Never mind the ballots

Politics and pop have never had a happy relationship. As Ann Widdecombe's recent experiences prove...

Ann Widdecombe, shadow Home Secretary and all-round enemy of fun, is considering suing the superannuated Brummie pop-reggae combo UB40 over their use of a caricature of her smoking a joint to promote their new single. (I won't mention the title here - let's not give them the oxygen of publicity...) But aside from the obvious legal implications and the amusing involvement of Virgin records, this is clearly dangerous territory for all involved.

Ann Widdecombe, shadow Home Secretary and all-round enemy of fun, is considering suing the superannuated Brummie pop-reggae combo UB40 over their use of a caricature of her smoking a joint to promote their new single. (I won't mention the title here - let's not give them the oxygen of publicity...) But aside from the obvious legal implications and the amusing involvement of Virgin records, this is clearly dangerous territory for all involved.

Pop and politicians just do not mix. This case echoes 1967, when an earlier Birmingham band, The Move, promoted "Flowers in the Rain" with a cartoon postcard of Harold Wilson. The PM sued, successfully, for libel, and all royalties were donated to a charity of his choice.

Perhaps that's the way it should be. Pop groups are meant to offend the establishment, not cosy up to it. Although Wilson did give the Beatles MBEs in 1966. The band shared a joint in the Buck House toilets before receiving their gongs. Many crusty Home Counties duffers sent their own back, as did John Lennon in 1969.

Noel Gallagher's visit to No 10 in 1997 was just another in a long series of embarrassing encounters. How about Mick Jagger taking tiffin with a bishop, a former home secretary and the editor of The Times in a 1967 World in Action special, all those present at pains to sip their tea gracefully? Or Bob Dylan's hilarious encounter with Alderman Mrs Jim Clark, the high sheriff of Newcastle's lady (I am not making this title up) and her squirming sons in the 1966 documentary Don't Look Back? At least the Czech President, Vaclav Havel, abused his position to invite Lou Reed and Frank Zappa to tea, as a true fan would.

When politicians play at being rock stars, it's even worse. Neil Kinnock's, "Woo! All right!" greeting at Labour's pre-election rally in Sheffield in 1992 cost him not only any dignity he'd ever possessed, but possibly the actual vote. And I haven't even mentioned that Tracey Ullman video. Or Red Wedge.

When parties attempt to appropriate the work of musicians, they usually get that wrong, too. Bruce Springsteen's deeply cynical "Born in the USA" was co-opted by Ronald Reagan's campaign crew, while Massive Attack were recently up in arms over the Tories' use of one of their tunes at their last conference. Pete Townshend has been more amused by the Republicans' borrowing of "Won't Get Fooled Again" during this year's elections. After all, the lyrics clearly say, "Meet the new boss, same as the old boss."

But what else can you expect from these people? While the rest of the teenage nation was fighting the punk rock wars in the summer of 1977, a young William Hague was sucking up to the Tory party conference. Tony Blair put down his guitar soon enough when his dreams of lawyering came true. The Tipper Gore who once played percussion with various members of the Grateful Dead is the same woman who devised "Parental Advisory" stickers for records.

Some former musicians have made headway up the greasy pole. The late Sonny Bono, married to Cher when there was quite a bit more of her, was mayor of the California retirement resort Palm Springs. The late Jimmy Rodgers was a successful country singer before becoming a distinctly illiberal governor of Louisiana. Wonderfully, Christopher Guest, aka Nigel Tufnel of Spinal Tap, made it into Parliament as Lord Haden-Guest for a few weeks before recent reforms.

It does work both ways. Bob Marley's prestige was so great that when he brought the political rivals Manley and Seago together on stage at his 1976 Peace Concert, it helped to calm Kingston's cycle of internecine violence. Good old Ken Livingstone counted a show with Blur as part of his canvassing for the mayoral elections. And it made a nice change for the fans to hear a different estuarine whine.

Miss Widdecombe recently hired the former manager of Shaun Ryder's Black Grape as her Commons secretary. Gloria Nicholl may well be a "good Catholic" (and she must have plenty of experience on the forgiveness front), but Ryder is largely famous for confusing recreational and occupational drug use. Whatever did she put on her CV?