Grading every country’s national anthem, part one

Afghanistan. The entire song is essentially a long list of ethnic groups in Afghanistan (“and Tajiks, and Pashtos, and Uyghurs, and…”) which is why it’s the same two bars over and over and over again. There are a lot of ethnic groups in Afghanistan, and every one of them would get pissy and shoot people if they didn’t get mentioned in the national anthem. 40

Albania. Often over in less than a minute, which is a running time to which more anthems should aspire. 55

Algeria. You remember when you were six and your parents took you to the ballet because it was “cultural” and you were bored right up until the prince (who may or may not have been evil, you don’t remember) made his entrance, complete with theme, and you woke up and went “whoa”? Like that. 75

Andorra. Currently being sued by England for copyright infringement. 35

Angola. The original Angolan nathional anthem was killed in a horrific crossfire in 1977. This replacement was called up from the ranks in a desperate bid to assert the superiority of the central government; it never quite succeeded. 47

Antigua and Barbuda. You ask me, this is far too classy an anthem for what is essentially a dinky couple of islands. And aren’t brass bands supposed to be a cold-weather thing? You’d expect tropical islands to play, I dunno, steel drums or something. I suspect malfeasance at play here, but cannot prove anything, so. 81

Argentina. Now, you might think “three minutes? my god, this anthem goes on forever,” but the thing is that this anthem is actually an unused number from Evita that Andrew Lloyd Webber rejected. However, Argentina really liked it, so they asked very politely if they could use it as their national anthem, and Webber said, “well, okay, but come up with new lyrics for it so nobody knows it was me, okay? I have standards.” And that is where babies come from. 66

Armenia. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. 31

Australia. Fun fact: there used to be four verses to “Advance Australia Fair,” but someone stole the last two. No, no, I kid. In fact what happened is that Australians decided to vote on their national anthem, were offered the opportunity to vote for “Waltzing Matilda,” which is a lovely song and completely endemic of their national character to boot, and instead they all voted for this song, which nobody in the entire country really likes (which is not surprising since it is, shall we say, boring) but which they feel is more “anthemy.” This tells you a lot about Australia. 55

Austria. Written by Mozart (really!), then stolen by Austria from his deathbed, and then they waited nearly four hundred years to make it their “official” national anthem, as the Austrian royal line was terrified of Mozart’s ghost coming back from the grave to wreak unholy revenge. Which was probably the right call, because would you want to fuck with Mozart’s ghost? He’s badass. 90

The Bahamas. With a title like “March On Bahamaland,” you kind of expect a Jimmy Buffet song, don’t you? Instead it’s another boring brass band march of the type every recently-independent Commonwealth country feels they have to have so that the British know they still love them deep down, even if they want to use their own currency now. 61

Bahrain. With all their money you think they would have sprung for something a little fresher, don’t you? Presumably the ruling sheikh at the time this was commissioned was one of those “hands-on” sheikhs and he was all “I think we need more fanfares here,” and “You know what people like? Fanfares” and “Maybe you could put in another fanfare here, just so the trumpets have something to do” and “Put in some more fucking fanfares or I will cut your head off.” And thus, the Bahraini national anthem. 42

Bangladesh. The marriage of a truly lovely poem to what appears to be random musical notation. Conductors hate playing this. “Keep banging that cymbal until I tell you to stop, goddamnit! Did I say stop? No! Now, strings, I need you to play in this key while the horns play in this key and woodwinds, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but you play this page backwards.” 33

Barbados. Lovely winds and strings bely the usual “we used to be English so here is a brass band” approach. Perhaps this reflects Barbados’ historical importance as a British colony in the Caribbean. Perhaps it merely reflects the fact that Barbadoians (Barbadosians? Barbadosites? Barbapapas?) have big balls compared to their colonial brethren. Who knows. 90

Belarus. Sounds kind of like the theme to an Eastern European version of Star Trek: The Next Generation, where Captain Pikorayev leads the Enterprise into deep space to explore and fight Space-Cossacks. 72

Belgium. This anthem is in such a hurry it forces the slurs out in doubletime, which is why all Belgians grow up hating to sing it; the human mouth cannot force out the changes in pitch that fast. On the bright side, though, the anthem is usually over by the time anybody can scold you, so it all works out and Belgians generally look forward to musically torturing their kids as they were tortured, gleefully awaiting the day their children come to realize that getting the slur right really doesn’t matter. Then, when the realization dawns, they go take their kids out for their first beer. And usually their second, third and fourth beers as well, because, come on, it’s Belgium. 78

Belize. Seemingly goes on forever. Is boring. Designed by Belizians to keep foreigners out of their perfectly nice country by making people assume the entire country is as boring as their anthem. (Which I am told is not the case, but I don’t want to risk it. Good work, Belize!) 21

