Same as it ever was.
Getty Images Kevork Djansezian
The music industry is routinely criticized for its neurotic obsession with all things teen and pre-teen, but you'd never have guessed it by watching last night's 57th annual Grammy Awards, broadcast live from Los Angeles' Staples Center. The proceedings kicked off with senior citizen Australian hard rock vets AC/DC ripping through classic rock hits “Rock or Bust” and “Highway to Hell.” Jittery Grammy cameras quickly cut to audience reaction shots to make sure viewers knew just how much attendees like Dave Grohl and Lady Gaga were digging it. Later in the show, a determined Madonna got both randy and limber to deliver new single “Living for Love.” At 56, her toned physique and bleach-blond ambition is defying kneejerk ageism, but the choreographed dancing guys in matador outfits suggested the veener of erotic edginess without actually offering the real thing. Perennial awards host LL Cool J—a rapper who hasn't charted any hits or walked with a panther in some years—by now symbolizes the antiseptic nostalgia-with-a-smile that the Grammys seems to revel in.
Vet Grammys producer Ken Ehrlich, who's helmed the show for 35 years, continued his formula of curating customized live collaborations between geysers and pop tarts. Herbie Hancock, accompanied by ?uestlove and John Mayer, rollicked through “Thinking Out Loud” by Brit singer-songwriter Ed Sheeran; Sheeran in turn accompanied ELO captain Jeff Lynne for a wide-open version of “Mr. Blue Sky”; Usher convincingly rendered Stevie Wonder's harp-driven 1976 “If It's Magic” before the maestro himself emerged from the shadows to close the tune with a harmonica coda; Hozier launched into his Eric-Burdon-esque “Take Me To Church” before jamming with Annie Lennox for a rousing take on Screamin' Jay Hawkins' 1956 voodoo chestnut “I Put a Spell on You.”
Despite its stilted pageantry (those faux mosh pits recycle the visual staging of award shows from the grunge era), the Grammys remain a bizarrely watchable phenomenon. They still get points for delivering as the most star-studded night in pop music; and by bringing so many musicians together under the same roof, the ceremony helps make annual sense of the weird spikes and valleys of the Hot 100. Also, because the awards are still beset by a convoluted and sometimes downright unfair nominations process, it can be a head-scratching blast to watch awards go, every year, to undeserving artists. Social media curmudgeons love to hate-watch the awards, and perusing the scattershot wit you see bubbling up on Twitter and Facebook feeds is sometimes much more exciting than paying attention to the show itself. Yet for all the mean-spirited ire the Grammys elicit, hardly any musician would turn down the gift of a nomination.
Jason Merritt / Getty Images
Still the Grammys too often covet mediocrity in fear of the musical sublime: every number last night seemed to be accompanied by a gospel choir. That stale trope has been wheeled out at least since Foreigner in 1984 to signal emotion, but Good Lord forbid that the Grammy broadcast actually puts a real live nominated gospel act on TV. Miranda Lambert got through a curious rendition of “Little Red Wagon;” it had only the most vague resemblance to country. There were near-funereal hymns from pop divas like Ariana Grande and Katy Perry who are both so much better doing faux-effervescent rather than faux-somber. The Grammy decision was made some years ago to marginalize awards in the most eclectic and diverse genres, including Latin, rap, R&B and dance, by either eliminating them or shuttling them off to the pre show (which aired this year on the Grammys webcast). What a shame. Fiery Best Traditional R&B Performance nominee Angie Fisher scorched the stage with a full-throated rendition of her bluesy “I.R.S.” that would have likely catapulted to her mainstream stardom had she been allowed on the main broadcast—not dissimilar to the serendipitous primetime opportunity Ricky Martin took advantage of in the late 1990s to kick off his solo career.
Generally risk-averse, the Grammy broadcast seems rigged to assure there's no possibility you'll discover much new or truly independent music (unless you've had your head under a rock). This year, nominated R&B singer Ledisi – a pyrotechnical vocalist who's been perennially nominated but could certainly benefit from some prime time coverage – was unceremoniously booted from performing her Selma soundtrack rendition of a Mahalia Jackson spiritual in favor of household name Beyonce. Go figure.
Given the tumultuous political year, the Grammys sentimentally courted and skated around identity issues. A timely videotaped anti-violence message from President Obama followed by domestic abuse activist Brooke Axtell prefaced Katy Perry's “By the Grace of God” ballad—but just hours earlier, the awards honored Eminem, who's made waves this year with an abusive punchline about socking Lana Del Rey. As black lives matter protests raged in the streets, the Grammys saw fit to nominate a spate of black-music-influenced white artists like Meghan Trainor but didn't bother to actually nominate a range of deserving actually-black nominees in major categories.
via IFTTT
Sudip Das's Blog 