This Outkast/Grammy thing has been blown far, far out of proportion. Perhaps the post 9/11 21st century is the era of ethnic oversensitivity (a statement which I'll make no attempt to prove or support, I just wrote it off the top of my head. It's something to think about, but probably not too much).

Recent articles in NOW (Toronto) and this one from CNN reporting on CBS' apology for the "incident", frankly, baffled me. NOW, Toronto's wannabe social conscience, essentially destroys the reasoning behind Outkast's supposed wrongdoing while (somehow) still claiming that an apology from the band is in order.

CNN's usual disgustingly splashy sensationalist reporting is in fine form (via Reuters) in their article, where NAAC board member Sean Freitas claims the performance was the most disgusting racial stereotype of Native peoples he's ever seen on TV. Without consulting specific counterevidence, I'm quite sure that minorities were represented in FAR worse fasion in movies and TV fifty or sixty years ago than in Outkast's performance. But quotes like Freitas' = ratings and readers and controversy, therefore his extreme hyperbole is apparently acceptable

The recent attention given to Outkast has placed them on a lot of new maps, and therefore a lot of people have no contextual basis for evaluating their performance because of their very recent exposure to the band. If they had seen a previous Outkast performace (or even the Brit awards performance a few days later) then they'd notice that Outkast performances frequently consist of flashy costumes and sexualized dancing. It so happens that this time they did it while dressed up as Native people. That is completely different than racially exploiting a particular ethnic group or culture in the name of an awards show performance (or worse, to sell records).

Oh sure, it's easy for me to say that I wasn't offended, because I'm not a Native Canadian. However, I am Jewish, and Freitas also likened the performance to "white people dancing sexually in black face or yarmulkes". I am going to say this as succinctly as possible, to avoid any possible misinterpretation ...

Andre, PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE, I want to see a Outkast performance with people dancing sexually while wearing yarmulkes.

I'm serious. The CJC and the ADL would freak, but screw them, they'd be guilty of the same miscontextualization that the NAAC is. If you want to see actual Anti-Semitic depictions of Jews, this ADL page is a good place to start. Outkast incorporating Jewish clothing into their stage show would be a blast, and it wouldn't offend me at all. It's COMPLETELY DIFFERENT from having a man dress as a rabbi and proclaim Michael Jackson as his personal Messiah, as was the case at the 1996 Brits. Anyone who can't see the difference would have to be incredibly shortsighted.

"... because reviewing a cost-benefit analysis for every military base in the country is as mind-numbing as a Radiohead concert"

-- Josh Lyman (played by Bradley Whitford), last night on "The West Wing". See, even the White House understands.

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Pilate's "Melt Into the Walls" achieves the dubious distinction of shamelessly ripping off both Mogwai's "2 Rights, 1 Wrong" and (of course) every Coldplay song ever. Way to make Canadian musicians appear bereft of creativity, boys. All hail the Nickelback of dadrock.

Brit Awards broadcast in Canada on Much!

:00 Another year goes by, and it's another year that I recede from my Brit-centric music focus (which is no longer Brit-centric at all), so I'm even more out of the loop with regard to who everybody is on this show. So keep that in mind if I make any dumbass comments. But from the opening montage, it won't appear to a problem with this show because most of the people appearing aren't even British.

:02 It seems they've overhauled the arena setup yet again (it's at Earl's Court). It's a Keplerian arrangement of concentric semicircular (2D, so not precisely Keplerian, but this is a good excuse to make up such a word) shells. First there's the stage, then a huge pit for the fans, then a catwalk with the podium in the centre (like last year) and finally the peanut gallery of dimly lit tables for the stars. The Brits awards own the semi-classy party vibe (the MMVA's own the tailgate party vibe).

:05 BEP open with a rockingly decent "Shut Up", it's the best version I've yet heard. Host Cat Dooley rides in on a giant champagne bottle to Primal Scream's "Rocks", a song whose shamelessly retro chops serve as a fine bit of foreshadowing for the evening.

