Miami, We Have A Problem

(But At Least It’s Not A Wardrobe Malfunction)

In the fall of 1976 I was a senior in high school and spent a great deal of time playing the trumpet in the “The Pride of the Wiregrass, The Carroll High School Marching Band.” One hundred and forty members strong-- could we ever make some noise (and occasionally play some pretty darn good music.)

Since our football team made a habit of winning about two football games a year, the main reason for anyone to come to our town’s elaborate concrete multi-thousand seat high school football stadium was to see the halftime show that our marching band put on for each game. All of us teenaged musicians considered ourselves to be in “high cotton” back then.

What I want to know is, what the hell happened in the past twenty-eight years? Was there some memo from the Pope or Executive Order from the President that said that a halftime show couldn’t be successful with just the marching bands from the two respective schools delivering a spirited rendition of a few Broadway show tunes or some 60’s rock tunes?

Of course there is the prescient set by the USC Trojan band when they got to record with and perform the song ”Tusk” with the band Fleetwood Mac back in the 1980’s. What a long way down things have sunk since then.

When did it become necessary for every televised college football bowl game to relegate the respective educational institutions hard working marching bands to the role of scrambling around on the sidelines like so many oversized ants while a few scantly clad or skin tight clad, so-called pop divas undulate seductively on a stage surrounded by a freak show of unisex dancers and exploding pyrotechnics?

Case in point, tonight’s FedEx Orangebowl featuring USC and Oklahoma. Luckily, my indifference lead me to tune in at the end of a one sided first half that had yielded a four touchdown lead for USC. I just hate lopsided football games unless it involves Georgia Tech on the winning side and that rarely happens.

I tuned in just in time to watch the event that is now considered a “football halftime show” featuring Kelly Clarkson, Trace Atkins, and, of all people…Ashlee Simpson A.K.A. Saturday Night Live’s candidate for the Milli Vanilli 2004 lip sync award.

I felt sorry for Trace Atkins being the serious hard working artist that he is, but at least we didn’t have to look at anyone’s private parts tonight (such that I noticed…)

Tonight's problem was a sound system malfunction instead of one of the wardrobe variety.

As soon as Miss Clarkson took the stage it was obvious that there was a problem with the lead vocal microphone. Her first verse and part of the first chorus featured her doing her best “mute mime” impression while the base guitar and drummer ruptured everyone’s eardrums with the rhythm lines of the song she was attempting to perform. This chick, being an “American Idol” winner for whatever that is worth, kept her composure pretty well and the technicians finally sorta-kinda got the mike mix figured out although it seemed to fade in and out for the rest of the song.

Trace Atkins was next and the vocals to his country song were fairly evenly muted and almost indiscernible if I hadn’t recognized the song he was doing.

Next came Ms. Simpson whom I am sure was already petrified at the possibility of having a repeat of her earlier SNL debacle where she was caught lip syncing when the sound technician played the wrong vocal track. Apparently she was attempting to actually sing this song and in spite of the volume irregularities she managed to writhe, wiggle, undulate, and pelvic thrust her way through the process without having a conniption fit and running off of the stage like she did on SNL.

Meanwhile, the Sooner and Trojan bands were relegated to running around the edges of the midfield pop/country performance like an army of ants and at no point in the process could you tell if a single trumpeter was trumpeting or tromboner was tromboning. Where are Mick Fleetwood and Stevie Nix when you need them?

Personally, I would really rather hear a nice John Phillip Sousa march just for old times sake once in a while….you know what I mean?