‘This is bigger than the music’: Kendrick Lamar’s Political Symbolism at Super Bowl LIX
Often, to our delight, the Super Bowl Halftime Show is a perfect opportunity for the artist to exhibit their repertoire, singing fan favourites and the songs that have punctuated their career to date. To say that Lamar did not do this would be a disservice. However, he achieved so much more. His ‘show’ would be more aptly described as a ‘statement’. Staying true to his declaration during his introduction, there were “no more handshakes and hugs”. Conformity and acquiescence to the status quo were over, and what ensued was remarkable.
‘Salutations, it’s your uncle, Sam.’
Very early on in the performance’s narrative voice and conduit, Samuel L. Jackson introduces himself affectionately as Uncle Sam. Uncle Sam, as I am sure you already know, is a longstanding representation of American patriotism developing from wartime propaganda and frequently associated with imperialist ideology. Unsurprisingly, therefore, Uncle Sam is almost exclusively portrayed as a white man in the mass media. Kendrick’s move to deploy Jackson (with a strong play on words) in this way is not only counter-normative but also deeply metatheatrical. Jackson, ever the advocate for social justice, began his activism at Morehouse College and took many learnings from alum Martin Luther King Jr. His commitment to the black power and civil rights movement could not be summarised better than when he (along with other activists) locked the board of trustees of the college in a classroom until they agreed to alter the curriculum to accommodate the underrepresented black students. Ironically, one of those trustees was MLK’s father. Nevertheless, Jackson’s development from protesting against the establishment from his adolescence onwards to eventually representing the establishment (and the flaws therein) he was protesting against in a record-breaking halftime show is truly a full-circle moment for the African American actor.
A particularly subtle, but enormously powerful message is conveyed in Jackson’s suit. As I’m sure you know, the so-called ‘star and stripes’’ American flag has fifty stars. You may presume therefore the suit of Uncle Sam has 50. You’d be wrong. Lamar, in one of his subtlest moves, opts for only sixteen. Why sixteen? You may ask. The significance of sixteen in this case is the reference to sixteen free states. Albeit, a 16-star count of free states was never official, the below antique American flag supposedly assimilates Tennessee into the flag and excludes all of the slave states (as pictured below). Such a design is emulated in Sam’s jacket (also pictured) and is of particular interest when viewing this performance through a post-slavery lens.
“The revolution about to be televised, you picked the right time but the wrong guy”
This line in Lamar’s opening monologue (if you will) is notably exogenous to Kendrick’s discography and rather stems from Gil Scott-Heron’s poem-cum-song ‘The Revolution Will Not Be Televised’. Of course, Lamar does not quote this verbatim and goes to the contrary in his insistence that it [the revolution] will indeed be televised. Despite differences in their wording, Heron and Lamar are advocating the same thing. The essence of Heron’s song is that the revolution will not simply come to a disgruntled society — as ‘you will not be able to stay at home’ — and that the onus is on the listeners to have the willingness and proactiveness to affect the change as ‘the revolution will be live’. Kendrick Lamar, given the pun considering he was being televised to a record-breaking global audience, is advocating for the use of mass media, including the television he finds himself on as a vehicle to drive social change or the revolution.
Kendrick Lamar’s outfit choice insofar as his bell-bottom jeans (pictured below) are indicative of his counterculturalism. Associated with movements of anti-war, rebellion and non-conformism in the 1970s mimetic of the revolution Kendrick is about to insinuate. Aptly, this introduction feeds into ‘Squabble Up’. This song, as indicated by its title, is an intrinsically confrontational one, with Lamar aiming to confront the status quo.
Last, but far from least, is K-Dot’s reference to ‘the right time but the wrong guy’. The right time, it appears, is the present to revolt against the status quo which Lamar is hoping to inspire. The ‘wrong guy’ is not a self-reflective lyric, but rather aimed at a particular member of Sunday evening's New Orleans crowd — need I say more? In a time so conditioned to real and tangible societal change Lamar is echoing his frustration to compatriots who selected their populist leader. A further allusion is drawn to Trump via Lamar’s use of the crowd once again, this time illuminating a video game-like message; ‘Warning Wrong Way’ (as pictured below)- a damning indictment of the political climate but also a blatant message of disapproval.