:06 International Male Solo Artist. I love how they mix the songs together in the nominations (like last year), it's a small but slick touch I love. And here we go with some CanCon right off the bat with Shania. Sure, she may live in England now with her English husband, but she's come ALL THE WAY FROM CANADA TO REPRESENT OUR FINE COUNTRY. Uh, yeah. JTim wins, just like at every other awards show.

:08 As usual, I can't keep up with the Brits, for we're on to Best British Group (so soon?). And as was publicized all week (the show was four days ago), it's the Darkness.

:14 Busted are ... the new Ash? ... Silverchair's younger siblings? One smashing version of "Teenage Kicks" later, and I'm wondering what John Peel thinks about this.

:18 Somebody impersonates Mel B better than she can, babbling about breasts and fags in a leopard skin dress. It's nice to know that the Brits haven't forgotten about the Spice Girls. Hell, I miss them too. Anyhow, Busted win for best Pop Act. :26 Beyonce and Outkast (in the apparent tradition of wacky mismatched performers at the Brits) perform "together". Yes, who could forget Tom Jones and Robbie, Kylie and Justin? Well, I forgot them until about five seconds ago. But you know what I won't forget too soon? Andre 3000 outdoing himself yet again by dressing as part of a skeleton jumpsuit crew, with a bunch of backing singers and dancers who move as wildly as he does. And he kicks it off by proclaiming "are you ready to have a good time -- I can feel it in my bones!" -- oh ha ha. The words "HEY YA" flash in gaudy yellow letters behind him. This is brutally fun. And then they segue right into "Crazy in Love". Sure, play the best singles of 2003 back-to-back and show up everyone else at the Brits, why not? However, Andre has disappeared. I guess Jay-Z freaked out and didn't want Andre or anyone else with a Y chromosome too close to his girl.

:34 Best Rock Act ... the Primals are nominated? They haven't had an album for two years. Feeder? I thought nobody admitted to liking them. Slim pickings here. Obviously, The Darkness win.

:36 Brit Album nominee number 2 is The Coral, whose record was produced by Ian Broudie? Damn, that guy seems to produce a major Brit award nominee every year.

:41 It's a crazy diverse bunch for Best British Male, from Pop Idol Will Young to anti-pop idol Dizzee Rascal. And the winner is Daniel Bedingfield, who isn't even there! He gives an acceptance speech over the phone, which I can.t recall seeing before on the Brits. Nobody's interested, most likely because if he's not there, what's the point?

:44 We hit a pre-taped fake news report claiming 50 Cent was detained on the way to the Brits, complete with interrogation and jailbreak skit. Ever heard of just shut up and perform? Ooh, he's such a nasty boy, I so want to buy his record now. Just like the brits like the Strokes because they look like the way Brits want their New Yorkers to look, apparently somebody thinks that Brits need their American rap stars to look and act like thugs as well. There may be something to this. Eminem's UK tour was delayed for months in 2000 due to various legal issues (if I remember correctly) and he probably gained more pub through the controversy and endless anticipation than he would have if he'd just played as per the original schedule.

Any Brit performer who needs to set up his performance with a pre-taped video montage instantly recalls the 1996 MJ ego-trip. Sad, but true (at least for me, but for the post-Britpop teens it likely makes no difference). A rather ordinary "In Da Club" follows all this, yes there's homies, there's hoochies, blah blah blah.

:50 Best British Urban Act. NERD, in true American awards show stylee, stop everything to pimp the upcoming release of their record. Lemar wins the award, and apparently he was a Pop Idol runner up? And he has urban cred, wow. He accepts the award with his posse. I've never seen Ruben or Gary Beals with a posse.

:53 Best British single, damn, all these huge awards and we're still not even an hour into the show. Another nice thing about the Brits -- fans vote for nearly every award, and they show which groups of fans vote with each nomination (i.e. Radio 1 listeners, Kerrang UK readers, etc). It's yet another nice subtle touch. What the ... Gareth Gates did "Spirit in the Sky"? The British are the kings of making covers into megahits on multiple occasions. But the winner is Dido for "White Flag", and SHE's not there either? Huh? What is this, the MMVA's?

:56 Speak of the devil, it's a cover version of the "Love Cats" . And it's way better than the Cure's version, because it.s jazz done properly (by proper jazz artists).

