Absolute Last Super Bowl Springsteen Addendum: Did He “Misread the National Mood”?


“Booooo! Play something depressing!”

Not to overwhelm you with the Boss here, but Slate‘s take on Sunday’s festivities, entitled “He Should Have Played ‘The Wrestler,'” deserves mention. Essentially, Steven Metcalf asserts that in this wintry economic climate — “the national mood is sober bordering on a galloping panic” — Bruce’s ebullience and crotch-flaunting antics were ill advised. What America wanted, mere seconds after a shock interception/100-yard touchdown return, was somber reflection. “Springsteen would have put America on its ass — its mind shortly to follow — had he strolled out with a Martin and played “The Wrestler.”

Actually, all of America, which in the midst of a near-galloping panic has come out overwhelmingly in favor of Paul Blart: Mall Cop, would’ve changed the channel simultaneously, to Wipeout: Cheerleaders vs. Couch Potatoes or the Puppy Bowl or whatnot. (Do they still do the Puppy Bowl? I hope so.) This is partly because, 401K woes aside, we as Americans overwhelmingly prefer Elated Bruce to Funereal Bruce, and certainly doubly so in the middle of the goddamn Super Bowl. But let’s not forget that “The Wrestler” sucks. Terrible song. Immensely pleased at its Oscar snub. It’s just “mellow acoustic Bruce” autopilot; if you’d locked him in a room for 45 minutes with a Martin and a copy of the script for Paul Blart or Motel for Dogs, you’d get the same result. Abject boredom. Stop disrespecting the crotch, Slate. And lay off of “Glory Days.”

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