Without paparazzi, without Joan Rivers, without screaming idolators, the red carpet seems to be just another rug. Yet it is a place where the movers and shakers of music come to get recognition for their achievements.

Spending an evening around the Staples Center the day before the actual show, I saw what one sees every day in Downtown Los Angeles: a desolate concrete jungle. However, inside the auditorium was another world, one of lights, performers, technicians, elaborate sets and, of course, red carpets galore.

When I entered Staples Center, all I could hear was the mindless thumping of a bass drum during a sound check. Upon closer inspection, multiple-nominee India Arie was gracing the stage soulfully, gently caressing her band members with seductive smiles and playful body language. She was having a good time, dressed in her casual attire and characteristic bandanna-tied hair. Around her band were technicians talking endlessly about details and requesting more sound checks.

The lights encompassed everything. Stage lights flickered on the back seats of the auditorium. A thin layer of smoke gave the lights shape and a sense of tangibility. High above the seats and the stage hung more lights on steel wires. Technicians on a floating scaffold island ran around 100 feet in the air with safety harnesses around their bodies, fixing the various lights, lasers and cords that demanded attention.

Below the lights, various industry insiders mingled. Robert Knight, the rock star photographer, sat watching the show with his camera resting by his feet. Considering he has worked with people like Jimi Hendrix, Elton John, Eric Clapton and Slash, he wasn't exactly in paparazzi mode.

"I'm taking pictures back stage, not out here," Knight said, noting twe were about 50 feet from the actual stage.

While both the Lakers and the Clippers are hauling their butts around the country, their home court has become a seating area of fold-up chairs for nominees, presenters, distinguished guests and performers. On the seats are large white cards with the name of the artist that will sit there. Within a few feet of each other are the seats of Melissa Etheridge, Outkast, Coldplay, Randy Travis and Linkin Park.

"I think that's the funniest part of it," Knight said. "They're not here, but they're here already."

I wonder what the artists think of such a mixed seating arrangement. It must be the least of their worries after considering the fact that award shows are as much media frenzies as they are award shows.

Though the artists can enter from more discreet places, they also have the choice of arriving to the show on the red carpet. There they will face fans, the scathing comments of Joan Rivers, paparazzi – "Hey! Look at me and my camera" – CBS correspondents and an online webcast of the full event.

After winning an award they disappear into the Fox Skybox restaurant, which has been converted into a media center with each table turned into a computer console. Winning artists can touch up their make-up before interviews with Entertainment Tonight and Access Hollywood, the two leading entertainment shows. Jim McHugh takes their picture with award in hand, which will be instantly published on grammy.com.

With the help of an escort, the talent then goes through another gauntlet of proceedings, including separate rooms of print journalists, wire service photographers, television correspondents and one-on-one interview booths with MTV and VH1 among others. For the lucky ones, being back on stage means bypassing the nonsense.

Even my feet are beginning to ache after this tour of the press torture chamber. But the feeling of the Grammys being this immense party certainly alleviates the pressure.

Forget the dinky McDonald's funhouse! Staples Center is the best playground ever, with people running around with heavy equipment and walky-talkies, making last night's event run soothly for you, the consumer.

Just remember that the glamour requires the lights and the media machinery as well.