It was, in short, a mess, and all that was left at the end were the questions: Is it hopelessly old-fashioned to wonder if Coldplay wouldn’t have been better served simply playing a song or two in their entirety, rather than trying to cram as many orphaned choruses as possible into a short frame? (Kids these days may not have time for full LPs anymore, but surely they can handle a complete three-minute pop song without changing channels, no?) If Mars is one of the only truly old-school, razzle-dazzle song-and-dance men of his current generation, why not simply let him play every year? And as theoretically admirable as it was to see Beyonce bring a bit of meaning to her return to the Super Bowl spotlight - her dancers were outfitted in Black Panther chic, with “Formation’s” lyrics offering sly rebukes to race-based beauty standards - how much did the political subtleties of her performance really register amongst the portions of CBS’ viewership who didn’t already know to look for them? The motley crew then crooned an almost post-musical medley of “Fix You” with stray lines from halftime performances past, while the archival montage did all it could to make viewers forget they were supposed to be watching an actual live performance. As evangelically, performatively worshiped on social media as Coldplay are snarkily dismissed, Bey gave an arresting, drill-squad-style rendition of her just-released single, “Formation.” Offering the show its only shiver of sex appeal, only shot of menace, and only ghost-note of political engagement, Beyonce was clearly inhabiting a different, far cooler planet than Martin, Mars & Co., but before even she could hit her groove, we were back to center stage. Then, of course, it was over to Beyonce on the other side of the pitch. (Although, to Coldplay frontman Chris Martin’s credit, he at least made an effort to introduce some tiny glimmers of rawness into an inevitably canned performance, allowing several audience members to sing into his mic.) The quartet hardy had a moment to catch their breath, however, before the cameras swiveled over to the right, where Bruno Mars, Mark Ronson and a posse of leather-clad dancers slammed through a good 90 seconds of “Uptown Funk,” with a soupcon of James Brown and Morris Day thrown in for good measure. The band’s quick, four-song medley opened the set mid-field, accompanied by some Up With People-style choreography, but with knowledge that the bigger guns were yet to come, they ultimately felt like an opening act. Yet with the far flashier Bey and Mars - both of whom turned in solid halftime slots in recent years - announced as secondary performers shortly thereafter, Coldplay seemed resigned to politely allowing themselves to be played right off their own stage. ![]() They are, however, arguably the only mass-appeal pop-rock act not yet eligible for Social Security that could make a reasonable claim to the sort of universality that has become the gig’s primary pre-requisite, so their booking certainly made sense. She was nasty, in the superlative Janet Jackson sense of the word, and a force of nature as she and her posse took on Mars and his boys in a mini dance-off that had far more thrilling moments than the game’s tepid first half.Īn all-but-forgotten Coldplay, with Martin on piano, came back for a montage of some of the past halftime’s greatest hits, including Springsteen, the Rolling Stones, and, of course, Michael Jackson before Mars and Beyonce, who helmed Super Bowl 47 half time, joined the band for the sign off as the crowd held up colored cards that spelled out “Believe in Love.Coldplay, first announced as the halftime headliner back in early December, is not a popular band in certain cred-obsessed corners of the Internet. Just when it seemed like game, set, match to Mars, along comes Beyonce with her girl army in tow to sing “Formation,” the fierce anthem she dropped yesterday. Dressed in black leather and flanked by similarly-dressed back-up dancers, Mars, who appeared on Super Bowl 48 with Red Hot Chili Peppers, tore up the stage like no one since Michael Jackson with his electrifying dance moves. Then Coldplay ceded the floor- and the halftime- to Mars, who, with Mark Ronson spinning, launched into their “Uptown Funk,” simply one of the catchiest songs of the past decade. ![]() What Martin lacked in vocal prowess- he’s normally a much stronger singer, so there was either something wrong with his voice or the sound mix was shaky-he made up for in boundless energy, joy and a true sense of community, saying into the camera, “Wherever you are, we’re in this together.”
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