
The lights rise. The stadium roars. Then a hush. On the giant screen, through a swirl of smoke and electric guitar feedback, the unmistakable silhouette of Ozzy Osbourne emerges. Not in body, but in spirit. In a move that will be dissected by fans, marketers and music historians alike, Workday’s 2026 Super Bowl spot titled “Rock Star” becomes more than a commercial—it becomes a resurrection, a final bow for the man who defined rebellion.
The Setup: Corporate America Meets Metal Legend
What began as a tongue-in-cheek jab at office speak (“You’re a rock star!”) has matured overnight into an elegy of sorts. Workday first introduced the campaign in previous games, featuring rock icons telling Wall Street-speak office-types to step aside and let true rock stars have the mic. But at Super Bowl LX, the “Rock Star” spot shifted tone. It wasn’t just metaphoric—it felt transcendental.
In the ad, we’re plunged into a corporate work-world, cubicles and coffee mugs glinting under fluorescent light. Suddenly the lights flicker, the soundtrack darkens, and Ozzy—or his spectral avatar—appears. He doesn’t trash a hotel room this time; he walks through an empty office, suit jacket loosely draped, eyes heavy, bearing 50 years of riff and risk. He sits at a desk, name badge hanging: “Oswald.” The message: the legend returns to claim his title.
The Resurrection Sequence
The sequence is worth unpacking. First, cut to a standard boardroom. Executives pat each other on the back. “You absolutely crushed that budget, you rock star,” says a manager. A wink to corporate jargon. Then the screen distorts. The opening guitar shriek of “Crazy Train” (or a subtle variation) plays. A hazy spotlight. Smoke. Ozzy stands on a stage—but it’s the office ceiling. He addresses the camera, saying: “I am the rock star.”
It’s chilling. The merger of metal and cubicle reminds us how far from the real deal the phrase “rock star” has drifted. The campaign now isn’t merely comedic. It’s elegiac. A reminder of what we’ve lost in the banal: reckless abandon, real artistry, the raw electricity of a demon-voiced man who once bit the head off a bat, for crying out loud.
Why It Hits Now
Why is this such a perfect moment? Because Ozzy has reached the mythic stage of his career. While still alive, his touring days are behind him. His legacy looms larger than ever. By casting him in this ad—not as a cameo, but as a manifest symbol—Workday taps into nostalgia, cultural redemption, and the grandeur of metal’s twilight era.
Plus: Super Bowl ads are rarely remembered for depth. But this one flips the script. By doing so, it draws clicks, shares, memes. People will dissect every frame: the tie loosened, the boards of the table scratched with a pick-mark, the fading autograph on the wall behind the executive. The music world will talk. The business world will laugh—and wonder.
The Emotional Undercurrent
There’s a supernatural undercurrent here. Ozzy is not alive in the literal sense of performing night after night, but his spirit is invoked. The ad suggests that “rock star” is not a title you give yourself. It’s not a team-meet-after-Q4-and-say-hey sprinkle. It’s earned in blood, riffs, sleepless aisles of airports, and lit-up arenas. This ad tries to revive that truth. The message: stop misusing the word. Unless you’ve shredded a guitar on an airplane aisle and still walked offstage smiling.
Today’s corporate world is flush with “rock star” badges. Everyone’s a rock star. No one is. By bringing in Ozzy’s apparition, Workday gives the term gravity again—and in doing so, gives themselves the kind of brand lift most enterprise software firms could only dream of.
Cultural Ripples & Memes
Expect the internet to explode. Clips of “Oswald the Office Rock Star” will be GIF-ified. The hashtag Rock StarWorkday will trend. Fans of Ozzy will point out the little nods—the boardroom shot that mimics a stage shot, the shadows that echo “War Pigs”, the coffee mug with the “O” logo. Corporate types will mock their own HR meetings. And in Instagram stories, will appear the meme: “Me after I finish the spreadsheet: I’m a rock star.” Then flash to Ozzy’s ghost-like figure saying: “No you’re not.”
Reddit threads will pop up:

I absolutely loved this commercial… one of the best adds from this Super Bowl.”
“He looked cute in a tie x”
Yes. That kind of affectionate, oddball attention.
What It Means for Brands (And Us)
From a marketing standpoint, this is gold. Brands spend tens of millions for thirty seconds during the Big Game, and yet most fade within a week. Here, Workday leverages pop culture, star power, and emotional resonance. They don’t just sell software—they sell legacy. They jokingly dial down the term “rock star” while simultaneously rewriting it. And in that rewriting, they anchor themselves in the cultural moment.
For audiences—even those who don’t use Workday—the spot gives pause. It asks: when did we start calling desk jobs “rock star” gigs? When did the word lose what made it special? And maybe: when did we lose the real rock stars?
A Final Bow
The ad ends not with a bright screen or logo blast but with a gentle fade. The office lights dim. Ozzy rises from the desk, picks up a guitar that’s been leaning against a filing cabinet, strums a single chord, then vanishes into smoke. The screen cuts to black. The Workday logo appears quietly: “Make real rock stars of your business.”
It feels like a tribute—of life, of legend, of what the word “rock star” once meant. To see Ozzy’s spirit rise one last time in such an unexpected context is moving. It’s as if the “Prince of Darkness” has been summoned to the boardroom, only to remind modernity that real rock lasts.
And in that moment, every executive, every brand manager, every “rock star” in the Zoom meeting has to reckon with it.
Because you may crush your quota. You may lead your team. But until you’ve ripped a riff at midnight, walked off a flying stage, bat in hand or not, you’re not a rock star.
Workday’s “Rock Star” returns. Ozzy’s spirit roars. And for one glorious minute in Super Bowl LX, the boardroom becomes a stage, and the legend becomes our wake-up call.

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