1:04. Muse make an incredible amount of noise for only three people, which is a sure fire way to get me to take notice of a band. Amazing, do these guys actually keep up this pace throughout the whole of all their gigs? Wow.

1:08 Best International Female. They drag LLCoolJ out of the attic to present Beyonce with the inevitable. And what's with all the long speeches tonight (by Brit standards)?

You know, with all the awards and accolades Beyonce.s been getting, you might be fooled into believing that she's a singular talent, rather than a hot piece of ass who's been marketed to Mars and back, has an equally famous boyfriend, and owes all of her sound to the hottest bunch of pop music producers in years. Similar to the early 60's, with producers like Joe Meek and Phil Spector sculpting unique sounds and pushing boundaries on a weekly basis (and becoming more famous than anybody they worked with in the process), the likes of The Neptunes and Timbaland are the wizards behind the curtain, and I think history will come to recognize that (although *right now*, clearly Beyonce is more famous than any producer).

1:10 There's no time to breathe, because it's time for Best International Group. Speaking of dragging performers out of the attic, it's Lionel Ritchie, who's suddenly half as famous as his daughter, whose music career can't be too far removed from our radios. White Stripes do the Japanese overdub treatment and present themselves with the award for Best Band in All the Land.

1:14 OK, now it's actual collaboration time, with Alicia Keys and Gwen Stefani (another!) cover of Prince.s "Kiss". Later, Missy hijacks the performance, thankfully not wearing the same dress as the other two, and we segue into a verse of "Pass That Dutch".

1:20 Breakthrough Artist -- are The Darkness nominated in every category tonight? But the winner for the second time tonight is Busted. With their huge sales, why do they get no luv on this side of the pond while The Darkness get a boatload? Oh yeah, The Darkness look poncey and have long hair, which is exactly how Americans like their British rock stars to look.

Like with Blur and Oasis winning big at the Brits in the 90's after seemingly coming out of nowhere, it's no shock that The Darkness are all over this show because the Brit Awards know how to strike when the iron is hot. If this were the Oscars, for instance, The Darkness would never be winning all these awards because Hollywood makes sure that you "pay your dues" before winning the big awards. Thus, you get a lot of cases with actors winning because it's "their turn", not because they were the best in that particular year. The Darkness were the biggest story in British music this past year, and thus the show is centred around them, regardless of how long they've been plying their trade.

1:23. Ronan Keating!! Where's he been hiding? Dido wins for Best British Female. And she's still not there.

1:24 The awesome comes next, as it.s the Contribution to Music Award for yes yes yes!! Duran Duran!! It's strange how quickly one can go from a quaint embarrassment to legends, from retro relics to the people who "defined" the 80's. Pop is cool these days, what else can you say? It also involves would involve striking the "Thank You" and Electric Barbarella album from the annals of history ... but damned if they don't show a clip of the "Barbarella" video as soon as I write that! Duran Duran are bulletproof, it's official. The award is presented to them by JTim of all people. I can't picture him sitting on his porch as a kid with his mom and singing Duran Duran songs on the porch along with all the Johnny Cash ones. They pass the mic, and Nick Rhodes classily thanks Warren Cuccarello (sp?), the non-original member who toiled with them throughout the 90's. That's cool, because bands that reform with their original members normally pretend that all non-original members never existed (Kiss being the most recent perpetrators). Count on the Brits to give Duran Duran the classy tribute that the MTV awards screwed up so royally last September.

As for the performance, Simon can't quite hit the notes he used to, but the songs sound awesome as always, so it's no surprise that the live shows have been so well received. The "wedding" album was seen as a return to form ten years ago, and the all the live shows were well-received then as well, so this isn't solely a retro wave that they're riding -- the songs really are that damned good. Say hello to "Hungry Like the Wolf", "Ordinary World", and "Wild Boys". Other awards shows, particularly the Grammy's, need to learn from this -- if you're going to make a big deal about somebody and label them lifetime achievers, give them 15 minutes.

