Straight up, I’m doing this to generate traffic for the site. Consider this the equivalent of the third act in Boogie Nights (you know, the really dark, depressing part?) where he has to use his “talent” for evil instead of good, and jerk off in front of homophobes in a truck for like $10 and shit. This is that. I’ll try not to shoot it in your eye. Ready?
Christina Aguilera & some other womenfolk: Tribute to Aretha Franklin
They don’t make ‘em like that anymore. As evidenced by the chicks doing the tribute. Don’t get me wrong. They’re all talented. You can tell by that frog-taking-a-shit ribbit-yell they do! I’m just sayin’…At least Aguilera didn’t fuck up the words, Super Bowl Star Spangled Banner style. Always amusing to see how unnecessarily long they draw out that last syllable too…Oooh-oooh-waaahh-ooooooooohhhhhhh!!!
Some bullshit “Best Duo/Group” award
The first time I’ve ever seen Glee lose anything. Ha!
The space-tranny emerges from a glowing egg-cocoon (what else?) and continues her total and complete usurping of Madonna’s body, soul, music and career with this Effed-up retread of Express Yourself. Christians are okay with this performance, knowing all of the participants will burn in hell. I kinda have to respect Gaga on a “What the fuck?!” level, I guess. You win this round, Madonna 2.0. Too bad about the music, though…
Also known as: “Smoke break!”
Ugly British dudes show North Americans what’s up with a flashy set, double-neck guitars, crappy haircuts and the worst beaver teeth I’ve ever seen. Blimey!
Wow. Music might have a future after all. That was straight-up rad. And the B&W complimented Bruno’s old school, Ritchie Valens-ass stylings well! Nice work, sophomores!
Bieber, Mini-Will Smith & Usher
They tried to make this shit slightly more hetero with drum-ninjas. No such luck.
Best Rock Album
Muse (from a few paragraphs ago) beats Pearl Jam and a who’s who of classic rockers, including Tom Petty, Jeff Beck and Neil Young. Muse is fine and all, and most of those guys aren’t making the music they used to. Nevertheless, it just sounds wrong. Instead of a Grammy, someone should award them a year with a dentist and a comb…
Best Pop Vocal Album
The Madonna sequel (Gaga) wins one of those “Let’s grab a word from each column and make up a new category!” awards. Next up: ‘Best Solo/Group (?) Contemporary Crunk Rape-Rap Record/Album!’
I don’t know who these young dudes are, but after this performance, I plan to find out. Judging by his craggy voice and cobweb-wig-lookin’ fro, Dylan’s reached the final level of Bluesman-dom. Or he woke up in a crawlspace just before the performance and has something stuck in his throat. More importantly: Fuck yeah, harmonica!
Best Country Album
Durt Dogg McGee wins thanks to the smash hit (in the middle and southern – or racist - states), Well, Shee-oot, Cousin-Father! M’fuckin’ Dog’s Dead! Pass The Hooch! America and Trucks and Fuckin’ Yee-haw!
The greatest thing I’ve ever seen! (Well, since THIS anyway…) Much like her role in Iron Man, Gwyneth plays a solid second banana here, and Cee-Lo and his batshit crazy Peacock Man suit rule, but they both have their thunder stolen by a bunch of rad Muppets. Seriously, everything is better with Muppets.
I highly suggest you watch this, but only if the mute button on your remote works.
Norah Jones, John Mayer & Keith Urban: Tribute to Dolly Parton
Yeah, Jolene! Rad song. That’s a whole lot of douchery going on to either side of Norah, though.
Song of the Year
Fuck You. Take that every way you can, Grammys. Fuck You – the song (should’ve won instead of Lady Anteaterballs.) Fuck you – the statement (pretty self-explanatory.) Fuck you – the threat (if you ever go to prison, Grammys, I’ve got a few cartons of cigarettes that ensure you won’t have a very pleasant stay…)
Rihanna’s hot, Dre’s back and NOBODY can rip a mic to shreds as intensely as Marshall, even when I don’t particularly love one of the songs performed, and the other one is basically a ballad about a man. Still, as usual, this was a free seminar on how to MC. Rappers take note…Well, if you can catch enough of the performance through the bleeping by the trigger-happy Grammy censors.
