ABBA can't keep Trump from digging the 'Dancing Queen'



"The Winner Takes It All"?

Not if ABBA can help it. The Swedish supergroup demanded that Donald Trump stop using its music at his rallies, further decreeing that any campaign footage released with ABBA's music in it must be “immediately removed” from the internet.

Then again, don't we make art in order to transcend ourselves? Isn't the goal to make something that speaks to people across barriers of time, space, culture, and, yes, ideology?

ABBA is just the latest musical group to complain about popping up on Trump's mega MAGA mix.

The Foo Fighters recently slammed the campaign for using “My Hero” at a recent rally in which Robert F. Kennedy Jr. endorsed the former POTUS. (Team Trump says it had permission.)

These artists join a long line of cranky crooners trying to turn off the music, including Celine Dion, the Beatles, Elton John, Queen, Phil Collins, the estate of Sinéad O'Connor, Adele, REM, and the Rolling Stones.

Good luck with that.

The United States allows campaigns to get a Political Entities License via the performance rights organization Broadcast Music Inc. This collects royalties for artists and hosts a giant catalog of more than 20 million songs. The case for an artist denying this license over political disagreements is dubious at best.

Some musicians have pulled it off, however. On September 3, a judge ruled in favor of the Isaac Hayes estate, issuing a preliminary injunction to stop Donald Trump from playing the Sam and Dave classic “Hold On I’m Coming" (Hayes cowrote the song) as well as any other music by Hayes. Old videos using the song, however, may remain up.

Hayes’ son Isaac Hayes III praised the ruling as "an opportunity for other artists to come forward that don’t want their music used by Donald Trump or other political entities.”

Bruce Springsteen took a sneakier route. Rather than pursuing legal action against Trump’s use of “Born in the USA,” Springsteen very publicly flaunted his support of Hillary Clinton in 2016, causing his song to be booed at Trump rallies and essentially unplayable among MAGA crowds.

Others, such as the Foo Fighters, have taken the approach of donating royalties from the BMI plays to Trump opponent Kamala Harris.

Such a head-on approach to boycotting politicians or public figures an artist dislikes can easily backfire. In late 2020, after years of melodramatic, high-minded statements about Trump's morally objectionable use of "Rockin' in the Free World," Neil Young finally sued him in August 2020. He quietly dropped the suit three months later, suggesting that perhaps the extensive public bloviating, rather than protecting his music, was the point.

In 2022, Young infamously reacted to Spotify's deal with Joe Rogan by pulling all his music off the site. Once he'd enjoyed another moment of media adulation, Young's concern over Rogan's COVID "misinformation" campaign failed to match his desire to keep those fat royalty checks coming.

He returned his catalog to Spotify in the spring of this year, acting as if his sanctimonious display of virtue signaling had never even happened.

Of course, artists like Young are fighting a losing battle. Artists have always struggled with fans interpreting their songs the "wrong" way; for example, "Born in the USA" has been used as a patriotic anthem for 30 years now.

The digital age has exacerbated this tendency; nowadays, we can enjoy a song without knowing (or caring to know) anything about the person who made it. That artists should be anxious about this loss of status is understandable.

Then again, don't we make art in order to transcend ourselves? Isn't the goal to make something that speaks to people across barriers of time, space, culture, and, yes, ideology?

If you wrote a song so undeniably good that people across the political spectrum can't resist it, congratulations. You've done your job — and maybe even helped our polarized country find a little common ground. There are worse ways to make a living.

Paul Brian, 1951-2024



I don't know if Paul Brian ever actually sold cars, but as he seemed to have done everything else in the automotive industry, I wouldn't be surprised. At any rate, I imagine he would have been good at it. Paul was persistent.

That was my first impression of him, which came via an email forwarded to me last December. He and his cohost Lauren Fix (who pays tribute to him below) had met with some people at Blaze Media about possible collaboration. Paul was following up, a little bemused by the slowness with which the corporate wheels were turning. Well, he expressed it a bit more memorably:

"We all are more than aware that great ideas need gestation, but we also don’t want to have the chicken sitting on her eggs long enough that they turn up hard-boiled," he wrote. He returned to the barnyard metaphor once more at the end. "We’ve got the chickens. We’ve got the eggs. We’ve got the end-product consumers who are hungry for the end product. And we’ve got the right farmers. Seems ready for some action to bring them all together."

