The Bon Jovi Advantage

From the July 19, 2004 issue: John Kerry makes time with '80s hair bands.

BY Matt Labash

July 19, 2004, Vol. 9, No. 42

New York

DURING THE PARTS of this presidential campaign that I've managed to stay awake through, it's striking how few gaffes and humiliations John Kerry has suffered. When he does, they nearly always result from his flying his freak flag, trying to talk to the young people, or otherwise waiting for his hipster credit to get approved.

The vast share of such mishaps seem to be music-related. Sure, Kerry hasn't caused himself irreparable harm in the manner of Wes Clark, who proved himself unfit for office by admitting his favorite album was "Journey: Greatest Hits." But Kerry's staffers have disclosed that he likes to play favorite show tunes from Evita and Cats on his guitar. And he did tell MTV, "I'm fascinated by rap and by hip-hop. I think there's a lot of poetry in it." And who could forget when the nostalgia-prone Kerry took Peter Yarrow along for an Iowa hootenanny, and got caught toking an imaginary joint during a rendition of "Puff the Magic Dragon." Or the time Kerry, once a bassist in his prep-school band ("the producer of pulsating rhythm," album liner notes called him), was gigging with Moby, covering Lou Reed's "Walk on the Wild Side." Moby, a mercenary soul who has suggested sandbagging Bush by having women present themselves as former girlfriends forced to have abortions by the president, failed to steer clear of the lyric where Reed's protagonist, Candy, never loses her head even while giving the same. Kerry froze up like a sallow-cheeked snowman.

With such promise of looming catastrophe, I parted with $500 and became a proud Kerry donor in order to gain entry into the July 8 "Concert for John Kerry" at Radio City Music Hall. Sponsored by Rolling Stone's Jann Wenner and Miramax's Harvey Weinstein, the concert, originally slated during Ronald Reagan's funeral week, was part two of a series. The first occurred in Los Angeles two weeks ago, when Barbra Streisand somehow emerged from Reagan-related grieving and another of her serial retirements to sing specially tailored lyrics to "People" (Bush seeza / Lotta Condoleezza / They're dividing the planet's oil / According to Richard Poil). The GOP hit back hard, touting their online "Kerryoke Lounge," which re-imagined Babs's "The Way We Were" as "The Flips We Flopped." Polls-wise, it's too early to tell if these duelling song parodies have caused a Ralph Nader surge.

Kerry kicked off last week's concert by mounting the stage with new sidekick John Edwards, who has managed to transform himself into Mr. Electricity since the primaries, when many of us in the vulture class thought the too-smooth-by-half Edwards was less suited to sell us his vision of America, more suited to sell us an extended power-train warranty on a Camry. There they stood, two well-tailored, half-windsored Monsters of Rock, before they plunged into the audience. From my perspective in the cheap seats (orchestra seats went for $1,000 minimum, helping reap a record $7.5 million one-night take), it seemed a bit early to stage-dive without the music having started in earnest. But in fact, the tandem just took the stairs, finding comfortable seats where they could clap off the beat for the next two and a half hours.

Jon Bon Jovi kicked things off with some stripped-down Richie Sambora-less versions of his hits. It seemed an appropriate choice, since Bon Jovi was the only man in the sold-out venue who could battle Edwards for top Breck-girl status, with his jojoba-enriched locks. Living legend Paul Newman was up next, doddering out in wise-owl glasses perched halfway down his nose, feisty as ever. A huge fan (I named a son after Cool Hand Luke), I was rooting for Newman, the cinematic icon and deep-pocketed philanthropist who has brought us so much joy over the years through his popcorn and salad dressings. But apparently, there's some things his money can't buy. Writers, for instance. Taking the night's first-of-many whacks at the Bush piñata, Newman mocked trickle-down tax cuts, saying rich coots like him hide their money in a sock. "Why, when the tax cuts were announced," he said by way of proof, "did the sock market go up 60 percent?"