‘Saturday Night Live’ looks back on the chaos of its live musical performances

For some of us, watching the Saturday Night Live 50th anniversary musical special was more stimulating than the Eurovision Song Contest. Almost everyone who has made a name for themselves in English-speaking music over the past half-century has graced the set of the veteran NBC comedy show: the Stones, Dylan, McCartney, Harrison, Aretha Franklin, Simon & Garfunkel, Queen, Bowie, Patti Smith, Nirvana, Prince, Beyoncé, Rihanna, Taylor Swift, Billie Eilish... Some of them not only performed their songs but also hosted and participated in comedy sketches (Mick Jagger was one of the most brilliant). And things didn’t always go smoothly, but they’re worth remembering. In fact, what’s best remembered is what went off-script.

The documentary Ladies & Gentlemen... 50 Years of SNL Music feels short at two hours because it has so much material to choose from. It’s not possible to enjoy all the iconic performances, and some big names are mentioned in passing or barely seen for a few seconds. The program focuses more on the musical numbers that didn’t go as planned, were downright disasters, or provoked a scandal.

The great value of SNL is that it is broadcast live, with an audience, from New York’s Rockefeller Center, with the exception of a few studio clips. This immediacy is a challenge for the comedians, who sometimes miss the mark or have to improvise. And it gives the guest artists unprecedented freedom to do whatever they want, even if it’s not what was agreed upon with the show’s director, who from day one has been Lorne Michaels.

A prime example: in 1977, Elvis Costello‘s band had begun playing the first chords of Less Than Zero, their latest release, when the musician decided they’d do a different song instead. “Sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but there’s no reason to do this song here,” he said before switching to Radio, Radio, with lyrics that were more caustic toward the media.

The situation with Rage Against the Machine was even more tense in 1996. The band, which boasts of its sonic and political rebellion, was scheduled to play on the same episode hosted by millionaire Steve Forbes, then a candidate in the Republican primaries. The band insisted on performing with U.S. flags upside down on the amplifiers; the show refused and removed them, but they put them back up seconds before going live, amid shoving and shouting until their last breath. Bulls on Parade was the only song they performed of the two scheduled, and they didn’t reappear for the final bows.

The most famous of the scandals was unleashed by Sinéad O’Connor’s appearance in 1992. The Irish singer decided at the last minute to sing Bob Marley’s War a cappella and introduced her own verses revolving around the sexual abuse of minors, of which she herself had been a victim. She then pulled out a photo of Pope John Paul II and tore it to pieces in front of the camera, which focused on her in close-up, as she had requested. “Fight the real enemy,” she proclaimed.

One of the biggest controversies in pop music followed, along with a boycott campaign against her in which hundreds of her vinyl records were destroyed. O’Connor explained in a statement: “I am an abused child. The only reason I opened my mouth to sing was so I could tell my story and make sure someone would listen.” Her cause is better understood today, given everything that has been learned since about clerical abuse.

It wasn’t the only unexpected message delivered into the SNL microphones. During his 2018 performance, rapper Kanye West donned a red Make America Great Again cap, Donald Trump’s slogan, and delivered a speech (not so unexpected for those who had been following him) denouncing the Democrats’ preference for Black people dependent on public assistance. He was booed, because SNL isn’t exactly Republican-friendly territory, but he kept his cap on until the final farewell.

On one of the rare occasions the performance wasn’t live, it went horribly wrong. An exception was made in 2004 for Ashlee Simpson to use playback, because she had a problem affecting her throat, but no one managed to synchronize what the band, the pre-recorded voice, and her lips were doing, so the singer danced a little jig before the show quickly went to a commercial break.

SNL boasts of being the first television show to feature rap and hip hop after Funky Four Plus One’s debut in 1981. But no act generated chaos like Fear, a California punk band, that same year. It began with a provocative joke: “It’s a pleasure to be in New Jersey.” To recreate the atmosphere of their concerts, Fear was accompanied by dozens of friends and fans who would jump on stage to pogo or mosh — that is, bumping and pushing each other around, jumping on top of each other, and shouting; one of them said into the microphone: “Fuck New York!” Things got out of hand, and damage to the stage was estimated to be at least $20,000 (the band itself boasted more exaggerated figures), in front of a stunned audience, unaccustomed to what they were witnessing.

Fear was invited by John Belushi, who deserves a special of his own. He was a unique comedian who delivered hilarious physical comedy. He began singing for some highly accomplished impersonations: the most brilliant was Joe Cocker’s, and he ended up performing it alongside the real artist (the same thing happened with Stevie Wonder, who was happy to be parodied by Eddie Murphy).

Belushi formed a blues vocal duo, which began as just another joke, with his partner Dan Aykroyd, and it ended up becoming a highly respected superband: The Blues Brothers, for whom they recruited top-tier musicians (Steve Cropper, Lou Marini, Steve Jordan...) and collaborated with notables (Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, and James Brown). They released a handful of good albums and a classic movie, but Belushi’s life was a troubled one, and he died in 1982.

Great music was and is being made on the set of SNL, and it would be great if its example spread to other shows and other countries. It’s healthy for the show to now also revive some of the performances that proved to be a nightmare. Some of the musicians who rebelled in a format that favors it took years to return to the show; some, like RATM or Fear, were never invited back (but their leaders were interviewed for this special).

Lorne Michaels, the eternal boss of SNL, says that he has never censored anyone: “We’re too rude and opportunistic.” It’s not entirely true, and commercial television is usually careful not to irritate advertisers. But with the passing of time, one can look back with kindness. It’s all for the magic of live broadcasts, the kind that is sorely missed on other shows, in other countries, and at certain festivals.

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