1:41 The Brit award album nominees are now complete, with the Darkness, Dido, Blur, Daniel Bedingfield, and The Coral. If these were the Oscars, Blur wouldn't win because they've won before, the Darkness have never been nominated and haven't paid their dues, the Coral are also young and thus have the time to win some other year, and Daniel Bedingfield is too pop, he's the equivalent of an actor getting nominated for a role in a comedy, or Johnny Depp's nomination this year. Thus, Dido would be the winner.

1:45 International Breakthrough (= a much better name than Best New Artist, because you can justify using the term to describe artists like Sean Paul who have been around for a while) and the winner is 50. Duh. International Album features the usual suspects (JTim, Beyonce, White Stripes, Xtina, Outkast), and the winner is Justin. Huh. It's only my first record, he says, so we still have depression and drug addiction to go through. Best line of the night by far.

1:50 But Cat is right, the night does belong to The Darkness and they prove it by storming through the final performance of the night, "I Believe in a Thing Called Love". Sure, they've set the business back thirty years, but so did Britpop (at the time). Expect the full disco and punk revivals to come along in a few years. Oh wait ...

I knew if I kept my hair long then it'd some back into style again. I am fashion.

1:55 Mmm Scarlet Johanson presents the Darkness with their Best Album award for "Permission to Land".

1:58. Uh, no, I'm sorry, I just noticed the feathered mane on Justin Hawkins. back, no this is not cool, maybe I should cut my hair.

This was a decent, if predictable show, partly due to show's placement in the awards show calendar because all the same people have appeared all the other award shows already and received all the same awards. But the Brits (the people) don't take awards shows (and the honour of winning the statues) as seriously as we do in North America, so as long as everyone had fun ...

Post show, Much Weekly shows some red carpet action, with Pharrell and Gwen Stefani complimenting Hannah Sung on her creepy Poltergeist hair, Alicia Keys arriving in a horse and carriage (??), and The Darkness pulling up in their custom painted muscle car. OK, that's cool, I am keeping my hair long after all.

I had another encounter with the evil Sonic Boom today. Evil as in awesome. There was a girl who arrived about the same time as me, and flipped through every last CD on the New Arrivals rack. She said she goes to SB almost every week. It's good to know that others are as sick as I am.

It is all part of my master plan to never pay more than ten bucks for a CD ever again. No more gems in the cardboard bins (I must have already bought all of the good stuff) but lots for under seven bucks. Nine discs later (twelve actually, since three were doubles, but NO, it did NOT work out to more than ten bucks per disc in those cases) and I once again have more music than I know what to do with. I did such a good job of catching up in December and January, and now I've fallen off the wagon again.

Flipping through the bins is mindless work, so I thought about ...
Daft Punk's "Digital Love" has a sticker which reads "featured in a Gap ad". Note to self : never buy a CD with such a sticker. This should be self-evident.

Saw a few techno compilations with "rave" in the title. See Daft Punk comment above.

This morning, I dusted off my cassette of "Pretty Hate Machine" and blasted my way through side one. Damn, it's such a great album after all these years. Hearing it makes me feel seventeen again. And suddenly, there I was in SB, staring at a $4.95 copy of this album, which has eluded (read : somehow never got around to buying) me on CD. And I stared at it for a few moments before continuing to flip. Because part of feeling seventeen again means crouched on the floor with headphones in my ears, killing my hearing with my cassette copies of NIN's music. It wouldn't be the same on CD. Wierd, huh?

Written on my very own computer! Holy crap!! I'm catching up with the technological times!!! I should take a picture of this right now!!!! Wait, I will get my roommate to do it!!!!!!

OK, we just took the picture, I will post it sometime!!!!!! Wow!!!!!!!

Anyhow, it's seven weeks into the New Year, and as usual, it's a slow time for new music releases. All right, I haven.t been looking very hard, but this is always the slowest time of the year for new releases. I'm merely fulfilling my usual January/February music conditioning requirements. True, I'm technically in the poor house until I pay for this computer, so I shouldn't even be thinking about buying new stuff, but how can I not when the music is so cheap?

