Current
Filed
Dossier
Scribbles
Telegrams
Briefing
Patron

Grammy Notes
24 February 2003
4 13:45

Now, don't get me wrong, I love me some Norah Jones. I dug the album the first time I heard it, back when it was first released. Susan and I listened to it during dinner at her place one night -- olives and chips and homemade salsa and marinated tuna steak and champagne for no other reason than that we could, and then we lit candles and hung around in her house talking and I sight-read some Mozart variations on her piano, which I love, and then did Lloyd Cole's "Rattlesnakes", which seemed sort-of appropriate, 'cause Susan's the kind of girl that needs a gun on account of all the men she gets involved with whom I'd characterise as rattlesnakes, not to mention the fact that her house is in the midst of a bunch of overgrowth -- It's really a beautiful place; it's just that there's so much garden and the hedges are so high that it's like running into a little house somewhere in a forest in the middle of France. Anyway, what was my point? Oh, yeah, Norah Jones. Love her. Really. But there's so much up for grabs at the Grammies, and so many deserving people, I do think they could've spread the love a little. (I'll pass over the fact that Holly Cole is every bit as good of a singer as Norah is and she's been doing the same sort of thing for years, but has never, to my knowledge, gotten a Grammy nod, but then, she IS a Canadienne.) I'm not saying Norah shouldn't have won anything, but I don't think it should've been such a complete sweep. Anyhow, the following are my thoughts on the ceremony.

Simon and Garfunkel: Man, those guys have aged. I mean, they looked horrible! They sounded great, though, and it was wonderful to see them together again, even if only for one song. They're the real deal; they're what it's really all about. Hearing "The Sound of Silence" and thinking about all the budgetary cuts that are affecting arts education in this country and realising that these days, "the neon god they made" is called "MTV", I wept.

Dustin Hoffman: I'm afraid the man is still playing RainMan. His introduction of S&G was okay, but from there on out, he was so ill-fitted to his role I was torn between giggling and wanting him to get off the stage. He started a lengthy trend throughout the show, though, of people looking good, which was nice to see, given some of the fashion disasters which have occurred in the past.

No Doubt: Gwen Stefani has got to be just the most adorable frontwoman in all music today; I can't look at her without getting a big stupid goofy grin on my face, even if she does sometimes get so aerobic on stage that her vocals suffer. (I loved Ms. Aretha's reaction to their performance of "Underneath It All / Hella Good"; she applauded in a ladylike fashion with a look on her face that said she wasn't quite sure what to make of them, but she thought she liked it. I guess you had to see it, but it definitely gave me a giggle.) And Adrian Young, madman drummer, is so outrageous and sexy I just wanna lock myself in a hotel room with him and do every whimsical kinky thing that comes to mind for a long weekend. I was a bit disappointed he didn't hit the stage with the rest of the band to accept their award for Best Performance by a Pop Duo or Group with Vocal. That was the first point in the evening where the Academy failed to disappoint or anger me with their selection; I was terrified the award would go to N'Stink (more on their disastrous disharmony later).

Ms. Norah Jones: First off, girlfriend looked HOT. Second, she still manages to sing that song like she means every word of it, despite the number of times you know she's had to perform it in the last year, and knows enough to keep the vocal fresh by throwing in some improvisations on the melody. Third, despite the presence of (doubtless) some of her idols in the audience, she manages to retain her cool exquisitely. You gotta respect that. If I were singing in front of Aretha Franklin and Bonnie Raitt and B.B. King and Tony Bennett and Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel and Bruce Springsteen and Elvis Costello and James Taylor (to those who've compared me to him favourably, thank you -- more on him later), I would be an absolute wreck. The only evidence of nerves seemed to lie in the amount of piano-playing she didn't do; I saw her do the song on Saturday Night Live, and she seemed much more into playing interesting jazzy little riffs, which I thought was super-cool.

Justin Timberlake: The fact that you get to share the stage with someone as hot as Kylie Minogue (annoying though her songs be) does NOT mean you should demonstrate what a classless child you are and ask to grab her ass. He is SUCH trash. I have nothing more to say.

