Kendrick Lamar's Halftime Show Wasn't 'Radical,' But Who Expected It To Be?
The rap superstar turned the Super Bowl stage into a giant game but didn't suggest how to win
Kendrick Lamar played on the term âthe Great American Gameâ with a polarizing, Samuel L. Jackson-narrated performance that felt like a Spike Lee Joint in music form. Like every Kendrick Lamar offering, the 13-minute-set left observers with a lot of takeaways â but they arenât all good things. Some found his commentary on the Black American experience as poignant, while others saw it as heavyhanded.Â
The discourse is all over the place, but Kendrickâs ability as a performer is undeniable. There were no backing vocals here. Kendrick marched up and down the Superdome more effectively than any player on the Kansas City Chiefs, rapping his vocals without missing a beat. His mic was low throughout his performance, but he still made the most of the moment with clarity, precision, and boundless energy. During his âNot Like Usâ performance, right after delivering the line, âSay, Drake,â he intentionally stared at the camera with a sneer that Drake will never forget (if heâs ever feeling masochistic enough to watch the performance). Iâve seen Kendrick perform several times; the most impressive thing about his live show is how he methodically chews through an hour of rapid-fire, tongue-twisting lyrics. The same was true in his condensed Super Bowl Halftime set; the only word he omitted was calling Drake a âpedophile,â and that was on purpose.
Itâs exciting to see hip-hop get played on the worldâs biggest concert stage. The genreâs Super Bowl precedent was set in 2022 with Dr. Dreâs extravaganza, where everyone from Eminem to Snoop Dogg and even Kendrick rapped their biggest, most widely recognizable hits. On Sunday, Kendrick took the show in a different direction. He rapped a still-unreleased song, album cuts âDNAâ and âMan at the Garden,â and a quick verse over beatboxing. Despite the outrage of right-wingers over the performance, hip-hop was in the house.Â
Sundayâs set subverted the traditional âjust the hitsâ halftime show approach to tell a story, centering commentary and symbolism at the core of the set. For many, the rubric of success wasnât the quality of Kendrickâs performance but the effectiveness of his message. The premise for his set was the Black American experience being akin to playing âthe Great American gameâ of trying to outrun racism Ă la Jalen Hurts eluding a rush. Itâs fitting that he crafted the theme for a football game, where some drives start five yards away from the endzone, and others start 99 yards away. Similarly, in America, opportunity is unequal by design.Â
Kendrick is one of hip-hopâs great conceptualists, often taking years away from music before returning with a new set of meticulously organized songs. Most of his albums present overarching themes interwoven by skits and co-stars like Eckhart Tolle and his fiance Whitney Alford. Unsurprisingly, he took on the Super Bowl with the same perceptiveness. Sundayâs set wasnât just him reeling off his most-streamed hits; songs like âAlrightâ were skipped in lieu of tracks that he feels fit the story of playing âthe game.â âMan at the Gardenâ is an introspective affirmation that we âdeserve it all,â while âDNAâ was important for him to hammer home the consequences of âwar and peaceâ comingling into the Black American psyche.
But, concept be damned, he knew there was one song that had to be in the set: âNot Like Us.â The record-breaking victory lap, which lambasted Drake and had everyone and their Presidential candidateâs mother co-opting the phrase, has been an unprecedented rap phenomenon. Weâd never seen a diss song with the legs of the Drake-toppling smash, and fans were eager to see its impact punctuated on the Super Bowl stage. Some viewers tuned in just to see if Drake would get called a âcertified pedophileâ on the worldâs biggest stage. While that didnât happen, the crowd of 65,719 people got to scream âa minorâ to the awe of Tyga and many other attendees. If nothing else, Kendrick got the chance to throw the last bit of dirt on the Drake era.
