Brother Can You Spare a Dime?

In beginning Rachel Lee Rubin’s chapter “Working Man’s PhD: The Music of Working-Class Studies,” I was apprehensive and curious at the same time. We have discussed the before the problem at times with the study of popular culture – people can flock to the topics they love without really “saying” anything about their cultural consciousness. That is what I was worried would happen with this chapter and I was pleasantly surprised to find myself wrong.

Most likely every person in our class can name a popular song, whether classic rock, or rap, etc., that in some way discusses the class-consciousness of the singer of the characters in the song. After the introductory paragraph, I already had Bruce Springsteen, John Mellencamp, and Creedance Clearwater Revival swimming around in my head.

While I truly found this discussion fascinating, I found it curious that Turner left out any reference to the roots of popular music on the early 20^th century – the theater. If Lady Gaga and Katy Perry now dominate the pop charts, then seventy years ago they were covered with the sounds of Rodgers and Hammerstein, Cole Porter, and George and Ira Gershwin. Now one of the songs most remembered as indicative of the Great Depression, “Brother Can You Spare a Dime,” written by Yip Harburg (the composer of “Over the Rainbow”) appeared in the 1932 musical, Americana. Below is an excerpt from the song:

They used to tell me I was building a dream

And so I followed the mob

When there was earth to plow or guns to bear

I was always there, right on the job

They used to tell me I was building a dream

With peace and glory ahead

Why should I be standing in line

Just waiting for bread?

Once I built a railroad, I made it run

Made it race against time

Once I built a railroad, now it's done

Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once I built a tower up to the sun

Brick and rivet and lime

Once I built a tower, now it's done

Brother, can you spare a dime?

Versions of this song sung by Bing Crosby and Rudy Valle captured the frustration and despair of the working class as it was thrust into unemployment and depression. 22 years later, a musical comedy based on the pulp novel 7 ½ Cents, debuted on Broadway. The Pajama Game was able to capture a moment of worker frustration, ultimately culminating in a strike, while still maintaining the happy-go-lucky atmosphere of the 1950’s. The musical opens with an elegy to the clock, as every moment gets them through production and closer to quitting time:

Hurry up, hurry up

Can’t waste time, can’t waste time

When you’re racing with the clock

And the second hand doesn’t understand

That your back may break and your fingers ache

And you constitution isn’t made of rock

It’s a losing race when you’re racing with the clock…

When will old man Hasler break down

And come up with our 7 ½ cent raise?

How in hell can I buy my a swell new second hand car

On that salary he pays?

These are just two examples of how the messages invoked in musical theater were able to “facilitate a sense of group identity, a commonality based on shared experiences and shared economic interest – indeed, what could be called class-consciousness.” (Rubin 172)