Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Andrew Sanford | News | February 6, 2026
It’s no secret around these parts that I’m no fan of the NFL. Part of it was a moral stance, brought about by issues that I won’t relitigate here, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t also motivated by the fact that I don’t like football. I’ve put up with abhorrent behavior from plenty of entities because they make or are involved with something I love (look at WWE or my beloved Texas Rangers). The NFL’s moral failings just made it easier to abandon something I only really participated in for social reasons to begin with, and even that was already waning.
So, for the last few years, I haven’t watched the Super Bowl at all and have been much happier for it. Last year, I took a friend out to dinner for his birthday, and we enjoyed being the only people in the restaurant aside from the staff. It was wonderful. The year before, my wife and I made fondue and watched a movie, interrupted only occasionally by a screaming neighbor who managed to have a friend over for the game (I say “managed” because this neighbor was… a real jerk). Both nights proved to be better than watching the game live, and I was still able to watch all the popular ads afterward (dystopian though that may sound).
I am not made of stone, nor am I immune to celebrity cameos that hawk some of my favorite products (and also Dunkin) or the premiere of trailers for movies I already plan to see. The tradition of Super Bowl commercials is more important to me than the game for which they are produced. But that doesn’t mean it’s just about brands and cinematic universes for me. Now and then, I’ll see a commercial that takes a big swing on the big night. Something that feels like it snuck by all the glitz and glamour despite its abject weirdness. This year, that honor is held by Manscaped.
If you listened to a podcast between 2015 and 2019, you’ve likely heard of the company. They make specialty trimmers for dudes to shave their faces, shoulders, butts, I think, and places that require a lighter touch, like the all-mighty gooch. I’ve never tried one of their products as I am not a hairy person (I can’t even grow sideburns, and my chest hair could best be described as “soul patch-like”). But, dammit, the company has captured my attention this year with one of the most wonderfully weird commercials I’ve ever seen, made in partnership with one of my absolute favorite performers.
The commercial in question features singing piles of hair, sweetly lamenting the fact that they once adorned the faces, chests, and aforementioned gooches of various men, only to be shaved and flushed away. Their eyes are big, expressive, and dementedly human. It rules! It’s not made with lazy, cringe-inducing AI, nor does it feel generated by some loser’s algorithm. This ad, dare I say, feels more like genuine artistic expression, so it makes sense that Nick Lutsko was involved!
I’ve waxed poetic about the singer/songwriter/comedian on this site before, but it bears repeating: the man is a creative genius. It’s not just that he makes hilarious songs about Halloween or the RNC; he’s also an incredibly gifted musician who can tap into raw emotions, like watching your child grow before your very eyes (listen here if you want a good, healthy cry). What makes Lutsko special is that he’s able to tap into that same emotionality, albeit in a sillier way, for a song about singing hair.
My guess is that, since Manscapped (or whatever firm they use) hired Lutsko, they knew what they were in for. But I’m certainly not going to give the credit to somebody in a suit just because they have good taste! This commercial is an example of somebody being given a gigantic stage yet retaining their artistic integrity. Millions of people will bear witness to Nick Lutsko’s signature brand of weirdness and, ideally, seek out the rest of his work. That’s way more important than some game.