But there's more to it than that . I'm not looking for any music, period. Nothing specific, that is. I've been wandering around the city with no shopping list, no target artists, not even an inkling of what I'm aiming to buy. I don't know what I want, but I'm willing to flip through rack after rack of used CD's in order to find it. I must be functioning permanently in West Coast shopping mode. This is the frame of mind to be in for buying old classics such as The Who's "Live at Leeds" and the second Portishead album, both of which I'd never heard before (making them SNH's of sorts). As for today, visited Sonic Boom and stole some CD's from them. No, I didn't shoplift, but I might as well have stolen them for the prices I paid. Ten discs, forty-five dollars. That.s practically an Amoeba-level bargain. Many of those were from the inauspicious cardboard bins they place at the cash and listening stations, and they're mainly filled with promo copies that are selling for outrageously low sums. The bins appear so shoddy, and the discs are wrapped in plastic instead of jewel cases, so most people don't even bother looking there. But today I found several gems, among them Mind the Gap volumes 7 and 9, and two recent promo releases from m-nus records (Niederflur and Theorem). And an old promo copy of the second Datach'i album for the grand total of 55 cents! This was not meant to turn into a bragging session, for my central message is this: visit Sonic Boom. Even the sounds coming from inside produce an immediate sigh of contentment. Clack, clack, clack . That sweet sound of dozens of people flipping mechanically through dozens of cheap CD racks.

Years too late, I've started listening to Galaxie 500. American indie rock has never been a vice of mine. It's not something I.ve consciously avoided (well, maybe just a little) but it's just generally not my cup of tea. Yet one day I wandered into She Said Boom and was immediately taken by the straightforward, lethargic, lo-fi buzz of songs that had me humming along nearly involuntarily. And even though I'd never heard the songs before, they seemed so distinctly familiar. The album was "Today", and a few downloads later in the day was all it took to get me hooked. I've since picked up "On Fire" and "Copenhagen" and discovered that nearly every G500 song sounds exactly the same, but I don.t get tired of hearing their songs nonetheless. Perhaps this is an innate quality of the best American indie-rock. Low, YLT and GBV have all tread consistent ground for their entire careers as well, but when you.re really good, these things don't seem to matter. Even the cover songs sound the same as their own songs. G500 could wave a magic wand over any tune and it was superglued into their patented formula. Their version of New Order's "Ceremony" completely floored me. I'd gush and say that it's even better than the original if the original wasn't one of my favourite songs ever, so I'm smart enough not to be so quick on the draw and give myself a few months to think it over.

It's so strange to get into a band years after their demise. It's a bit pathetic to know that this great music is out there and not get around to sampling it for so many years. However, it's also a bit exhilarating because the band's entire career is laid before you, there's so much to hear, so much to read, so much to learn, and so much to absorb. Everything about them is a fait accompli, their entire career crystallized before you on the web pages and years-old albums. There are no band growing pains, no wondering what the next record will sound like or when they're going to tour this part of the country again. You can only become so attached to something that is already dead, thus, you pursue their music with an emotional detachment that you don't have with living bands. It's a bit ghoulish, isn't it? But the central problem with chasing a departed band is that you will soon run out of things to hear, and once you've reached the point where there is nothing new to hear then you are stuck at that point forever.

Grammy diary!! (note: listed times are not exact. To calculate actual time from the listed time, please subtract five minutes from each entry. Please excuse the confusion).

8:00. And the big top-secret opening number is ... Beyonce and Prince. Ha, he's shorter than her.

8:05. "Purple Rain", plus a run through their respective "Crazy"'s. They pose and prance like all this is a big deal and some kind of perfomance for the ages, which it clearly is not. Prince is a has-been and Beyonce doesn't mean nearly enough yet for this to be the collaboration between legends that they seem to want it to be.

8:06. Let's all spend a night with music's royalty ... that's a really dumb saying, although the guest list is quite impressive. There's probably 100 people announced.

8:08. Quentin Tarantino is trying so hard to be cool, but he is just SOOOOO uncool. Every time I've seen this guy on a talk show or awards show, he comes off as the biggest dork on two legs. There's just no way to reconcile the geek that stands before us now with the genius who wrote and directed some of my favourite movies. I just don't understand how somebody so supremely gifted can be so awkward and unfunny.

8:09. Best Contemporary R&B ... as opposed to what?

8:10. So there's no single host tonight?