Best Pop Vocal Album: Norah for the second time, much to my surprise! I find it fascinating that an album such as this would win in the "pop" category; perhaps this is a sign that the world is tired of all the Brainless Busty Bleach-Blond Britneys and wants more substance in their pop to go along with the fizz. I certainly hope so. Still, I think I would've given this one to Pink or Avril or No Doubt. Pink's MISSUNDAZTOOD is rife with hooks and super-accessible to quite a broad variety of listeners, though it does have a few tracks which embarrass, despite Linda Perry's work (I still love that 4 Non Blondes album). I haven't heard the entirety of Avril's LET GO yet, but I'm super-thrilled that it was at least partially co-written by Lauren Christy, whose voice I love, though the lyrics on her own solo outing were a bit clunky (her best work is still "Walk This Earth Alone" off the GREAT EXPECTATIONS soundtrack), but I guess Avril is a little too much "Sullen Girl" and the work a little too immature to manage my vote for Best. Ultimately, I guess my vote would've gone to No Doubt, 'cause that album does, in fact, ROCK STEADY, in one form or another, from start to finish.

Marc Anthony: I think it's telling that he shows up as a presenter. He had a legitimate career before the "Latin Craze" of a couple years ago, and he still does now, and I think it's great that the most talented of the popsters involved in that trend is the one still standing when the dust has cleared and Ricky Martin is nowhere to be found.

Faith Hill: The woman looked hot as the sun, in my opinion, and the effect of those blinding lights on her outfit, her hair, her face, only made her look more angelic. From the opening notes of the song, though, there were problems: pitch problems, technique problems, breathing problems, hearing problems, rhythmic problems; could she not hear herself? At some point in the second verse, I thought she was probably abandoning technique in favour of soul, which would explain some of the notes' being almost Janis-Joplin-esque, and I salute her for trying to inject as much emotion as possible into what is otherwise a rather flaccid song, but I worry that if she's touring (and we know she is) and she keeps singing like that, she won't be able to do it in another few years. Hire me as your vocal coach, hon, and we'll fix it. Neither I nor any singer with whom I work closely who actually follows my advice ever lose our voices (assuming the ability to hear oneself), despite extended periods of wailing.

Paul Schaeffer: Check out that outfit; the man is a phabulous phrique. (Was it just my imagination, or was he playing keys with Springsteen later on "The Rising"?)

Vanessa Carlton: Despite the number of times I've heard it, I still love that "Thousand Miles" song, but the piano part just isn't gutsy at all, and that bothers me, 'cause she's classically trained. I do wonder, though, was she drunk or does she just want to be Gwen? Her diction was bizarre and awful.

John Mayer: I like the boy, I really do, but he seems to want to sound like Dave Matthews, which is bad. I do like the way the boy plays that nylon-stringed guitar, though, and he does manage to look cute in orange.

Oh, JT, you come out and sound as good as ever, proving that some of the oldest are still the best. Yo-Yo Ma was probably a bit under-used bowing those sustained harmonies on his 'cello, but it sounded just lovely, and "Sweet Baby James" can still make me cry, and apparently India Arie agreed, 'cause I'd swear there were tears in her eyes when she stood up with the rest of MSG to salute you.

I think I've finally figured out what all of Sean Combs's names (Puff Daddy, P Diddy, whoever the fuck he is) mean. They all have the initials P.D., and it really stands for Pretentious Dork. Take the shades off; they don't make you look cool, they just make you look like an idiot. And by the way, that's coming from someone who LIKES your music (just not all the stupid posturing). Kim Cattrall look fine, tho. Despite the fact it's really an old song, I thought the award for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance would go to Sting for the brilliant "Fragile". I guess he's gotten a few, though, and John Mayer needed to be recognised on SOME level, so it's cool.

On Best Rap Album, I was gunning for anyone but Nelly, so once again the Academy pleased me and gave the award to Eminem, who further pleased me by, rather than thanking all the soulless suits, giving props to his forebears, beginning with Run DMC (I still love to listen to RAISING HELL) and the Beastie Boys. Smart boy, mentioning the three Jewish guys from Brooklyn, knowing that without them, he'd have had an even harder time doing what he does, and I think, showing his true colours; despite his often wildly offensive sense of humour, Em's not a bad kid. (And I don't just say that 'cause I'd fuck him...'Cause I mean, what's up with that absurd bit of white spandex on the head thing?!)

I like Queen Latifah. I like Dixie. I like chicks. I like Dixie Chicks. I like THE Dixie Chicks. I still like Stevie's version of "Landslide" better, but it does make a nice Bluegrass tune, and QL is right about the Dixie Chicks bringing the "grace of bluegrass" to the pop charts; that's a really cool way to express the character of that music, which is what I grew up hearing probably the majority of the time. The music, as well as the artists who create it, do, in fact, have a sense of grace about them.