Best New Artist
Esperanza Spalding, eh? Ummm…who?! It should’ve probably been Drake, but even Bieber would’ve been better. At least I’ve heard of the little blank-shooter…
Mick Jagger: Tribute to Solomon Burke
The Rolling Stone Fossil puts to shame performers that were born thousands of years after him. He still moves like a chicken on PCP on a pogo stick on fast-forward. Lots of finger-pointing. I was entertained by the performance, but Miss Teen USSR proclaimed out loud that he was wearing “Loser Pants.” Choose a side, fool!
Best Rap Album
Since I’m just one Blondissima shy of being the world’s biggest Stan, I should probably address the musical juggernaut that was nominated in 10 Grammy categories, and won 2 (including this one): Eminem’s Recovery.
Selling a bazillion records in 2010 sounds like a pipe dream, so for someone without tits or a trapeze, a glowing egg-cocoon or a wave of Kanye-sympathy to do so is impressive. Leave it to the best rapper alive. On a sales level, Em’s LP was as close to a Recovery as the music industry’s going to get these days.
On a critical level, it was revered. Trumpeted as a return-to-form, a maturing, an evolution, a personal triumph over his own demons. Yeah. Triumph and Eminem together, no typo. Em being Em, it’s still pretty far from a feel-good record, but the best of the best never smile while they’re winning, right? (see also: Batman; Sean Penn; T-800; Nuv) And this is definitely a win, creatively, critically and commercially.
And I don’t like it.
I’m happy for Em as a person that he conquered his demons. I’m even glad he told us the tale through song. And his lyricism (both writing and delivery) is mind-obliterating, as always. So what the fuck is my problem?! Well, let me break it down like this: I like chicks; I like singing; I like rap; I like triumph; I don’t like that shit mixed up all at once. It’s been a rare occurrence that a rap song with a triumphant chick-sung chorus, post…let’s say Juicy, has landed in my good books. Most just came off as contrived and obvious grabs for top 40-ness and crossover appeal. (I’m generalizing of course. Jay-Z’s pulled off balancing all of those elements on one track numerous times. But generally, I’m like “Naw!”)
And it’s not like I don’t want the people I admire to succeed as people. But as far as the subject matter of their songs? Well, it sucks, but, in Em’s case I just felt the songs more when he was miserable. Maybe I’m nihilistic or maybe I’ve “changed, man!” Whatever the reason, the music spoke to me more when it was weighing Marshall down than now, when it’s lifting him up.
Basically: I’m an asshole.
Hey kids: Sex! One mo’ ‘gain: Rihanna’s hot! Remember my advice for the Katy Perry segment? One mo’ one mo’ ‘gain! Drake was totally pervin’ out through his part of the performance, Haddow-style. F***in’ creeps, all of ‘em!
Record of the Year
I don’t think I’ll ever get how the timing of Grammies works. How’s a Jay-Z song off his 2009 album nominated? Anyway, Lady Anushollum again. Because ‘Record of the Year’ is vastly different from ‘Song of the Year,’ so they needed to be recognized in both categories. I hope they also win ‘Words Overtop of Music In A 3-5 Minute Burst of the Year!’
If anybody exists that dislikes these guys, point them at a video of this performance. Presto! That person shall exist no more!
Wow. A happy ending! Arcade Fire wins with The Suburbs! Rad! It’s a good album, and, of the nominees, deserving of the win. Honestly, I’m surprised there wasn’t a secret sixth nominee that somehow gave the award to Lady Antebellum under a pseudonym or some shit. I can see this trio rocking the mustache-nose-glasses disguises and reveling in their triumph of human mediocrity. One of the dudes actually looks like if you pickled the other one. Know this, Antebellum: there is at least one dude that does NOT ‘Need You Now’ or ever!
Alright. Now gimme my $10. I feel dirty, and I need to buy some soap for my soul.