing competition, a piece up for interpretation, a melody ripe for the contestants to "make it their own."
And that’s precisely the problem. This isn’t a song for personal reinvention. This isn't your moment. Sure, it's your moment for the bragging rights you'll have on social media for the next two days, but this event and performance isn't about you. It's not. Sweety, it's not. It’s not a canvas for you to splatter your unique vocal palette onto. It’s the national anthem. It’s a bedrock of our collective identity, a historical marker that carries immense weight and meaning, regardless of your personal musical tastes or aspirations.
I’m not advocating for robotic, soulless performances. I understand that different people have different vocal styles. But there’s a vast chasm between a sincere, heartfelt rendition and the gratuitous vocal acrobatics I often witness. The particular brand of "country twang" that seems to have become the go-to embellishment at sporting events, in particular, feels entirely out of place. This isn't a honky-tonk tune; it's a ballad of defiance and resilience. Why are we infusing it with a sound that has absolutely no historical or thematic connection to its origins?
The anthem, as written by Francis Scott Key and as it has been sung by generations, has a certain gravitas. It’s meant to evoke patriotism, remembrance and a shared sense of belonging. When a performer takes liberties, stretching notes into oblivion, adding unnecessary flourishes or adopting a genre-specific vocal delivery, they risk alienating the very audience they are supposed to be uniting. They risk overshadowing the message with their own performance.
Think about it. When you hear The Star-Spangled Banner, what do you expect? Do you expect a vocal masterclass designed to win your vote? Or do you expect a clear, resonant and dignified performance that honors the words and the sentiment behind them? I, for one, expect the latter. I want to feel the history, the pride and the shared experience. I don't want to be distracted by whether the singer can hit a high C or if they're going to add a little "yeehaw" to the chorus.
This isn't about stifling creativity; it's about understanding context and purpose. There are countless songs where individual interpretation and vocal flair are not only welcome but essential. The national anthem is not one of them. Its power lies in its familiarity, its historical resonance and its ability to serve as a common ground for all Americans.
So, please, to all the performers out there tasked with singing our national anthem: just sing it. Sing it as it’s written. Sing it with clarity, with conviction and with a respect for the tradition it represents. Leave the vocal gymnastics and genre-specific stylings for your own concerts or your audition tapes.