Let's say you're an alien from some faraway, distant planet. You're a music fan, and you want a rundown of what Earth has to offer. A friendly American sits you down in front of the television for the Grammy Awards, and you figure these nominees must be the most talented musicians and singers this strange land has to offer.
Well, dear alien, according to the definition of the "Grammy Award," you would be right. The supposed intention of the granddaddy of music awards shows is to put forth the Recording Academy's choices for the best and brightest of the previous year. But welcome to America, the land where appearance, politics, and pretty much everything aside from pure talent drives the judges who hand out these coveted trophies.
Alien friend, Paul Simon is a legend. But his latest album, You're the One - nominated for Album of the Year - doesn't nearly do justice to his talent. Rewarding this gifted, spectacular, tried-and-true artist for his latest mediocre-at-best offering is almost an insult. It's only a reverent wave goodbye to an artist on his way out. The same might be said of the night's Album of the Year winner, Steely Dan. Yes, these artists deserve accolades, but not in the form of a "Year's Best" trophy.
Maybe Radiohead's Kid A is from your planet. But its nomination was a simple "better late than never" nod (along with Beck's, for Midnight Vultures) that the Recording Academy penciled into its Things That Are Hip list after Radiohead's OK Computer and Beck's Odelay became the industry's alternative darlings.
You may find Faith Hill attractive, and she has a wonderful voice, but see that other blonde over there with the red lipstick and the abundant chest? That's Dolly Parton, alien. She's country music's original poster girl, and even you can tell by that look on her face that she wants to know why this skinny girl's crossover into pop music suddenly could be counted as the Best Country Album of the Year.
So, alien, don't look to the Grammy Awards to represent our country in terms of music's best. Instead, the Awards treat you to an explosion of fame and fashion that represents popular culture in its shining, multicolored light.
As a production, though, there was much for you to enjoy: This year's Grammys were some of the best eye candy an awards show has offered in a while. Performances from Destiny's Child to N*SYNC to Moby to U2 to Hill truly represented the year 2000 in music, and celebrated it.
The staging and visual interpretations for each performance were spectacular. Macy Gray, towering above a band covered in shimmery gray and hot pink wigs, rasped last spring's ultimate break-up anthem, "I Try." Controversial rapper Eminem and piano legend Elton John collaborated in a well-done but relatively tame performance of "Stan" in the evening's most talked about event.
But it was the combination of Moby, Best New Artist nominee Jill Scott, and Boston performance troupe Blue Man Group that defined modern music and brought the audience to its feet. Silver streamers sparkled over the crowd and Scott's pipes pierced the air, complimenting Moby's calm, fluid vocals to complete the sensory overload. Performances like this are perhaps a better representation of American music. Listen to what you see, and know that there exists much more beyond the walls of the Staples Center during the annual Grammy Awards show. Then make your own personal decisions and your own individual "Best Of" list. Don't count on this yearly media-fest to do it for you.
