Saw Macca's halftime show. Survey says: Boring as fcuk. He started with "Drive My Car" and I nearly swore it was a sponsorship deal with Ford Blazers or something. Nicely done but not exciting. Then he went straight into "Get Back" and I wondered if he was going to change the line about "California grass." Happily, he didn't.
He had nothing to say to the crowd, really -- there must have been an incentive program behind that muzzle. Really, he's Sir Paul Fucking McCartney, he has more money than God herself, what has he got to lose by saying in between songs, "Dubya, you imbecilic twat, please toss yourself over a bridge, and by the way, I'm fucking glad I'm not an American right now"?
Instead of that he jumped straight from "Get Back" into "Live and Let Die," which I totally didn't see coming. A fireworks display was the perfect touch, though it didn't escape my attention that while displays of love and physicality are anathema to the reigning theocracy, a song with borderline violent overtones can be so celebrated and such wholesome family entertainment. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that on American TV you can have two men shoot each other but you can't have two men kiss each other. Live and let die, indeed: what does it matter to ya, when you've got a job to do, you've got to do it well.
Which was pretty much Paul's credo for this set. He finished up with -- shocker! -- "Hey Jude," replete with the obligatory singalong and the not-so-obligatory display of red, white and blue placards. Who knew a song about young Julian's reaction to daddy's divorce would become co-opted in the name of jingoism? Maybe Paul should have noted that this is the pain that results when a white man leaves a white woman for an Asian woman, to appease the fundie subset of the theocracy. (Is it only Bob Jones U. and the Mormons who are aghast at race-mixing, or do the SoBaps follow this too?)
Not exactly a proper review but that's where my head is at.
Gaz