‘The Great American Game’
Prior to Kendrick Lamar’s opening on top of his GNX, the crowd illuminates a ‘loading bar’ which incrementally counts up to 100 reminiscent of that in a video game (see below). This introduces the fundamental metaphor which prevails throughout the show; the notion of today’s America as a video game, an extrapolation of the power imbalance which neoliberalism affords. As this bar becomes full, Uncle Sam takes the opportunity to welcome the audience to ‘The Great American Game’. Of course, he is not referring to the Super Bowl as it appears prima facie but rather the following exploration of the disparity between the electorate and the elected, the controller and controlled. This imagery is furthered shortly thereafter by the four illuminated symbols found on the PlayStation controller at each corner of the stage. Various sources have suggested that the pattern that appears at the start (square, triangle, circle, cross, triangle, square, cross, circle, square, triangle, cross, square, circle, square) is a reference to a ‘max armour’ glitch in Grand Theft Auto.
‘Homeboys’
Uncle Sam after the ‘Man at the Garden’ performance refers to Kendrick’s ‘homeboys’ (as pictured below) as ‘the old culture cheat code’. Lamar’s intention could be perceived in several ways. One of these is a reference back to the ‘cheat code’ hinted at at the start. If we take this to be true, Lamar may be emphasising the importance of solidarity amongst marginalised and oppressed groups, in conjunction with his ‘homeboys’, Lamar has a ‘cheat code’ against the oppression he is facing. Perhaps, also a subtle point to the rest of his demographic, which Donald Trump particularly overperformed with. An alternative perception of this section refers once again to the marginalisation of the black population. Insofar as institutionalised racism and racialised policing which black people (are particularly) subject to evidenced unsurprisingly by the ‘rate of fatal police shootings among Black Americans [being] much higher than that for any other ethnicity’. Uncle Sam remarks ‘Scorekeeper, deduct one life’. To me, this seems to be a comment about the seeming banality and consequent lack of discourse. Jackson, a frequent critic of the police’s exercise of their force, here is ironically referring to the ease at which the ‘scorekeeper’ — perhaps metaphorically the police, government or other public body can ‘deduct one life’.
‘too loud, too reckless, too ghetto’
After Kendrick Lamar’s opening segment of the show, Uncle Sam remarks dismissingly of the performance as ‘too loud, too reckless, too ghetto’. This ironic reaction from the show’s centrepiece seems to be a reflection on the cynicism and preservation of the status quo in today’s America. The figure of Uncle Sam, representing America, condescending in such a manner seems indicative of the establishment’s resistance to change prompting Jackson to ask Lamar if he ‘really knows ‘how to play the game?’. In other words, suggesting he must appease and conform to society and the government. Nevertheless, Lamar doubles down on his identity irrespective of the views that ‘America’ may confer upon him. His next two choices of song, ‘Humble’ and ‘DNA’ share introspective undertones of Kendrick’s path to success, navigating his own American dream and his upbringing as a whole in Compton as he celebrates, critiques and explores his black heritage. Both Lamar and Jackson share the sentiment of another line from Kendrick’s opening- ‘starting from government cheese’ — provided to the beneficiaries of government welfare are now able to ‘seize the government too’- indicative of their maturity into social activism. Further, the choice to perform these two particularly introspective songs whilst his dancers (in red, white and blue) form an American flag (as pictured below). This is particularly interesting when considered in conjunction with notions of imperialism and post-slavery which Lamar explores more explicitly later in the performance.
‘nice and calm’
Lamar goes on to perform with SZA, performing ‘Luther’ & ‘All The Stars’. These two songs have a particularly slower and more tranquil feel than those that follow and precede. This prompts Uncle Sam to remark more positively ‘That’s what America wants…nice and calm’. Of course, implicit in this (and the deployment of Samuel L. Jackson as a whole) is the assumption that Uncle Sam or the demographic(s) that he represents dictate what America wants. In this case, the ‘nice and calm’, obedient and non-revolutionary- the conformists. I believe here Kendrick is trying to assert that a concerningly high degree of society would rather be entertained than educated, perhaps vindicated by some media outlets’ reactions to the show as a whole. Fittingly, ‘The Revolution’ against the will of the stakeholders broadcasting it ‘was televised.’ Nevertheless, true to his non-conformity and lack of ‘handshakes and hugs’, Lamar continues in defiance of Uncle Sam’s diktat ‘Don’t mess this up!’ by playing ‘Not Like Us’ immediately thereafter.
