The DNC’s lively Roll Call shows America is ready to party

If you watched or attended the second day of the Democratic National Convention on Tuesday night but skipped the traditional hour-long statewide call to grab a bite to eat between speeches by Kenneth Stribling, a proponent of bailing out private pension funds, and Ana Navarro, a professionally anti-Trump Republican, you missed an entertaining and possibly even meaningful spectacle.

Roll calls are, at best and worst, the county fairs of national nominating conventions, with thematically dressed state delegations (cheeseheads for Wisconsinites, cowboy hats with stars for Texas residents, etc.) flanking a local politician or two at the microphone as they recite fun facts and political trivia about their state, the best state in the union, before announcing the already-known vote totals for the next U.S. president. And yes, the Libertarians do it too (minus the known vote totals), although they sometimes sacrifice the cheap recitations to save time.

But last night’s ritual was different enough to almost make you hopeful about the future of American civic life. Not because of its political content, but because of something closer to the opposite of political: music.

Standing parallel to the stage, in sunglasses, a white boater hat, and a shiny blue satin suit, was a ridiculous-looking creature named DJ Cassidy. He promptly transformed the liturgical routine into a 76-minute dance party and a celebratory reminder of why we, like the Violet Femmes, love American music.

Cassidy (nickname Cassidy Durango Milton Willy Podell), a famous DJ whose most meaningful contribution to culture was a YouTube series during the pandemic called Pass the microphonetailored many of its selections to have a state connection, starting with the obvious (if boringly controversial among journalistic invective) “Sweet Home Alabama.” There were literal choices (the B52s’ “My Own Private Idaho;” “Carry on My Wayward Son” for Kansas), state-bound artists (Bruce Springsteen for New Jersey; Prince for Minnesota), campaign callbacks (Bill Clinton’s favorite, “Don’t Stop” by Fleetwood Mac for Arkansas), deep metaphorical cuts (“Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell for the vulnerable-to-sea-rise Northern Mariana Islands), and a few head-scratchers, too. The connection between New Hampshire and Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” is unclear, as is Sabrina Carpenter’s 2024 smash “Espresso” to Guam.

But above all, it was an all-American arena bop, with cuts that dropped like walk-on music for baseball closers — Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” for Michigan, or Illinois’ literal court walk-on music for the Chicago Bulls. And yes, Lil Jon was hype.

The somber, partisan interpretation of such a winning jam is a chest-thumping exercise in whataboutism: Suck it, Kid Rock! The Dems have better celebrities, man!

But in an election fought on vibes, Democrats and Republicans may be missing a key vibe shift. There is a through line between last night, the Also– the frenzied Republican National Convention (featuring a stellar house band, plus Hulk Hogan and Amber Rose), and even the Paris Olympics, where Snoop Dogg was the runaway star ambassador. Could it be that Americans, weary of political infighting and the residual trauma of 2020, are simply in the mood… to party?

Olympic gold-medal coach and former Chicago Bulls champion Steve Kerr received more rapturous applause at the United Center this week than most politicians without the last name “Obama.” And it wasn’t for the Golden State Warriors coach’s routine recitation of “the future of our middle class, the future of reproductive rights, the future of our climate, our safety, our schools,” but rather for how “when we won, the American flag was flying, the national anthem was flying, and gold medals were around the necks of our players, their hands were over their hearts… It was the proudest moment of my life.” (To which the crowd gave a vigorous chant of “USA!”)

The all-time leading American Olympic basketball scorer, Kevin Durant, had perhaps the most apt patriotic quote of the summer in Paris. “There’s a lot of crap going on in our country,” Durant told reporters. “But there’s a lot of great stuff going on, too.”

Politics is the source of much of this nonsense, producing not only an endless stream of catastrophic rhetoric but also real-world policies that make our lives worse than they have to be. As if to illustrate this yawning gulf between the things Americans celebrate and the crap we endure, the Democrats had the hilariously idiotic idea last night to follow up DJ Cassidy’s exuberant dance party with two lifelong politicians who have a combined 156 years on planet Earth: Sens. Chuck Schumer (D–NY) and Bernie Sanders (I–Vt.).

The good news — heartening news, even — is that the two senators blew it. Schumer, who I regret to inform you attempted to dance, added such instant-applause lines as “We’re poised to pick up seats!” punctuated occasionally by raising his little arms in the air.

Bernie’s failure was the biggest surprise. Eight years ago, he was the electric, if somewhat neutralized, crowd favorite at the DNC; now, having successfully dragged the Democratic Party to the economic left, Sanders faces the fate that eventually befalls all apocalyptic populists: a public bored with the same old hand-picked statistics and hyperbolic rhetoric, and perhaps also noticing that his comrades have actually been in charge.

Could it be that, after all this political angst and post-pandemic rupture, Americans are finally ready to touch grass? I’ve been prematurely optimistic about such things before. But we’re a lovable but arrogant bunch, rightly in love with the incredible things we’re creating far beyond the political arena.

“You know which culture wins the Cold War?” said an admittedly stoned listener of The Fifth Column podcast recently wrote in. “The new Beyonce album. Hot chicks in cowboy boots and American flag outfits. That’s the America I believe in.” Amen.