Benin. “So I am sitting down in the pub when Osaze comes in, he says we need a national anthem. I say why do we need this thing? He says all the countries need national anthems, it is how the Americans know you are a country. Well, I say, I guess we should have a national anthem. We make it like the good ones in Europe, I bet you cannot tell the difference if you do not know beforehand! That is craftsmanship.” 74

Bhutan. The Bhutanese national anthem is entitled “The Thunder Dragon Kingdom,” and the question one must ask is “does this anthem accurately evoke the feeling of riding on the back of a giant thunder dragon, as per 2nd edition Advanced Dungeons and Dragons stats?” And the answer is “pretty much, yes.” Listening to this anthem is like being in The Neverending Story or something. In a good way. 93

Bolivia. You know, for a country that is basically sitting on top of a mountain, Bolivia’s national anthem has a lot of wind instruments in it. I bet Bolivian classical musicians show off how manly they are by performing the anthem over and over again in La Paz and not getting winded. Bolivian musicians have lungs that are so large that they have to carry around all their other organs in a travel bag. 68

Bosnia/Herzegovina. Is, and I am totally not kidding here, a classical rework of “Every Sperm Is Sacred” from Monty Python and the Meaning of Life. Seriously, listen to it and tell me otherwise. 21

Botswana. The difference between the instrumental and the vocal versions of this anthem are like night and day. The instrumental is a pretty little melody which has a bit of national flavour to it. The vocal version is about ten thousand times better. This is often not the case with national anthems, which are frequently even less interesting to listen to when there’s a choir. But Botswana pulls it off magnificently. Hooray for them! 91 (for vocal; 82 for instrumental)

Brazil. I know I complain that some national anthems are too long, and Brazil’s is shorter than many of them, but it feels like it goes on forever, like some sort of Rodgers and Hammerstein dance recital gone into the infinite depths of time and space. However, it is also pretty and fun, so basically this sums up the Brazilian national character better than many national anthems do: Brazilians like things that are pretty and fun and want them to go on forever. 73

Brunei. Is not so much your traditional national anthem as it is an anthem jerking off the Sultan of Brunei, which should surprise nobody since that’s basically the job of the entire country of Brunei. 12

Bulgaria. Sounds like a dramatic overture, the bit that comes right before the big action sequence in the movie as the soldiers assemble to charge the field or the castle or the Death Star or whatever. Given that this, like most anthems, primarily gets sung at international soccer games – you have to figure that gives Bulgaria a bit of an edge. Clever of them, really. 84

Burkina Faso. This was written by a former president, when Burkina Faso stopped being Upper Volta and started being Burkina Faso, and it sounds like the former president really liked three different ideas for the national anthem and he couldn’t make up his mind so he just used all of them, one after the other, or maybe mixing and matching a few bars here with a passage there until all that was left was this great big mess. 43

Burma (or Myanmar). The first line of this anthem translates into “Until the rest of the world shatters, long live Burma!” You have to admire a country that puts that kind of explicit “fuck you” into their anthem, whether they’re fascists or not. (And oh my are they fascists.) 31

Burundi. Sounds more like a movie soundtrack than a national anthem – a really awesome movie, though, about African cowboys looking out over the savannah as the sun sets over the elephants, and then maybe they fight evil white people from some European country bent on exploitation, and of course there would be a good white person, possibly played by a Baldwin. But, yeah, this anthem is not very anthemic. Nice, though. 67

Cambodia. Feels definitively anthemic in a non-Western traditional way, which is actually a bit of a novelty given how many countries just listen to “La Marseillaise” and say “we will have one of those, please.” But the bad news is that despite regional authenticity, the music all feels kind-of-samey within itself. 47

Cameroon. Speaking of countries just copying “La Marseillaise” and then changing a few notes here and there, there is this. I mean, they get credit for stealing from the best, but… yeah. 36

Canada. Okay, no doubt somebody from Brunei is going to be all “you’re biased because you live there and the Sultan is really awesome so why are you giving us crap about our anthem when you can’t even be objective about yours” but here’s the simple truth: we may be a neurotic nation filled with complainers, envy-ridden freaks and contrarians, but goddamn it we have a really great national anthem that, unlike many, honest-to-god works in multiple languages without a lot of shoehorning. So suck it up and learn from one of the best. 95

Cape Verde. Perfectly nice little anthem that would have been quite decent had it gone, say, a minute ten rather than two minutes, where it feels overlong. Also ends with a big flourish that seems a bit incongruous to the rest of the anthem, as if the composer was all “goddamnit, end big.” 58

Central African Republic. Feels like the composer made a serious attempt to marry European classical tradition to an African setting and in this regard at least partially succeeded. Unfortunately, it sounds like a rejected theme for Bonanza. 42

Chad. Great opening to it, like somebody said “look, we only want this for if we ever win an Olympic medal, everything after the first fifteen seconds is basically just stuff.” Unfortunately they took that guy seriously. 51