I emailed Paul and suggested that he and Lauren might be a good fit for the new lifestyle section I was editing. Paul's response slyly ignored my cautious "might be." And that's how I got into the poultry business.

At first I found Paul's energy and enthusiasm daunting; I sometimes felt that I was the one 20 years older. But it proved to be transmissible. Zoom calls with Paul and Lauren had a way of expanding from 20-minute logistical chats to 90-minute, freewheeling conversations about everything under the sun.

Even over email, Paul was not one for terse, impersonal communication. Unlike some natural-born raconteurs, Paul had a knack for listening as well. Once I casually mentioned I'd lived in Czechoslovakia; Paul, who had lived in Milan working for Alfa Romeo, wanted to hear all about it. A throwaway comment about a fender-bender in my minivan or local flood warnings would be noted and responded to with genuine concern.

In the short time I knew Paul, I began to understand why Lauren thought of him as an older brother. Paul was opinionated, funny, and passionate. But beneath all of that he was also something else, something harder to come by these days. I'd say he was a gentleman.

I only worked with Paul for half a year or so, and we never met in person. His contributions to Align are a tiny fraction of his legacy, but they paint a surprisingly rich portrait. In them we get a glimpse of the fearless industry contrarian, the world champion chili cook and proud Army veteran, and the lifelong car fanatic who just wasn't built for the slow lane.

My condolences to Paul's family and many friends; I'm glad to count myself among the latter. Presumptuous of me, perhaps, but I gather most people he worked with ended up feeling the same way. May he rest in peace.

—Matt Himes


It is with a very heavy heart that I share some sad news. Paul Brian passed away peacefully Tuesday evening at home with his daughter, Lesley Durkan, his granddaughter, Quinn, and his wonderful girlfriend, Pam. We hope God gives him a garage with endless cars.

Paul had an impressive life. For those who never had the pleasure of meeting and knowing Paul as I did, he was more than just my cohost and driving buddy. Everywhere Paul went, he made friends and left an impact.

Paul loved cars. He loved to drive them, talk about them, doodle them on cocktail napkins, and have deliciously fun talks (and sometimes arguments) about them with friends. For most of his life he did just that, and now he joins fellow car friends including Carroll Shelby, who became a 45-year friend and mentor. Paul was also passionate about art, science, food, wine, music, and fashion — because no car was ever built or bought without at least a little of each of those elements.

Paul was regarded as one of our nation’s best-known, respected, and in-demand automotive industry experts. He was the marketing manager on the Alfa Romeo IndyCar team. He was the automotive voice of Chicago for 35-plus years. He headed the communications and marketing team for the Chicago Auto Show and hosted his "Drive Chicago" radio show on WLS Radio for 20 years.

He was an honored juror for the North American Car and Truck of the Year Awards, served as president of the Midwest Automotive Media Association, received two Emmy awards, and was inducted into the Legends of Motorsport Guild’s Hall of Fame.

Paul Brian was, to quote himself, “always entertaining and sometimes actually informative."

Paul Brian was a proud veteran of the U.S. Army, serving as the director of the Armed Forces Radio and Television network while stationed in the Panama Canal Zone during Vietnam in the early 1970s. His love and devotion to the Army lived long after his service to our country. He spent decades serving veterans through philanthropic work and served as a founding member of the Allen J. Lynch Medal of Honor Veterans Foundation board of directors.

Paul would do anything to help another veteran. In lieu of flowers, Paul wished for donations be given to the Allen J. Lynch Medal of Honor Veterans Foundation in his name. This was another of his passions: to help other soldiers who sacrificed so much.

Allen J. Lynch Medal of Honor Veterans Foundation provides grants to those who are engaged in providing educational programs, PTSD assistance, and direct assistance to veterans.

Allen J. Lynch Medal of Honor Veterans Foundation (501(c)(3) organization)
6615 Grand Ave Ste B PMB 415
Gurnee, IL 60031