As a trumpet player I must have played the Star-Spangled Banner, conservatively, over 100 times. As a conductor of wind bands, I have led about that many performances of it. I have never thought of it as an historical document, to be studied and analyzed in all of its forms so I’m glad that Mark Clague did it for me. I have also SUNG the national anthem hundreds of times, mostly before football and basketball games at the high school, college and professional levels. I might say that, in my last formal association with high school sports as a sports reporter, I became infamous for singing it so loudly that, when the PA system failed at an away game, I found myself leading the crowd in its singing before a high school basketball game. I have always preferred the military, straight performance of the anthem, refusing to sing when the main performer of it takes off in melismatic distortions primarily intended, it seems, for his or her own enjoyment (functioning as an audition for other performances?) rather than as a lead voice in a crowd-as-chorale small act of patriotism. My only real quibble with Clague’s book is its lack of consideration of the modern abuse of the melody and lyrics in those performances that serve as self-absorbed solo performances with no regard for function. Clague emphasizes throughout his book that the national anthem is primarily (or should be) an expression of patriotism or at least of national recognition. He discusses the performances that are protests against conditions or state of the nation such as the combination of the Star-Spangled Banner and Lift Every Voice and Sing that became popular in some circles in the 70s and Jimmi Hendrix’s famed Woodstock Banner from the same era, but these are different from the self-absorbed versions that have become so agonizingly familiar in recent years. He even discusses the famous Roseanne Barr disastrous performance but points out that most of the anger directed at her was because of her middle finger salute to the booing crowd and her spitting as she left the field. There have been, according to Clague’s count, over 500 lyrics applied to the tune that he constantly refers to as “…the Anacreontic song…” that was familiar to almost any Englishman in the 18th century. It is a bit inaccurate to describe the tune as “…a drinking song…” though it did serve that purpose, but the Anacreontic song carried literally hundreds of lyrics through the years, not all of them patriotic. Francis Scott Key, whose poem was fitted to the melody, frequently inserted lyrics in pre-existing melodies, as did many poets of the 18th and 19th centuries. In fact, it is John Stafford Smith who should get the credit for writing the melody, though he never is unless it is on a printed version of the tune. (Smith, incidentally, is not even mentioned in Clague’s Index!) Clague points out that it is most likely Adams and Liberty, yet another Anacreontic tune, that was Key’s model for his lyric. Clague spends many pages on Francis Scott Key’s character and background to explain why the third of the four stanzas he wrote is seldom if ever performed. It includes a reference to “...slave and hireling” that offended many. Clague analyzes the phrase that has caused all the problems and points out that, in the practice of the time, “slave and hireling” could refer to the British soldiers and mercenaries who fought in the War of 1812. There were still, in 1814 when Key wrote his lyrics, a few Whigs around—people who had supported the British during the Revolutionary War. As new Americans, they could be interpreted as former slaves to King George III and the British crown. At any rate, the stanza has all but disappeared. The controversy over the fact that Key was a slave owner and anti-abolitionist haunts his reputation, but he also worked to free many slaves and freed his own eventually. Clague sums up his stance in history as being on the wrong side of it. Clague makes no apology for the difficulty of the song musically; it is what it is and, under the influence of Key’s text, fits it rather well. In particular, the musical high point of the song, the word “free” near its end, to which the melody leads inexorably, is particularly fitting. All in all, this is a fascinating look in infinite detail at the most famous and most-sung song in US history, adopted as the national anthem in 1931 by Congress, but long before that established by popularity and performance as the people’s anthem. I still prefer it in the dotted eighth-sixteenth form in ¾ time with the lyrical center section and no ritard after the “free” note. Your preference may be different, but either way, we should both sing it together.