‘they tried to rig the game, but you can’t fake influence’
During his performance of Grammy-winning ‘Not Like Us’, the dancers making up the aforementioned American flag previously perfectly constructed become divided, jumbled and incoherent (as pictured below); which would also suffice as a valid description of the current political climate of the United States. Furthermore, during this segment, the vast majority of the dancers fall to the ground, seemingly playing dead. The exception is the inner circle surrounding Lamar, despite all dancers appearing from the same car at the opening of the show. One could argue this is a metaphor representative of the growingly technocratic and oligarchic presence flooding through the upper echelons of America- akin to Varoufakis’ technofuedalism. We should not be surprised by this preservation of the inner circle with billionaires accounting for 18% of electoral spending but a mere 0.0005% of the population in the midst of a crisis of rentier capitalism. This is particularly pertinent given the broadcaster of this year’s Super Bowl: Fox. Despite, formally resigning, Rupert Murdoch has contributed enormously to the creation of (and continues to wield power over) a media which facilitates and arguably enhances the rise of populism. Regardless, as Lamar says in his transition to this song — ‘they tried to rig the game, but you can’t fake influence’ — mimetic of his closing remark to ‘turn the TV off’.
Serena Williams
During this particular song, the cameras panned to an exuberant Serena Williams ‘crip walking’ (as pictured below). One Fox Sports ‘analyst’ referred to the same dance move 13 years ago after victory as akin to ‘cracking a tasteless, X-rated joke inside a Church’. He, and those perpetuating such a viewpoint, fit into the ‘entertainment-not-education’ category and Lamar’s purpose swiftly bypassed their anti-intellectual perspective. Serena’s opportunity to exhibit her culture, again on one of the world’s biggest stages, provides a valuable opportunity for cultural education and not an advocacy of gang violence as some may try to construe.
‘Forty acres and a mule’
If you tasked me with assimilating Lamar’s thirteen-minute halftime into a single lyric, I think I’d pick this one as the key explanatory line. First of all, its timing is noteworthy. This line which previously appears in Lamar’s 2018 ‘Wesley’s Theory’ comes directly before Lamar’s magnum opus ‘Not Like US’ given its traction positions it as perhaps the greatest message (of the myriad) that Lamar is trying to convey. Contextually, this phrase originates from a wartime order from Union General William Sherman during the American Civil War. In particular, Special Field Orders, No. 15 (series 1865). This order stipulated the allocation of land to some of the freed families in the aftermath of the Civil War — namely specifying a ‘strip of coastline stretching from Charleston, South Carolina, to the St. John’s River in Florida, including Georgia’s Sea Islands and the mainland thirty miles in from the coast’. This allocation was incorporated legislatively via the Freedman Bureau’s bill Irrespective of both the order and bill, the Southern landowners ended up retaining almost all of the land that was supposed to fall into the hands of the free, in the land of the ‘free’. The mule, by contrast, refers to the lending of mules from the army but in retrospect seems more apt to describe the foregone opportunity of agrarian productivity amidst the freed community who never had the chance to realise these economic gains. Rather, the status quo is perpetuated contributing to a growing distinction between the ‘controller’ and the ‘controlled’ a cornerstone of the ‘cultural divide’ Lamar goes on to mention and a likely motivation for the anti-capitalist motives contained in Lamar’s discography to date.
‘Y’all don’t wanna hear me, you just wanna dance’.
As Outkast (who notably declined the offer to perform at the Super Bowl in 2004) once said ‘Y’all don’t wanna hear me, you just wanna dance’. Kendrick Lamar, to an audience of over 126 million, perfectly positioned the fine counterbalance between art as in a vacuum or as a vehicle, to be consumed or contemplated or to be enjoyed or to educate. Ultimately, warning the viewership against an acquiescence to authoritarianism, that is ‘bigger than the music’.
“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” — George Santayana.
Thanks for reading,
Max X.
