Gramps and some other chick snicker in a self-satisfied manner, having tricked people into liking their song

“The whole purpose of this year’s Grammys is to be more exciting than last year’s,” said Blender Magazine’s Joe Levy. “Last year, of course, album of the year went to a Herbie Hancock album — a jazz album of covers of Joni Mitchell songs. I think the Grammys would like to avoid that this year, and they’ve done that by making the nominees hipper than they have been for many years recently.”

Hip nominees be damned.  The 80s, 90s and ougths are a barren musical wasteland according to The Recording Academy, who know of no alleged “new acts,” and whose Adult Contemporary myopia appears destined to continue offending lovers of music now and forever. Oh, there were the obligatory nods to newer artists last night, like Radiohead, Coldplay, Alicia Keys, Metallica, John Mayer, John Legend and Mary J. Blige. But these acts aren’t being honored for doing anything interesting with music. They simply represent the safe slate that will continue to “win” boring Grammys once the old dogs finally shuffle off and aren’t around to lug golden gramophones back to their home studios, where they will sit as staid muses, coaxing a renewed and steady stream of tepid radio-ready shit for consumers who no longer buy radios. (Sting and U2 were not honored this year, apparently because they didn’t release records. Make no mistake, though, the nameplates were etched and ready.) The whole Grammy Awards charade operates in the same kind of vacuum that had George Bush declaring “Brownie, you’re doing a heckuva job” to a man who was in fact doing a very, very bad job. It’s self-referential, awards-for-the-sake-of-awards nonsense, and needs to be stopped.