âNot Like Usâ was the highlight of a set that lulled a bit in the middle. SZAâs mic was definitely on during her guest appearance, but her and Kendrickâs slower tracks bogged down the energy. We get that he and SZA are about to embark on the Grand National tour, but slowing the vibes down for four minutes of a 13-minute set was a bit much. Samuel L. Jackson, AKA âUncle Sam,â narrates the set. He played a role similar to his portrayal of Dolmedes in Spike Leeâs Chiraq. Serving as an avatar for the American establishment, he chastises Kendrick as âToo loud, too reckless â too ghetto!â near the start of the set. By the time Sam is set to give Kendrick his approval, noting, âThatâs what America wants! Nice and calm. Youâre almost there, donât mess thisââ Kendrick then cuts in with âNot Like Us,â which exasperates Sam and causes him to walk offstage.Â
The showâs base was a giant board with PlayStation buttons on each corner, furthering the âgameâ symbolism. Tennis legend Serena Williams crip walked during the set as a shot at her rumored ex Drake, and a reminder of her trouble âplaying the gameâ despite her on-court excellence. In 2012, she was essentially called âtoo ghettoâ by detractors for crip walking at Wimbledon. Throughout the performance, Kendrick is joined by dancers in red, white, and blue outfits who eventually take the shape of a flag around Kendrick, symbolizing that Black Americans are the foundation of the countryâs development. Later, the dancers split up and lay on the ground, akin to visual artist Keith Haringâs dancing figures; viewers are left to ponder the meaning of the symbolism. And though his overall message was inherently critical of America for putting Black people through the wringer, the image of him steeped in a flag nonetheless feels like him amplifying nationalism.Â
Itâs fitting that Kendrick stood in the middle of a split flag during âHumble,â with people on either side of him. His adherence to the flag as a beacon of Black American pride feels parallel to the âacross the aisleâ pageantry American politicians periodically share. Kendrick, like Democrats and Republicans serving the American empire, proposes the same thesis: No matter how much weâre at odds, weâre all proud Americans. The flag is a cogent visual metaphor. The rap superstar turned the Super Bowl stage into a giant game but didnât suggest how to win. Similarly, Black America has varied definitions of victory in this society. To those who strive to succeed within the existing system, the idea of âreclaimingâ the flag is resonant. But for those who think we need to figuratively unplug the game and consider a more equitable mode of living, displaying the flag in any reverent fashion is a misstep.Â
Last year, I criticized Kendrick for using a giant flag in a teaser for the performance because it symbolizes imperialism. And the same is true of the human flag he displayed. Thereâs nothing to âreclaimâ about a flag established when Black people were not even considered fully human at this countryâs founding. Amplifying the flag, even while critiquing it, is akin to a subscription to the American project. For Kendrick, a rich celebrity, that alignment is a fine proposition. But for millions of poor people whose rights are being assaulted by President Trump daily, itâs a less avid endeavor. Throughout the 2010s, celebrities ran amok with political symbolism that cued to pro-Blackness and radical ideas. It scratched an itch at one point, but so many people desire more probing art that meets our dire moment. Kendrick is great at presenting imagery that, at times, feels representative of our plight but doesnât demand from the systems heâs critiquing. But once police buildings started burning in 2020, the bar for genuinely radical symbolism raised exponentially.Â
The disconnect between our desires and the toothless symbolism celebrities offer underscores that, ultimately, the problem isnât their execution but our expectations. An Apple Music-sponsored, NFL-sanctioned performance will never be ground zero for radical imagery or messaging. Sure, âUncle Samâ referenced the revolution being televised, but it just sounded good; Kendrick shouldnât have been expected to call for anarchy. During Kendrickâs performance, activist ZĂŒl-Qarnajn pulled out a custom-designed flag that highlighted the ongoing genocides in both Gaza and Sudan. He was run off the stage and detained, though not charged. Heâs also been banned from future NFL events. Yesterday, he told The Intercept that he asked himself, âAre you going to be brave? Are you going to be a coward? Are you going to take a stand?â
And no matter how fun the Super Bowl halftime show spectacle gets, we should never forget that all these recent selections are rooted in the NFLâs agenda to placate Black people who boycotted Colin Kaepernick, who was blackballed after taking a stand by kneeling during the national anthem. When it comes to genuine radicalism, we should look to the people who the establishment is punishing, not the ones they giddily present to us.Â