Was Bad Bunny Paid for His Super Bowl Halftime Show?
- Victoria Pfeifer
- 20 minutes ago
- 4 min read

When Puerto Rico’s Bad Bunny stepped onto the Levi’s Stadium turf to headline the Apple Music Super Bowl LX Halftime Show on February 8, 2026, 135M+ people watched. It was a historic moment, the first time a predominantly Spanish-language artist led the halftime show, blending reggaetón, trap, and cultural pride into one of the most talked-about performances of the year.
But as the confetti fell and the global buzz peaked, one fact about the show has stunned even seasoned music industry observers: Bad Bunny wasn’t paid a traditional performance fee for the Super Bowl. That’s right, the artist who just won Album of the Year at the Grammys didn’t walk away with a fat check for a 12-minute set in front of arguably the world’s largest TV audience.
So let’s break it down: why no paycheck? And more importantly, what does that say about how music and culture are valued in America’s biggest entertainment vehicle?
The NFL Doesn’t Pay Halftime Artists, Period.
This isn’t a Bad Bunny special; it’s been NFL policy for decades.
Artists who headline the Super Bowl halftime show, from Beyoncé to Kendrick Lamar, Rihanna, or Usher, don’t receive a traditional performance fee. According to league tradition and spokespeople, the NFL only covers production costs, travel, and sometimes union-mandated minimum wages for labor (often just a few hundred to a couple of thousand dollars).
In fact, past performers like Usher reportedly earned only $671 for his 2024 show and dancers only a few hundred dollars per day, the union “scale” required by SAG-AFTRA.
That’s it. No multi-million dollar appearance fees. No guaranteed payout for a global moment watched by 100 million+ viewers.
The “Payoff” Is Supposed to Be Exposure, Not Cash.
Here’s where the music business gets weird: The NFL and its partners treat the halftime slot like premier advertising space, not a concert gig.
It’s one of the most-watched broadcasts every year, often exceeding 100 million viewers.
Historically, streaming, sales, and artist visibility spike massively after a halftime appearance. For example, Rihanna’s music sales reportedly jumped over 640% after her 2023 performance, and Kendrick Lamar’s Spotify streams soared 430% following his 2025 show.
So the NFL’s logic is: we don’t pay you up front, because you’ll make more later in attention and monetization than any direct fee we could offer.
From a purely capitalist lens, it almost makes sense, but from an artistic one, it’s easily seen as exploiting visibility without actual compensation.
Artists Are Compensated With a Platform, Not a Paycheck

Think about it like a deal with a major corporation: The NFL spends millions on staging, lighting, cameras, sound, and logistics. When Apple Music became a sponsor, that production budget got even larger. But that doesn’t translate into pay for the performer. Instead:
The NFL offers exposure.
The audience they command is massive.
If your fanbase doesn’t grow, it’s on you, not them.
And in an industry where streaming numbers dictate tours, sponsorships, sync deals, and brand partnerships, that exposure isn’t nothing, it’s monetary currency with real value.
For an artist like Bad Bunny, an established global superstar with huge touring power, that exposure still translates into legitimate next-level commercial potential.
4. The Controversial Catch-22
Let’s be real: this setup is pretty wild when you think about it. You show up for what is arguably the most prestigious musical stage in the world, and you get... No negotiable payment. Instead, you get:
A megaphone to millions beyond your core audience.
A spike in streaming and catalog rediscovery.
Massive social media traction.
A revived cultural narrative that makes your tour, merch, and brand bigger forever.
But that’s also the catch: the only artists who can play this game are the ones who already don’t need the money, the superstars with brands, tours, and revenue streams that dwarf a modest performance fee. In other words... You gotta already be at the top to benefit from not being paid.
Why the System Persists

There are a few reasons this awkward tradition keeps going:
Brand Positioning for the NFL
The league wants its halftime show to be seen as a cultural moment, not a paid concert. Paying massive fees could make it look commercial in a way they think cheapens the spectacle.
Historical Precedent
Every performer who came before Bad Bunny played under the same terms. No one grandfathered in a new pay structure — and no public uproar big enough forced the NFL’s hand.
Artists Still Sign Up
Because the exposure legitimately works. Look at the numbers after past halftime shows, streams, and attention go through the roof. Even if you don’t get paid upfront, the swell in your metrics and brand power can launch tours and business deals that earn way more than a basic fee ever could.
But Here’s the Bigger Cultural Conversation
Bad Bunny’s Super Bowl moment is bigger than money.
He didn’t just perform, he brought Puerto Rican culture and Spanish-language music into a national spectacle that’s usually dominated by English-language pop. That was a legacy shift in itself.
But if you strip away the cultural impact, the business reality remains: There’s a power imbalance between the NFL’s revenue engine and the artists filling its stage. The league sells billions in ad dollars. Artists get the spotlight. That’s the deal. And whether it’s fair? That’s up to the culture to decide.
The Bottom Line

Bad Bunny didn’t get paid for his Super Bowl halftime show because the NFL has never paid any artist a performance fee for the halftime show; that’s just the way the contract works.
Instead, performers trade paycheck for unmatched exposure, a platform that historically explodes streams, visibility, and subsequent revenue opportunities.
It’s a move as strategic as it is controversial, and one that puts into focus how culture and commerce collide at the biggest moments in music. And for an artist like Bad Bunny? That collision just became one of the most powerful cultural pulses of the year.