This article was originally published in Pan M 360, and as part of an article-sharing collaboration with them, we are sharing it here.

I happened to stumble upon a scathing critique of the Super Bowl halftime show, written by Jean-Charles Lajoie, aka JiC, a sports host and columnist whom I respect—I actually watch his daily show on TVA Sport quite often. Sharp, intelligent, experienced, knowledgeable, outspoken, a great showman on TV, and an excellent communicator.

But… being outspoken sometimes means going overboard and being impertinent. On that note, JiC should really keep quiet about hip-hop—or at the very least, express a humble, unfavorable opinion as an outsider rather than indulging in the peremptory tone of his awful column published this week in Le Journal de Montréal. I encourage all music fans to read this anti-rap screed.

“But we have the right to expect a more spectacular performance on the grand stage of the Super Bowl halftime show. Personally, I want a dazzling and explosive production, visual and pyrotechnic effects—I want it to be bigger than big. I also want it to be inclusive.”

Inclusive? Oh really?!!

“Excluded” from the party, JiC and so many white men his age (fifty and up) still haven’t grasped that hip-hop has been overwhelmingly dominating Western pop music for two decades. That the majority of Westerners enjoy this style effortlessly. That hip-hop has existed since the late ’70s… Hello? That Kendrick Lamar doesn’t put on a bad show just because he raps—especially when he’s surrounded by exceptional artists, from Samuel L. Jackson as Uncle Sam to Serena Williams’ crip walk on Drake’s symbolic grave, or the smooth vocals of SZA.

Does SZA ring a bell, JiC? Her Grammys aren’t enough for you to feel included, even though you surely know Bruuuce, Robert Plant, or Metallica? Can’t stand rap? If you don’t keep up with pop culture, which is now completely dominated by soul, R&B, and hip-hop, it’s understandable that you feel out of place… and, all in all, it’s also understandable that you’re utterly ignorant of today’s mass pop culture. Yes, I’m laying it on thick, but your crust deserves a generous coating—just as that old Velveeta commercial once suggested. I’ll give you this: no one’s demanding that you like it, but… an ignorant person speaking with authority and grandiloquence on such a media platform? That’s pretty lame.

Oh sure, JiC, you know Lady Gaga, you’ve heard her with the late Tony Bennett and maybe even with Bruno Mars last week at the Grammys. That is inclusive, isn’t it? Yet not a single word about the superb New Orleans artists invited before kickoff—Terence Blanchard, Jon Batiste, Trombone Shorty, Lauren Daigle, and Ledisi—some of whom have visited Montreal a few times… playing to packed venues. Meanwhile, Lady Gaga, whom you rightfully praise, is now familiar even to nonagenarians on this continent.

But why speak out so loudly on art when you only recognize a single artist from the Super Bowl halftime lineup?

The host and columnist goes even further:

“Ever since the NFL handed control of its Super Bowl halftime shows to Jay-Z, I feel more like I’m enduring 13 minutes of propaganda than experiencing a collective moment of release at the biggest football party on the planet.”

Now, that is total nonsense, JiC.

If Bruce Springsteen had performed a few of his politically charged songs, I’d bet a ten that you’d have thought it was super cool. Yet Kendrick—one of today’s greatest rap lyricists (aside from his stubbornness in playing that ridiculous testosterone-fueled feud with Drake, though Drake did start it)—gets accused of propaganda. And by whom? A white man who clearly knows nothing about his monumental body of work. Unconscious bias? Well, yeah, JiC. And sure, I’ll probably get labeled woke at the ripe age of 67. Just saying…

As a die-hard NFL fan, I personally watched the Super Bowl on Sunday in a cozy, welcoming living room filled exclusively with white men in their sixties and seventies—guys from my generation whom I genuinely love and have known for decades. Some of them reacted just like JiC. One friend even asked me, “Why hip-hop at the Super Bowl?”

At first, I hesitated. I can fully understand, accept, and respect that sentiment—it’s best not to antagonize and kill the vibe. In a gathering of friends, over such a minor detail in life, it’s really not worth making a fuss. But I must confess I couldn’t hold back when another dear friend declared that it was the worst halftime show in Super Bowl history.

Oh really? Okay.

If you don’t really like hip-hop, it’s totally fine to express your disappointment… but to go as far as to make such an extreme statement?

The tone of this disapproval probably would have been different if we’d been in the company of our children or younger friends in their twenties, thirties, or forties. To be fair to my buddies, their remarks were far less extreme than those of host Louis Lacroix, who tweeted that it looked like street gangs had taken over his TV—a reference to the halftime show. The poor guy has since apologized for spewing such racist nonsense.

And no, maybe it wasn’t the best halftime show… but it was certainly not the worst. Not the best 3D effects, but certainly not the worst. Maybe not the best choreography, but definitely not the worst.

As for rap and Kendrick’s lyrics—whose detractors are completely unaware of their exceptional quality—it must be reiterated to the uninitiated that he is one of the most brilliant songwriters America has produced in the last 30 years.

His editorial stance during the Super Bowl halftime show was a critique within the entertainment itself—without denying the joy of being there. That is not propaganda.

Moreover, Kendrick surrounds himself with some of the most talented musicians and beatmakers on the West Coast and beyond. And I can testify that he has delivered some of the greatest hip-hop shows ever staged in arenas and stadiums worldwide.

So when a white Quebecois commentator (just like me) expresses such ignorance, such disdain, I feel ashamed.

But I forgive you, JiC. I still love you today.

You didn’t know what you were doing—just as another JC once said in different circumstances.

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