Chile. An anthem that really wants you to know that Chile is a safe haven from the oppressor (with quiet seas) and a “tomb for the free,” which sounds a lot more ominous than was probably intended. (Or, given Chile’s political history, may in fact have been the idea all along.) Like most South American anthems, goes on too long; this is a continent that really loves their anthems. 43

China. Say what you will, but Commies are generally pretty good with the anthems sounding like they’re anthems. (The old USSR anthem was much the same way, back in the day.) Is it a good piece of music? Not really. But it’s a good anthem. The two are not always the same thing. Meditate on this. 65

Colombia. This is the most boring one yet; a straight up old-school horse march that wouldn’t be out of place at a dog show. You’d think there’d be some coke-fueled composer somewhere in Colombia who’d sit down and think “we need a really bitching national anthem so when Shakira sings it it sounds all awesome” and that it would have shredding guitars and maybe a five-minute bongo solo. That new anthem cannot come fast enough. 7

Comoros. Your standard “we can do this anthem thing just as well as the Europeans can” anthem, but it lacks the trying-too-hard quotient that some African nations have. Feels like it was written very expressly for airport openings and fireworks celebrations, and would likely do quite well for those purposes. 60

Congo, Democratic Republic of. “HEY GUYS THIS ANTHEM IS GONNA KICK ASS BUT MAN ARE WE GONNA NEED A LOT OF TIMPANI PLAYERS! LIKE, I MEAN, WE’LL NEED ALL OF THEM! AND THEN THE HORNS, THEY HAVE TO PLAY EVEN LOUDER THAN USUAL SO WE CAN HEAR THE MUSIC OVER THE TIMPANI! DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE AMPS WE”RE GONNA NEED FOR THE STRINGS! THIS IS GOING TO BE SO AWESOME!” And then he was killed. 74

Congo, Plain old Republic of. Man, colonial France really left its mark on Africa, where every anthem from a formerly French-governed country seems to want to imitate the French anthem somewhat. (This one is even called “La Congolaise.”) It’s like how in the mid-60s suddenly every American boy band was trying to pretend they were the Beatles. (Additional fun fact: when the Beatles broke through in America for the first time, a quickie girl group called the Beatlettes was immediately formed to release “Yes, You Can Hold My Hand,” which is proof that America really, really wasn’t ready for the Beatles.) This is a more credible homage than most, though. 69

Costa Rica. So old it practically predates marches. If you close your eyes, you can see nineteenth-century gentlemen and ladies awkwardly dancing to this in a rounding square. An old don sits at the high table, overseeing the supposed courtly enjoyment, and sighs for the days when you were allowed to party with the native girls and nobody said anything. “Alas,” he thinks, “for youth is fleeting.” 28

Cote d’Ivoire. Another “Marseillaise” takeoff, this one called “L’Abidjanaise.” See previous comments on the Congo – the nice one, not the one where they kill everybody on an off day. 69

Croatia. Nice, dramatic anthem with the “bum bums” in the right place and lovely strings, which is proof that Croatia finally got something right after getting their nuts crunched in practically every war they’ve even been in and adopting a flag that looks like something out of a soccer club’s reject bin. Go on, Croats! 83

Cuba. Sounds like a rejected theme for Rocket Robin Hood. On the one hand, Rocket Robin Hood was kind of awesome when I was six. On the other hand, I’m not six now. 12

Cyprus. Doesn’t sound like the sort of national anthem where there would be massive civil war going on for years. Really, it sounds like kind of a tea party anthem. (Small “t” and “p”, to indicate an actual tea party, as opposed to something white Americans do when black Presidents get elected.) This just goes to show you that anthems are lies set to music. But at least this one is pleasant. 64

Czech Republic. The thing I love about this national anthem is that it is exactly half of the former Czechoslovakian anthem. Yes, the Slovak anthem is the other half of it. That’s so wonderfully practical. You have to love the Czechs and the Slovaks for being so calm about the whole thing. “You take verses one and two, we’ll take three and four. The children can sing as they like, but we won’t influence them. Well, we will, but we’ll be very nice about it.” Also, it’s quite a pretty anthem. 77

Denmark. You just knew that if there was going to be a national anthem with a flute solo, it was going to be Denmark. Denmark is the Jethro Tull of countries. Or possibly the Moody Blues of countries. Whichever one of those bands hates immigrants more, I guess. 78

Djibouti. Not enough shaking. 63

Dominica. Given how big an orchestra it takes to play this mammoth piece, I’m pretty sure that it can only be played when the entire population of Dominica gets together on a Friday night. But damn, this is an anthem that does not fuck around. It takes the theme from Masterpiece Theatre (okay, okay, Mouret’s “First Suite In D,” happy?) and makes it its bitch. 89

Dominican Republic. Originally the citizens of the Dominican Republic voted on what their anthem was going to be, and it came down to a close decision between this perfectly okay piece and a jazz song entitled “Hey! We’re Not Haiti.” Citizens often wonder if they made the right choice. After all, you don’t want people confusing you with Haiti. 70

• Share on Facebook.
• Share on Twitter.