U2 at the Superbowl, 2001ranting editorial
by jep clayton, fifth issue, 2001It had been my intention, this issue, to write a review of U2's Unforgettable Fire for the Overlooked column. In the face of U2's chameleon shiftiness, I thought it was worth reminding people of how great they had been once. I love that record. Then, accidentally, I saw the half-time show for the Superbowl. Initially I had just laughed, at how lame and awful U2's being on the Superbowl seemed. I stopped laughing when I started to figure out what was behind the band: two giant screens, scrolling with names … out of a phone book? No: it was the names of the people who died in the World Trade Center. I had just determined what it had to be, had just started to holler at how crass it was to use that as a backdrop at a Football Game Rock Show, when the song peaked (Where the Streets Have No Name) and the giant towels dropped to the stage, just as those other towels -- no, no, giant buildings full of real people -- had. The crowds cheered and cried, and Bono sealed the moment with a smug smile, opening his cool leather jacket to show the crowd that it was lined with the American flag. You could practically see his erection, he was so proud of himself. I was really shocked, maybe for the first time since the actual World Trade Center fell. Not even half a year later, the event was being used as a special effect in a pop show. I'm not even going to enter into why and how that's wrong; even explaining that would be wrong. It's wrong, however, on a purely moral level: it doesn't seem to be wrong at all in America, which has the mind-numbing ability to imagine itself as a giant Hollywood movie set, and through that, to get inspired by anything. On September 11th of last year, when the towers were tumbling on TV again and again, I'd come out of my shock to ask Marjan how long she thought it would be until a Hollywood movie came out about it. I'd felt guilty after I'd said it, because it seemed a rotten joke to make on that day, but I shouldn't have bothered. Now I am sure that it'll happen sooner than it ought to, and those Americans who didn't question the SuperBowl will eat it up. People described the U2 thing as "moving". People talked about how it reminded them of the tragedy, how that was great because "we should never forget". Of course the SuperBowl event's real meaning was that the general public had already forgotten -- not that it happened, but that it was real. This is the truly insidious side of American Capitalism, of which Hollywood is such a fine example: in the race for something to sell, and in the absence of any working moral scheme, nothing is safe from commodification. The result is political retardation, and artistic barrenness, both of which spread like viruses. U2's act is only a great example of what is happening in small doses all the time: the terrible state of radio; the simple acceptance of manufactured music; Courtney Love the movie star; PopStars; that sad, sold, awful little kid in The Sixth Sense; War On Terrorism trading cards. It ought to make more people angry, or at least sad.
"There are some objects of criticism that are immune to criticism, before which criticism can only fall back in wonder and awe, disarmed and stupid, and such objects seem to come in packs."
- Greil Marcus, "USA Combat Heroes", from In The Fascist Bathroom.