John Leguizamo is a friggin' brilliant man. It's unfortunate that he often moves too fast for people to really get what he's doing.

The NY Phil (with the exception of the strings occasionally lagging by a tiny bit, as strings are wont to do, and a tiny snafu in the upper brasses early on, I believe) mostly rocked Bernstein's "Mambo", which was really refreshing in the middle of this show.

I've not yet decided what I think of Coldplay. They have a few songs that absolutely tear at my heart, but when I hear people rave over them as Leguizamo did in his introduction, and then they go and do a performance like the one they did, where the singer sounds like a low-quality shadow of Thom Yorke, and there's nothing remotely interesting about the song musically, and I think they sound like me when I'm blunted by entirely too much alcohol, I tend to put them on the same plane with Spiritualized, highly touted, but lacking in some crucial aspect. I understand the choice of the song; it was a "Politik(al)" one, but I think they'd have been better served by another. I've still not yet decided what I think of Coldplay.

Rod Stewart and Harvey Fierstein! What a fucking hilarious combination! SOMEONE was on their toes when they put that together. And Robin Williams: I'm happy for him, and I do think he's a genius, but lately, he scares me, 'cause I'm not sure he can turn the voices off.

Avril Lavigne: Guilty Pleasure. She's so good now at eighteen, if she manages to stick around for five or ten years, she'll set things on fire just by looking at them as a grown-up. The girl has got guts and pipes, too (though her technique's a little throaty); just listen to her wail those high E's in "I'm With You," which is a great song, and which I'd have rather she performed. Oh, yeah, and her little blond guitarist? The things I could do with that. I dig Canadians. Really.

Much as I love Queen Latifah, I cannot share her enthusiasm for Nelly. I liked some of the stuff off of COUNTRY GRAMMAR, but I no longer have any use for him. "It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes"?! Not for you, ya ugly mofo. Kelly Rowland has a nice voice, and she's pretty; what she wants with him I cannot imagine. I mean, we're talking about the fool behind that idiot "Air Force Ones" song, here. And that medley they performed was so badly put together it was like a musical train wreck that just kept backing up and smashing into itself all over again.

Fred Durst is a moron. There is no such word as "agreeance". I must confess, though, that I was surprised that we were nearly two hours into the show before someone mentioned war directly.

The Hard Rock category is not exactly my dig these days, mostly because of what gets nominated in that category (I miss truly classic rock, truth be told), but I do like that Foo Fighters song, though I don't particularly dig Dave Grohl. And who the fuck was the guy who came up and said, "Rock wouldn't be nothin' without B.B. King"? It's true, and B.B.'s a legendary bluesman for good reason, but what's your point?

Commercial Breaks: Do I even need to go off on Target and the fact that the only reason why they're raking it in the way they are is that they've managed to render themselves trendy by means of their advertisements? I remember going to Target when I was a kid, and there was definitely NOTHING classy about it. I'm betting that these days, Wal-Mart and KMart are desperately wishing they'd managed to come up with such snappy commercials, especially instead of those lame-ass cheer and "teamwork meeting"-filled ads Wal-Mart was running fairly recently. At the other end of the spectrum, that Applebee's spot with the little kid going, "Mister, are you a real fireman?" puts a catch in my throat every damn time.

Getting back to the show, if you're Bruce Springsteen and you're gonna perform with great energy (and let's face it, Bruce is gonna do the job every fuckin' time), ya need someone to introduce you with equal gusto, and Robin Williams did just that. "The Rising" is, in my opinion, a great modern spiritual; I hadn't understood all the lyrics in the several times I'd heard the song 'til I went and looked them up, checking out some of the lyrics from the rest of the album on the way. I couldn't tell if he was singing it with anger last night, but it was certainly deeply emotional, so I can forgive his backing vocalists' being out of tune on the chorus. I'm okay with "Don't Know Why" getting both Record and Song of the Year, 'cause I really do love the song, but I think The Boss should've taken home the Album of the Year trophy, in addition to his Best Male Rock Vocal one.

Erykah Badu: If you know your reading skilz aren't all that and you know you're going to be expected to read a tribute to a man whose work was indeed very important, perhaps you oughta show up to rehearsal. And no, you didn't look good.

Sidenote: What is this "Holla" shit?! "Holla" is what my Mama used to do out the door when I was playing somewhere in the neighbourhood and she wasn't quite sure where, but she wanted me to come home for supper. I would not dine with most of the people who've taken up this expression to mean whatever it is they mean for it to mean unless they learned some better grammar first.

