Special report: 2001 Grammy Awards
Steely Dan?
OK, assuming the Grammy couldn’t possibly go to Eminem for fear of what message such an endorsement might send to the kids (and we always always think of the kids), three other, more worthy contenders remained for Best Album of the Year.
Steely Dan? Why not give that loveable little guy Paul Simon another feather for his cap? Why not be the last to wake up to how good Radiohead is? Why not recognize Beck for being so damn funky?
Steely Dan? OK, I’ll stop. Suffice to say this one award was as good an indication as any how staid, business-oriented and out of touch the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences remains, despite moves in recent years toward a moderate level of hipness. While the suits were worrying about how an award for Eminem might play in Peoria, it continued to ignore vital music being made right under their noses.
But I digress. For this, my friends, is about the show itself. The premiere music-on-television event, three hours of ego stroking and polite applause occasionally leavened by a quick quip from host Jon Stewart, a genuinely heartfelt line from an award winner, or an inspired musical performance.
Things got off to a slow start. When is Madonna going to realize that she isn’t 20 anymore? Leave the gyrations to Christina, Ms. Ritchie, and stick to genre hopping, dig? Better to let a real band with real instruments take a crack at it. A high energy performance from the likes of U2 or Foo Fighters could have given the show a kickstart from the word go.
Instead it was left to Stewart, a late addition to the telecast, to fire up the crowd. He did so throughout the evening with jokes and asides that did much to let a little air out of a stuffy room. He diffused the Eminem situation with a quick “he’s really gay,” and even brought Em’s duet partner, Elton John, into the mix, by warning the kids that “Saturday night is not all right for fighting.”
The theme of the evening seemed to be over compensation. Did you happen to notice the whiz-bang productions that accompanied the most banal, trivial songs? Christina Aguilera, N’Sync and Destiny’s Child particularly seemed to be bit players in their own performances. Besides, who was watching the Aeros dance company cavort atop that lemon-shaped jungle gym while the babes in Destiny’s Child gyrated in spangled bikinis?
That bombast carried over to the music. I for one am tired of being shouted at when I flip on the radio. So, it was nice to hear Simon actually sing, conversationally, during his performance of “You’re the One.” His is not one of the best 50 albums of the year, let alone one of the top five, but at least he played an instrument, sang a song he wrote, and understood the emotions behind what he was singing.
A few performances stood out for their verve and grace. U2 turned in a nice, no frills rendition of “Beautiful Day,” while Moby and Jill Scott joined with the Blue Man Group for a kicking version of “Natural Blues.” Sheryl Crow and Shelby Lynne provided the most real moment of the show, giving a nice acoustic performance of “The Difficult Kind” before stammering through the hokey shtick penned for them by the lame Grammy writers.
Lynne was much better when accepting her Best New Artist Grammy: “Thirteen years and six albums to get here,” she said in a not-so-veiled reference to her long overdue recognition. Even she uttered a false note, however, looking a bit silly sanctimoniously saying “I stand here tonight and represent nothing but music” while falling out of a silver top that would make Jennifer Lopez (oops, where are my marketing manners? I mean J-Lo) green with envy.
Come to think of it, the acceptance speeches were really the best part of the evening. Bono was actually funny when U2 accepted Best Rock Performance by a Duo or Group. “I want to thank God and my mother,” he said. “But I just have this feeling, this picture in my head of God looking down on people like us on occasions like this and going, 'Uh-oh. Don't thank me for that song. There's no hook, the chorus is weak and they'll never play it on the radio.' ”
Even the Edge was funny. He cited the new century as a good one for himself and the band, and mankind, while he was at it. He even heralded the invention of the 3-blade razor. After Stewart joked that the Edge, who always seemed mute to him, would not shut up backstage, the guitarist took the opportunity when accepting another award to play off the joke, launching into another abbreviated tirade.
Steely Dan’s Donald Fagen, accepting that duo’s statue for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocal, was succinct: “We’ve been around a long time. It’s nice to get one of these.”
CBS’s promotion of the Eminem-Elton John duet came so early and often that you just knew it would be the last thing. Guess what? Too bad it wasn’t really worth the wait (go to Napster now and download a pristine copy if you like. It’s everywhere). It was a solid, straight-ahead performance, with John adequately filling in live for the song’s Dido sample. The only spontaneity even seemed scripted, as John and Eminem embraced at the song’s end.
The show did prove to anyone still silly enough to see Eminem as much of a threat just where the young rapper’s head is at. When accepting his much-deserved Best Rap Album award, he made a play at poignancy: “I want to thank everybody who could look past the controversy and whatever and see the album for what it was and also for what it isn’t.” He then showed his true colors, plugging the forthcoming album from his group D-12. It really is all about the Benjamins, isn’t it?
So what could have been better? Nearly everything. Show some part of those early award presentations, so people can see Asleep at the Wheel or Johnny Cash or Dave Alvin, so they can learn about those great Miles Davis/ John Coltrane and Louis Armstrong box sets.
And even though it was clear the appearance of NARAS President Michael Greene was intended as a pre-apology for Eminem’s performance, limit the guy to one minute tops. How much justification does one song need?
The bottom line, however, is that the show won’t get better until the nominations get better, and the nominations won’t get better until real music fans, even if they’re just industry people who actually like the product they’re peddling, get involved in the process. Wouldn’t that be something?
A few random observations:
--Where was Britney Spears?
--What does it say about me that I laughed when Ray Romano and Kevin James used one of those pneumatic guns to shoot T-shirts into the crowd?
--Did Toni Braxton get permission from J-Lo to be this year’s most-underdressed?
--Napster made one appearance. John Stewart: “It's very exciting to be here tonight with all these musicians that I love so much and that I have downloaded for free for so long.”
--Eryka Badu? BALD!
--Brian Wilson and Mike Love, in the house to be recognized for the Beach Boy’s “lifetime achievement,” sat on opposite sides of the aisle. Love acted like a dork, Wilson just looked uncomfortable. Some things never change.
--After a yokel came onstage to make an unscripted plug for a radio station, Stewart offered a quick retort: “That kind of thing makes you long for the days of Soy Bomb,” he said, making reference to the shirtless protester who interrupted Bob Dylan’s Grammy performance a few years back.
--NARAS added a Grammy for Native American music this year, a nice recognition of a long tradition. Robbie Robertson was a nice touch as a presenter, but what was up with Val Kilmer. Batman (or does he prefer “the Saint”?) looked pretty vacant.
Thanks. Tune in next month for a similar, albeit shorter, write-up after the Oscars.
posted by John Kenyon at 12:26 AM
