New York governor Andrew Cuomo pulled together a Spotify playlist, apparently following the lofty two-year tradition of President Barack Obama’s summer playlists. But Cuomo, a likely 2020 presidential hopeful, might have put more thought into his. Obama’s lists, tapestries of hidden meaning and hinted-at resentments, weave soulful oldies with esoteric hip-hop—they’ve won the unambiguous and, naturally, unironic praise of high-minded critics. Cuomo’s list plays four Billy Joel songs in a row. And two successive Springsteen tracks, as though they’d been highlighted in tandem and click-and-dragged. (The mixmaster might have thought to auto-shuffle.)
Have a listen: proud to unveil my official @Spotify playlist! https://t.co/nBKoRbtoNe pic.twitter.com/ReBYbvgJkv
— Andrew Cuomo (@NYGovCuomo) February 15, 2017
Several of the songs have something to do with New York—makes sense—but of these all but Bruce’s “Erie Canal” mean the city, not the state. He even chose Tom Waits’s “Downtown Train,” bypassing what might have been the obvious choice, Waits’s “Putnam County.” The governor insists “Upstate Matters!” but his selection of pop music only serves to remind us of upstate’s unavoidable imbalance with the city at the center of the world. According to Pitchfork, a “tastemaking” music site that helps the self-consciously hip stay relevant, Cuomo’s playlist coincides with Spotify’s announcement of a real estate upgrade and staff increase. Rather than dig into the list, they stick to the artists’ New York roots and the music industry news at hand—probably just as well: Leave it to THE WEEKLY STANDARD.
Governor Cuomo’s rivalry with leftist city mayor Bill de Blasio (more tense even than Mayor Lindsay and Governor Rockefeller’s war of the WASPs); his political career in his father former governor Mario Cuomo’s shadow; his smattering of scandal and hypocrisies; his widely presumed presidential ambitions—it’s the sort of dynastic high drama that deserves a more discriminating soundtrack. Or at least, a few meaningful additions.
“Plastic Bag Theme” by Thomas Newman – When is a plastic bag ever just a plastic bag?
Or, when is a plastic bag ban ban ever just a plastic bag ban ban? The governor, a liberal Democrat, considers himself a progressive but can’t always act like one. He signed a bill Tuesday blocking the city council’s ecologically-sensitive five-cent surcharge for disposable plastic bags—siding with Republicans in the state senate. This scene and the song that goes with it— “Plastic Bag Theme,” from Sam Mendes’ American Beauty—made the disposable plastic bag an enduring symbol of American restlessness, a sadly wafting byproduct of our materialism seen through fresh eyes. Governor Cuomo, sort of, asks the same of New Yorkers: Look again at the plastic bag.
Lisa’s Folk Song: “They have the plant, but we have the power!”
Lisa Simpson, folk activist, sings, “They have the plant, but we have the power.” In Albany’s case, this is also true. Indian Point nuclear power plant, a half-century-old energy source for the city and surrounding towns, fell to the state’s whim. The governor called it a “ticking time bomb” and confessed it was a personal target of his, and its upcoming closure his gift to New Yorkers. The thing is, nuclear power is far less dirty than our baser carbon-emitting energy, and without sufficient carbon-free sources to offset the loss of Indian Point, its end hardly represents a net-gain for the environmental agenda (or a cost-saving solution for the city). Tellingly, the expensive plan to ramp up the state’s renewable energy sources will actually fund three nuclear power plants, which don’t qualify as renewable—and, hey, aren’t they “ticking time bombs” too?
Fear!
In “F.E.A.R.,” moody Manchester britpopper Ian Brown really nails down his messaging, in a solo effort that did well but never really reached the level of the band Brown broke off from, The Stone Roses. Governor Cuomo’s speech at the Democratic National Convention, which was also about fear, was a crowning moment in Philly last July. It was an early ad for the governor’s presidential bid, sure. But also, and some say necessarily, he leaned on rhetorical invocations of his father, still a hero to many Democrats—one whose legacy and influence, kind of like The Stone Roses’, can’t be outdone.
Those Big Bill Blues
The blues brought to you by Big Bill Broonzy predate 6-foot-5 Bill de Blasio’s feud with the governor. And these blues aren’t about a tall mayor who tries to bring you down and undermine the authority of the state seal. They’re about the guy who wrote the song, a killer blues guitarist, who incidentally sings, “I ain’t gon’ be your doggone fool.” A line Cuomo could use on the Gracie Mansion Sandinista.
Just Deport Me …Please?
When Governor Cuomo asked President Trump to deport him— “If there is a move to deport immigrants, I say then start with me”—he might have just meant he like so many Democrats needed a post-election vacation, perhaps a permanent one. In listless jaunt “Let’s Get Out of This Country,” Camera Obscura’s Tracyanne Campbell asks, “What does the city have to offer me?/ Everyone think it’s the bee’s knees/ I just can’t see, oh.” So might the governor, when he’s feeling the Big Bill Blues.
Crates of Ziti
Longtime former aide and family friend—Cuomo’s bodyman and “enforcer,” per the Times—Joseph Percoco was indicted last year on charges of corruption, which he at least had some pop-culturally-referential fun with. Accepting hundreds of thousands in graft, Percoco used a Sopranos codeword in bribery-related emails. Percoco and another corrupt Cuomo loyalist, lobbyist Todd Howe, referred to bribe money as “ziti”, and they pursued crates of it. In the groundbreaking HBO drama about all-too-human mafioso Tony Soprano, a “box of ziti” means a thousand dollars. A crate? Well, Percoco is charged with taking $315,000 over four years—from two developers, one of which is planning to build upstate nuclear power plants, curiously. That’s a lot of ziti.
Anyway here’s the Sopranos theme, “Woke Up This Morning” by Alabama 3.
When I’m President, Things Will Be Different
At this point, there’s only one surefire way to oneup Dad. Mario Cuomo never sought the presidency, although he’s said to have contemplated it, and many had hoped he would run in 1988 and 1992—the specter of his unsought presidency, what could have been, haunts many a middle-aged liberal. Andrew Cuomo now shows all the telltale signs of mounting a campaign, without inciting the sort of loving analysis devotees applied to his father’s plans. The son is not so subtle, speaking for the party, harping on free college with Bernie, and drawing crowds as often as possible—he might as well sing it out:
…”When I’m President” by the mostly forgotten funk-metal rock group Extreme.
