Kendrick Lamar's Halftime Show Was A Masterclass Of Storytelling In Depth
The Compton native's skills were on full display in New Orleans, and it wasn't just Drake who took a beating.
“The revolution will be televised, you picked the right time, but the wrong guy.”
The beauty of art is that it is, in some cases, entirely subjective. The meaning of any song, painting, movie, poem, sculpture, et cetera, etc, is going to be in the eyes of the beholder. What do you, the consumer of this art, think? I heard the line, remembered the original “The revolution will not be televised,” and thought it was about himself, as in, “You don’t want me being the voice, I won’t say what you want to hear.” Others took it as a direct shot at President Trump, who attended the Super Bowl (hereportedly left sometime during the set)—America wanted a revolution, but picked a grifting billionaire who governs in the way of a Caesar, with bread and circuses. In this case, the bread and circuses are the unending grievances against those who would defend tolerance and decency, the rallies he holds where he drones on forever, the executive orders attacking any sense of diversity from straight, white Christian nationalist men and their female quislings.
Opening up with Samuel L. Jackson, dressed in an Uncle Sam outfit, announced, “It’s your uncle, Sam, and this is the Great American Game.” Lamar starts by rapping a few bars from the intro track of his newest album, GNX, titled “wacced out murals” before transitioning into “Bodies,” also from the new album, where he ruminates on still telling the truth twenty years into his career, carrying the heavy hearts of the community, carrying the darts from his critics, still being the best at what he does.
Next was “Squabble Up,” which (and I admit, I had to look it up) is Compton-slang for squaring up [to fight]. As this part ends, Jackson intervenes again. “No no no no noooo, too loud, too reckless, too ghetto. Lamar, do you really know how to play the game?” Uncle Sam is now acting as an elder statesman of sorts, warning Kendrick that he’s getting too close to the danger zone. The rich whites who own the NFL, the network execs, he’s making them nervous now.
You can almost see the smirk inside Kendrick’s head, so he responds with “Humble,” which carries a large dose of irony since Kendrick is hardly that in the lyrics. The American flag is formed by his dancers, divided in two, with Kendrick in the middle. Then the chorus, “Be humble. Sit down. Be humble. Sit down.” When the track was released eight years ago, the chorus was the voices of others in the industry, telling him to pipe down. Don’t brag. Now it’s different—it’s America telling black men to be humble, sit down. Don’t be proud, that’s not allowed.
The dancers moved off the steps in time to the chorus, then dividing up completely as Kendrick strolls from one side to the other, performing a medley of “DNA,” “Euphoria,” [his first shot fired at Drake ten months ago] and “man at the garden,” reminding us that he deserves everything he has.
Jackson again, “Ah, see you brought your homeboys with you. Culture cheat code. Scorekeeper, deduct one life.” Now Kendrick is on the “X” button stage, doing the first verse of “peekaboo,” dancers all in white, boxed in by the glass walls. He slams the brakes, teases doing “Not Like Us” by playing the beat for three seconds, just enough to get the crowd cheering, then swerves and goes into two of his mainstream hits, “Luther” and “All the Stars” with SZA. You know they’re mainstream because the crowd reacted harder to those than they had for anything preceding it.
His dancers are in formation now, resembling a marching band or a protest audience. “All The Stars” was from the Black Panther soundtrack, a film that was an ode to Black excellence, and the lights are flared brighter, the dancers continuing to march in time. And again, the voice of Uncle Sam interrupts, Jackson’s visage on screen. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. That’s what America wants: nice and calm. You’re almost there. Don’t [“Not Like Us” starts]. Mess. This….” and then Jackson departs, huffing at his advice being ignored.
Before he goes in for the kill on Drake, Kendrick is here to remind us it’s more than just Drake, it’s the whole mindset behind him. We get a special intro.
Dancers: Oh no.
Lamar: It’s a cultural divide, I’mma get it on the floor.
Dancers: You really about to do it?
Lamar: 40 acres and a mule, this is bigger than the music.
Dancers: You really about to do it?
Lamar: Yeah, they tried to rig the game, but you can’t fake influence.
Dancers: Then get on it like that.
Remember, Kendrick called Drake a colonizer, bashed him for calling Black people “some slaves,” accused him of only spending time around other Black people in Atlanta when he needs some clout. 40 acres and a mule was what was promised to former slaves at the end of the Civil War, and it was never acted upon. Kendrick’s telling the world that what he’s about to do is bigger than a music beef. At the 10:40 mark, on the part of the stage serving as a bridge, every dancer except the ones immediately around Kendrick hit the ground. Bodies on a bridge…twenty years after people fleeing the devastated lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans were shot on the Danziger Bridge by white policemen. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was bigger than the music.
On to the most crowd-pleasing verse, the camera tracking Kendrick as he’s circling his metaphorical prey (Drake). The grin, oh man, the grin Kendrick sports when he calls Drake out by name (“Say, Drake, I hear you like ‘em young”) is giddiness at what’s about to happen.
The circling gets tighter to the camera, and when he lands on the line, “He’s tryna strike a chord, but it’s probably A MINOR,” the entire Superdome gleefully joins in this live metaphorical murder of Aubrey Graham.
Camera cut way away from Kendrick. There’s a woman dancing under one of the streetlights: Serena Williams, an ex-girlfriend of Drake’s, a native of Compton, and who got dragged publicly by Drake after they broke up. Kendrick defended her then, and now, she’s getting her revenge, metaphorically dancing on the grave Kendrick dropped Drake into, and has the added effect of flipping off every critic who trashed her for doing this dance after winning Olympic gold in 2012.
One final segue, into “TV Off,” a track which has a marching band horn section in it, giving the performance an appropriate climax with that wall of sound behind Kendrick’s flow, the final words, “turn his TV off, turn his TV off,” tying back to the original line from Gil Scott-Heron, “The revolution will not be televised.” Layers upon layers upon layers throughout this performance. Kendrick spits his last “turn his TV off,” followed by a bleep, and the set goes dark, with the ghostly words “GAME OVER” in the stands behind the set.
For those who aren’t aware, Kendrick Lamar is the only rapper, hell, the only musician period outside of the classical and jazz genres to win a Pulitzer Prize. He combines the smooth style of flow that Snoop Dogg brought to the masses in the 90s with a lyrical depth that only a few rappers have demonstrated. I can say without hesitation that, outside of the 90s rap I grew up with, he and Jay-Z are the only two modern rappers I listen to. I think in Kendrick’s case especially it’s because he feels almost like a throwback to the 90s West Coast artists—vocal flow like Snoop, lyrical depth like Tupac, but his own energy. What we saw was just masterful, layered storytelling on a worldwide stage Sunday night. The fact that the racists on Twitter were pissed off and using their favorite slur of “DEI” to attack it shows what a nerve he struck. Highlighting Black excellence and America’s crimes against its Black population simulataneously, it is already a viral sensation. As I finish this, it is Tuesday afternoon, 4 pm on the East Coast, and it’s still the top trending video on YouTube with 35 million views and counting.
And now, my attempt at a verse to cap this off
No wonder Drake went Down Under/He’d best stay out of sight in North America/Because in this game there’s no longer a debate/When it comes to rapping, only Kendrick is great.