Maximum Performance

GWAR's Oderus Urungus Dishes on Broncos, Bruno Mars, and Other Super Bowl 48 Fun

Maximum Performance

 

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GWAR frontman Oderus Urungus, whose band became the unlikely subject of a (serious) petition to bring metal to the Super Bowl's long history of inoffensive mainstream halftime acts, was not at MetLife Stadium on Sunday -- on stage or in the stands. However, he kindly took it upon himself to watch the big game and provide Yahoo Music with this exclusive review of its halftime show, featuring Bruno Mars and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. (Warning: There's a bit of language in this rundown, so if you are easily offended...oh, what are we talking about? This is GWAR!)

URUNGUS: I don't know why I am a football fan...compared to the death games of Skargaulon, football is a pretty poor substitute. I just don't understand sports where you can't rip off the head of your opponent and shove it up his a**. And I especially don't understand this concept of a "Halftime Show." Doesn't this take away from the time that the players could be killing each other and feasting on their remains?

But, as an alien overlord marooned on Earth, I have to make do with what I have. And what I have is football…and what I have to do today is review the Super Bowl Halftime Show, even after getting brainlessly wasted at the GWAR Super Bowl Party, which was a lot more fun than the game or the halftime show combined!

There was a collective groan of "barf" when Bruno Mars was introduced as the headline artist for this year's Super Bowl, which is kinda weird considering that he has sold millions of records. Why did people groan/barf (Broan? Garf?) when this talented young man was announced? He is a multiplatinum-selling international pop star, and can also play the drums!

I'll tell ya why…BECAUSE HE SUCKS! Human football fans don't want confusing, derivative pop CRAP… they want rock 'n' roll! NFL fans are generally loutish, verbose, and tacky. The perfect target audience for GWAR!

Soon after the world (or at least a small part of it) expressed its outrage at how lame the NFL halftime show has gotten lately, by introducing a petition at change.org proposing that the most outrageous band in history (us) be invited to play the 2015 Super Bowl. Yeah, right! I happen to believe that every human being on the planet could sign that thing and GWAR would NEVER be invited to play to play the Super Bowl.

[Related: Bruno Mars Tackles Super Bowl Halftime]

Yet soon after, the NFL announced the addition of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, a band that undisputedly put out a couple of ground-breaking records before Anthony Kiedis took off his shirt and ran up the beach in that stupid video, but at least they have Flea in the band, and Flea rules, and that was probably a run-on sentence. But around the GWAR Fortress, we hoped that maybe the #GWARbowl poll had something to do with the addition of some balls to the line-up.

Every vote adds to the cultural middle-finger the GWAR poll has become, and we are well past our goal of 50,000 signatures. The Peppers can still bring it, so maybe there was hope.

So I tried not to get too wasted and actually paid attention to the halftime show -- the one that WE will be playing next year, whether we get invited or not.

After watching the Broncos get their collective a**es kicked for a couple quarters, it was time for a few more stupid commercials, and then the legendary halftime show began! I was immediately bedazzled, then confused, by the intensity of the light show. I guess I had expected the Peppers to open with two or three numbers but quickly realized this had to be the domain of the headliner.

Then inexplicably there was a brief image of a bunch of kids holding hands and wearing earmuffs and singing about some crap…they were lined up perfectly for the flesh-shredding application of a long burst of machine-gun fire, but then it cut to some dude playing the drums on this cool platform, surrounded by his drugged followers.

It was Bruno Mars. Wow. I was completely underwhelmed. After a series of half-a**ed fills, the platform began to move backwards towards a stage where I hoped a manticore, or at least a good band, awaited. That's when I noticed the platform was moving because a bunch of dudes with laminates were pushing it…I mean, this is the f**king Super Bowl, can't they afford a robot or at least a rope?

By then Bruno had joined the band, which launched into a series of ultimately uninspiring upbeat pop-numbers. I was impressed by the retro-slickster look of the band, which seemed to underscore the generally uncreative, outlandishly banal nature of the entire proceeding. Sure, the kid can dance, he can sing, he's good-looking, his band is tight, his attitude is properly respectful, and it totally sucked.

After five minutes of hooks, breaks, notes and close-ups, not a single memorable moment had revealed itself (except for maybe that little moonwalk-splits thingy that he did). For the first time in my life, I found myself wishing to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

After an indeterminable wait through a wash of Bruno's musical blather, it finally happened! There they were! The Peppers hit the stage, and were not pushed there on a platform without a rope. I loved these guys' first couple of records and was really hoping to hear "True Men Don't Kill Coyotes," but "Keep it Away" [ed's note: sic] was still a pretty cool song, and hopefully they would get a couple more after that. But no! Kiedis made a bee-line to Bruno, wrapping his ancient carcass around the young man's leg, where the two creatures formed into one, even more hideous than either of the former as themselves. It was like watching your niece rapping with grandpa, and not the cool grandpa, the one that was on Steve Wilkoes. All I could think about was how I had read on the interweb that the Peppers' lead singer had been f**king Cher. [Ed's note: No, no Oderus. He just slept in the same bed with her as a child!]

They played the song for a while, and everybody was jumping up and down. At one point the guitar player had a seizure. Flea got a few seconds of coverage, which made me smile. It's always nice to see ugly people succeed in show-biz, especially when they kill on bass as much as Flea does, which few can. [Ed's note: Aw, give him a break. His body looked pretty killer, especially at his age.]

Speaking generally, it sucked, as did all the other pre-game musical acts. I made myself watch all the whole pre-game show, just to see how crappy it had really gotten. Every band was gutless pap. Like watching a show with nothing but "American Idol" winners on it. Oh wait. That's what a large part of music has become. CRAP.

And the Super Bowl was the biggest d**kless display since John Bobbit. No f**king balls either expect for the ones on a Flea. Bruno is a talented hack and the Peppers were an obvious last-ditch attempt to give some credibility to the bill, and it succeeded in a half-a**ed fashion. About the only good thing I can say about the experience in its entirety is I suppose it could have been worse.

Finally, it was over, and it was time to get back to the complete blowout of a game. I feel it would have been much more entertaining to take the two teams' mascots (a horse and a hawk), starve them for a week and then attach them to each other with a 30-foot length of bungee cord, after drenching each animal in the other one's sex smell. Just let them go at for a while, while the cheerleaders all have sex with each other.

And I have lots of other ideas, like instead of a rolling drum platform pushed by overpaid lunk-heads, have a giant meat grinder which s**t celebrities are fed to feet-first. But that will have to wait until GWAR gets it's own halftime show!

And there's one thing for sure…it will be f**king METAL!

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