Bizarro Bowl XXXV
Source: http://www.sptimes.com/News/122400/Floridian/Bizarro_Bowl_XXXV.shtml
With the Backstreet Boys, 'N Sync, Ray Charles, Aerosmith, Sting, PYT and Styx all booked to play at the Super Bowl, you have to wonder what kind of weirdness they'll bring.
By GINA VIVINETTO
With all the brouhaha surrounding the musical fare at Super Bowl XXXV next month in Tampa, it's starting to feel like an episode of Fantasy Island.
What act hasn't been invited?
The lineup includes teen pop sensations the Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync as well as the legendary Ray Charles. Oh, yes, British pop star Sting, too, will be there.
Also, Aerosmith.
Did I mention all-girl singing group PYT?
And, um, Styx?
Come again? Styx, you say? The guys who last scored a hit in 1983 with that ode to technology Mr. Roboto? Back in the days of Pong, for cryin' out loud?
Those Super Bowl folks forgot only Charo.
What a weird line-up. Doesn't it feel like one of those parties where you purposely invite a bunch of people, including your loser friends, just to take up space and assure it will be well attended? In this case, everyone RSVP'ed in the positive. Oops!
The Backstreet Boys get to sing the national anthem, and ol' Ray is crooning America the Beautiful. Everybody else, I guess, is either a half-time honey, or, in the case of Sting and Styx, the pregame warm up.
But, this roster makes me uneasy. It's scattered. It's overkill. Don't you look at this lineup and feel a premonition of doom? Like something could go terribly wrong? I mean, something worse than having to hear Come Sail Away again? Call me fatalistic, but I can picture a few frightening scenarios:
FREAKY FRIDAY: Just like in that wacky flick Freaky Friday starring Jodie Foster and Barbara Harris, halftime acts 'N Sync and Aerosmith secretly envy each other during rehearsal on Super Bowl morn.
"Wow, the adulation of millions, top of the charts and Britney Spears!" Aerosmith singer Steven Tyler muses, watching 'N Sync go through dance steps.
From the stage, 'N Sync's Justin Timberlake and Lance Bass think, "Man, those Aerosmith guys have it made. All those chicks, of legal age. Artistic freedom. Actual musical ability. Facial hair."
In short, both acts simultaneously ponder what would happen "if I could be you for a day."
Zoinks! Suddenly Tyler and Joe Perry -- the "Toxic Twins" of Aerosmith -- are significantly less grubby. Sporting matching space-age metallic outfits and hair gel, both prove to be adequate dancers.
Oddly, it's guitarist Perry who steals the show. He bumps, he grinds, he clutches his head -- Whoa! Careful not to muss the hair! -- he swivels his hips. (Perry even does an impressive "Running Man.") Tyler fumbles with his newfangled headset, unable to figure out how to merely move them big ol' lips without actually singing.
Backstage Tyler, magic marker in hand, is ready to autograph some breasts. Instead, he is showered with teddy bears from 12-year-old girls who shyly ask for a hug.
'N Sync performs with Justin and Lance decked out in skintight spandex, filthy hair and feather boas. Justin, whose unbuttoned shirt reveals scant chest hair, mugs for the camera, opening his mouth super wide and lasciviously wagging his tongue.
Both refuse to adhere to scripted 'N Sync choreography. It's mayhem when Justin rubs up against the mike stand, covered now in gaudy bandanas. Lance unwittedly strums a guitar. He has no clue what the instrument is, but heck, it's fun!
Prepubescent girls around the nation are glued to their TV screens, curious.
YOU'RE UNINVITED: The cast of Stomp, the Vienna Boys Choir, Alanis Morissette and Barney the Singing Dinosaur realize with chagrin that they are the only musical "performers" not on the Super Bowl bill. They react by crashing the game, rushing the stage adorned in California Raisin outfits and dancing behind an unaware Ray Charles.
STING GETS STUNG: Our British friend Sting realizes during his performance that American "football" is not the U.K. soccer game to which he's accustomed. But it's too late: The American audience, decked out in wacky face paint and rainbow-colored Afro wigs and raising John 3:16 banners, pelts Sting with insults worse than "Limey, go home!" and "Get a real name, jerk!"
Holistic, spiritual and possibly vegetarian, Sting takes it in stride, relying on deep Tantric breathing and one or two quick sun salutations before launching into Roxanne, that song about fancying a hooker.
DIVA PATROL: A shaken Whitney Houston for once shows up on time, though she's not one of the scheduled performers. Regardless, her rendition of the national anthem is pretty good, even if it means the only stage time the Backstreet Boys get is when little Nick Carter tenderly wipes Whitney's brow with a towel.
TESTOSTERONE ZONE: Maybe it's a lunar thing. Could it be the unusually high amount of male energy from a stadium full of beefy sports lovers, the kind of men who eat what author Mark Leyner calls "testosteroni, the pasta for men"?
Whatever, something sparks all five of the Backstreet Boys to hit puberty at once, causing voices to crack and blemishes to surface. Their careers over, the Boys beg Styx singer Dennis DeYoung and guitarist Tommy Shaw -- who still unironically sports that Little Dutch Boy hairdo -- for advice.
Wait, DeYoung tells the quintet. Wait a good long time until you're convinced nobody remembers who the heck you are. Sure enough, just when you're convinced you're an utter has-been, De Young muses, you're playing the Super Bowl!
Shaw agrees, but adds some gibberish about artistic merit. If you really pour your heart into it, Shaw tells the perplexed Boys, your music will never be dated, always it will be fresh and edgy, kind of like Atari.
THE SHOWDOWN: The two biggest boy bands in one place, at one time? It defies universal laws. The atmosphere shifts as Backstreet's Kevin and N'Sync's Justin get into a backstage fistfight over a hair dryer. The sky bursts open, locusts appear. It looks as though Super Bowl XXXV may be doomed. But wait! Here's Ricky Martin, that liver of la vida loca, and some old chums from Menudo to save the day. So what if it's the national anthem en espanol? One thing we've learned from Britney, 'N Sync and all the other teen acts spawned at Disney: It is indeed a small world after all.
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