Ashanti: What can I say? This was the worst performance of the night. Ashameful. It was so off-key it hurt my ears and so saccharine it hurt my teeth. Someone please take away her recording contract and tell the bitch never to pull that shit again or they'll take her out and shoot her like the injured beast she sounded like. By the way, was there more than one line of text in that song? Annie and Dave managed to make the eight or so lines of text in "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" sound less dull and repetitive.

Ed Bradley lookin' spiffy. I think it's sad, though, that if not for Maurice's death, the tribute to the BeeGees would probably not have happened. And yes, everybody in the place ought to stand up for Barry and Robin; the music the BeeGees produced in the seventies and eighties, and even their hit "One" from the mid-/late-nineties was exquisite, influential, and altogether unique and incomparable, as evidenced by EndStink's positively shameful attempt at an a cappella medley of some of their tunes. The tuning problems they were having were absolutely flesh-crawling, and I have to say, mostly coming from the bass part. (Who is that? Lance? I don't know, and I don't care, but that was equally bad as when the Backstreet Boys attempted a version of "How Deep Is Your Love" some years ago.) Justin is pretty much the only standout of the group, and that's not saying much, kids.

Whatever he may say that's offensive, I have to confess I dig Eminem. I was and am consistently moved by "Lose Yourself", perhaps because I share some of its sentiments about creating and performing, and perhaps because in it, he seems to cast aside all snide remarks and masks of humour and anger and posturing and just speak from his heart. That boy can certainly spit rhymes with the best of them. And it was nice that he gave respect to Jam Master J at the end of his performance, too. The Roots' work backing him on that track was also very cool and skillful throughout, particularly with the interpolation of a certain other classic tune under the last chorus; that was smokin'.

Aretha Franklin and Bonnie Raitt standing together on the same stage to honour Etta James. The only way that could've become more cool would have been if Etta had been there and if the three of them had gotten together to jam on T-Bone Walker's "Stormy Monday", which Etta sometimes performs live, I believe. In any case, how cool must Norah Jones have felt to receive Record of the Year from those two?

I love the idea of Sheryl Crow and Kid Rock as a duo, and the song they've got on the radio makes me very happy, but Sheryl's microphone level was too low, and Rock was just wailing, so the harmonies were a bit off, and this was not at all the performance it could have been. Did they rehearse?

I like Alicia Keys, but she has no fucking clue, I swear. Cyndi Lauper is a true diva. The woman has been around for decades and is STILL producing vibrant relevant music (Go get her SHINE EP and listen to it, or if you can find it, a copy of her SISTERS OF AVALON disc. She's yet another case where the suits at a corporation didn't know what to do with someone they saw only as an inanimate product, so they left it on the shelf, where it languished, despite its phenomenal quality.), and she's got an incredible and shatteringly expressive instrument. Alicia has a nice voice, but by comparison, she's a one-trick pony, a puppy too busy doing whatever pleases her master to take account of her own potential and to respect her forebears, and I'll be surprised if she lasts past a second album.

Best New Artist: Yes, we love Norah, but I think I would've given this one to someone who actually writes his/her own songs, probably John Mayer. (Avril, I'm sorry you went home empty-handed, but honey, as much as your schtick may be honest, it's a little bit too close to pre-fab anti-pop for this year. Give it time; you're only eighteen. Follow your own path to wherever YOU think it's going, and I'm pretty sure you'll be back for more someday.)

I'm sorry and surprised at the number of talented individuals who've passed on this year; it just didn't occur to me the way their numbers were mounting. It was super-cool to see Springsteen and Costello in a tribute to Joe Strummer. It is, as one writer pointed out in an article last week, too bad the Academy didn't see fit to honour the Clash at the time when their music was breaking serious ground. It is, further, a shame that organisations (Empty Vee, for example) choose to recognise the watered-down whiny-ass pseudo-punk acts who attempt to carry that torch today but haven't even the strength, collectively, to lift it.

'Twas good, too, to see Elvis Costello (man doesn't seem to have aged at all), Peter Gabriel (by contrast, looks like a wise old wizard now), and Michelle Branch honor producer Arif Mardin, who's been around forever and is apparently among the best at what he does.

By the time Norah got Album of the Year for COME AWAY WITH ME, she had to have just been getting embarrassed. The thank yous on this one were just goofy. It was obviously time for the show (like this entry) to be over.

L8r,

r

Last Dispatch - Next Dispatch