Historically speaking, the Super Bowl halftime show usually falls into one of two categories: mind-blowing clusterfuck or state fair parade of lame. Examples of the former include the 2001 “song fight” between Aerosmith and ’N Sync (culminating in a giant end-all version of “Walk This Way” performed by both bands plus Britney Spears, Mary J. Blige, and Nelly) and last year’s hypersexual twelve minute Prince guitar solo. Examples of the latter include 1997’s “Blues Brothers Bash” (finally, Jim Belushi and ZZ Top on the same stage!) and 1994’s quadruple country music threat of Clint Black, Tanya Tucker, Travis Tritt, and the Judds. There have been a few halftime shows that defy these basic parameters of classification. 1989’s Coca Cola-sponsored 3-D Elvis impersonator extravaganza comes to mind. Also, 1995’s Indiana Jones and the Temple of the Forbidden Eye, wherein everyone’s favorite fictional archeologist reunited with his spunky girlfriend Marion Ravenwood to rescue the Vince Lombardi Trophy from the aforementioned evil pagan structure. Something tells me there won’t be any acknowledgement of their perilous NFL-sanctioned adventure if Indy and Marion meet up again in Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
Alas, skeletal Tom Petty and his creaking Heartbreakers made it through four whole songs without any interruption from the One Gloved Wonder or anyone else resembling a Roswell crash victim. The most exciting aspect of this Jacksonless presentation was Petty’s shaggy beard, which everyone at the Super Bowl party I attended was hoping would detach from the craggy singer’s head and transform into something slightly more interesting than four or five old guys playing half-baked farm rock. Again, disappointment – Petty’s facial hair stayed in place for the whole shebang. Thus, the Super Bowl XLII Rockin’ Halftime Spectacular (Sponsored by Bridgestone!) was just another faint reminder of ferris wheels and cotton candy past. There were no explosions, no 3-D effects, no song fights, not even one goddamn exposed breast. Of course, Tom Petty’s never been the type of guy to roll with any of those things, so I can’t say I was expecting anything more than a casual run-through of songs that used to excite me when I was twelve.
So now we turn our attentions to next year. Which way will the pendulum swing in 2009? Who will be burdened with the multi-million dollar time killer that most people rank a distant third behind the commercials and the actual game on their list of Super Sunday priorities? Call me crazy (and I’m sure you will), but I think the Beastie Boys would be fantastic halftime performers. They’re fun, they’re lively, they have a few songs people John Travolta’s age remember, and none of them have Janet Jackson’s milkers. You know they’ve been asked at least once to do a Super Bowl halftime show. That’s probably why we got those 3-D Elvis impersonators in ’89. Ad Rock, MCA, and Mike D wouldn’t cowboy up. Next year, I want to see three MCs and one DJ getting’ down on the fifty yard line with no delay. In lieu of that, I’ll take another Indiana Jones thing.
