“don’t let them tell you that it can’t be done.”

By Jim Page

As far as I’m concerned no political movement can be called “authentic” without music, theater, poetry, dance, the whole thing. Revolution is not just a mental exercise. For most of my life I have pursued a musical career that carries the details of reality with it. I’ve traveled and lived in places that became the songs I sing. I play acoustic guitar, which makes it easy. You can take it out anywhere, at any time. Music is the landscape, song is the form, and the guitar is the tool.

Before the WTO got to Seattle I had become cynical. I didn’t expect much. That was an obvious mistake on my part, and I should’ve known better. I had a friend from Oakland staying at my house for those days – she was doing a literature table at one of the convergent points downtown. I gave her a ride on Tuesday morning to where she was going to be working. I turned the radio on and they were talking about tear gas and people blocking the intersections and how whole streets were unusable. I dropped her off and immediately went to the Pike Place Market to park my car. I figured they had more to worry about than parking tickets. I crossed First Avenue on Pike Street right into the middle of everything. There was somebody climbing up the face of Nike Town, there was a burning dumpster at 3rd Ave, there was a police line facing off to a line of demonstrators with linked arms, there was an IMC under siege, there was a marching band – absolutely every square foot of the city center was occupied by somebody doing politics. It was the first time I heard the phrase, “This is what democracy looks like,” and it made complete sense.

I made up my mind to spend the next three days swimming in over my head, soaking up as much as was humanly possible – mining for songs.

People say, “Why do you sing political songs?” And I say that’s the wrong question. The correct question is, “Why don’t you sing political songs?” Or, “Why don’t you sing more political songs?” Because, as an artist, you not only have the right but the obligation to address the world that you live in. That means all of it – sports, economics, love, war, political scandal, comedy, tragedy, fascism, religion. Everything. If you can talk about it you can sing about it.

So that’s what I did. I tried to be everywhere at once. I wore out my shoes and got no sleep. I was booked to play at the Showbox on Tuesday evening, but Bill Clinton was in town and they had declared a state of emergency. There was a lot of gas outside and the word had gotten around that there was an enforced curfew, so that the venue security people didn’t come to work and the owners were afraid they would lose their license if they went ahead with the show. So the gig was moved to Pioneer Square. The next day I played at a church on 5th Ave, in behind the no-go lines. They had said that nobody was allowed on the streets but I went around anyway, it was porous. I carried my guitar with me everywhere.

I felt fortunate to have been a part of those events, even in the limited capacity that I was. It was an actual political victory, and those don’t happen very often. My main takeaway lesson was that cooperation, variety of tactics, and unity of vision is what leads to success. And most importantly, “direct action gets the goods.” Whoever said that hit the nail right on the head.

AND -- don’t let them tell you that it can’t be done.

“Didn’t We” Song

After the WTO events were over I waited a month before writing the song. I wanted to make sure that it was actually as important as it seemed. I monitored the international press – India, the UK, Ireland, Germany, Canada – and read endless commentaries, editorials, and reports. Once I understood that yes, it was a real big deal, then I went to work.

I wanted a song that was a celebration of victory.

The lyric is constructed as a rap. Not like an actual rapper would do it, but like I would. You can speak the words without music and they work. It’s also written like a movie script. It begins with the camera’s eye up in the air, circling over Seattle, laying the groundwork for the opening scene: the way big money pulls the strings, the poison in water and air, how profit is king, and how they don’t like it when you stand up to them but we did it anyway.

Then the camera begins to swoop down around the tops of the buildings, introducing the WTO – it comes to town and the people come to meet it. The police and the National Guard, the activists with their variety of tactics. And the “bombs bursting in air.” The camera is still above street level but closer now, it’s the millennium that everybody was afraid of but it’s different - giant puppets, the unions, and the delegates who can’t get in. Then the camera is at street level, at the police lines - the pepper spray and the handcuffs, the busses and the holding cells, and the unbeatable will of the people who are coming alive.

Then the music comes, soaring with a kind of nobility, giving you time to reflect on all that’s been happening and what it means. And the camera is above ground again, reflecting on things. The media, the politicians, the police chief. Things have changed and there’s no going back. And now the camera goes higher still – even than at the beginning of the song – it’s global now. It’s David and Goliath. It’s changing the world, and it’s taking the inspiration of Seattle and carrying it outward. The music plays out to honor the people who did the deeds of those days. Because we did, didn’t we.

Jim Page who's been fighting alongside movements with his music his whole life.