8:12. The Beatles era began forty years ago when the band performed on Ed Sullivan. Funny, I didn't know there was a Beatles era (more later).

8:12:30. Here's the most interesting aspect of the Grammys : the juxtaposition performances. In this case, it's Vince Gill, Dave Matthews, Sting, and Pharrell (on drums!) performing "I Saw Her Standing There". The only one who isn't singing is Pharrell, but his falsetto was BADLY needed here.

8:15. There's no way I can sit through three plus hours listening to this smarmy voiceover guy.

8:20. We have our early front-runner for ugliest outfit -- Queen Latifah is wearing some godawful semi-seethrough green curtain. Yes, Queen, sometimes it's not about the hype, or the controversy, only about the music. Good sentiment, wrong example (Xtina). This is the person whose most voice-driven single to date ("The Voice Within") is most certainly NOT about the music, it's about wearing a slip in the video that looks as though it will fall off at any moment and proudly displays her breasts in wonderous fashion. As for this performance of the devine "Beautiful", Xtina, please stop emoting/soloing/improvising/whatever you're doing and just SING THE DAMN SONG. If this was voice + acoustic guitar, then sure, but with 5000 people on stage with you I think people are already suitably impressed.

8:26. John Mayer and Matthew Perry engage in gay discourse (in every sense of the word) that only serves to highlight how ridiculous the category names are (but too bad, because the point of the banter was to be funny).

8:27. I guess Pop=Rock in Grammyspeak.

8:32. That riff is so not all that ... but the White Stripes do sound hot tonight ... and Meg looks yummy.

8:35. Steve/Perry make their 395th awards show appearance without the other members of Aerosmith, whose names nobody knows or could care less about, so what was my point again? And apparently nobody knows how to pronounce "Speakerboxxx". Andre 3000 accepts the Best Rap Album award and says nothing but "thank you". Good for him.

8:45. Martina McBride sings a song about child abuse on a stage that oddly ressembles the one for Michael Jackson's "Earth Song" performance at the 1996 Brits. That's creepy on so many different levels that need no explaining here. Fortunately, no children appear from within the white light and hail Martina as their personal messiah.

8:47. Janet reference I. The battle for Male Pop Vocal pits a bunch of Old Farts (and some dead ones too) v. Justin Timberlake. And the winner is the only person who wasn't nominated on the basis of past glories.

8:55. II. A tribute to the ailing Luther Vandross is introed with more hyperbole by Patti LaBelle (one of the greatest singers of all time? Yes, he had a stroke, it's a terrible thing, but let's be serious about our history).

8:59. Oh, this is just the start of the tribute!

9:00. It's 0% her fault, but Celine Dion looks really foolish singing with a dead mike while the production crew enlighten us with their panicking audio communiques. This is funny, but mainly because it's happening to Celine. Don't worry Celine, most people don't even remember Paul McCartney's mike dying at Live Aid, they'll forget this too.

The song is "Dance With My Father", and it's a cruel irony that Luther wrote this about his own late father when now it is him with the weakened nervous system. Particularly with the background stills depicting (presumably) Luther's own daughter, fathers dancing with their daughters at weddings, etc.

9:04. Luther joins us by videotape and sings a few lines. He sounds a bit weak, but the voice is still distinctively his. Seeing that he's OK and will likely be able to perform again is all the tribute I needed.

9:10. A veritable saint, friend to all men and women, lover and protector of all living things, gracious humanitarian, devoted activist, and all around stupendous guy Sting (oh, and, uh, Sean Paul too) with their dueling versions of "Roxanne". The crowd don't seem to care for SP while going bonkers for Sting, which shows how much they know.

9:14. Female Pop vocal does not equal rock as it did for the men, I presume that's because ... uh, gee, that's a helluva nice dress Xtina, hmmm, oh yeah, III, and what was I talking about again? With the winners so far, I could swear I was watching the MTV awards.

9:22. JTim (in a lily white suit) performs with 194 people (mainly dressed in black). How appropriate. He tickles the ivories, he sings with Arturo Sandoval's trumpet, and plays the jazz role much better than I would have expected from him. The guy can do jazz, pop, beatboxing, I'm impressed, no sarcasm.

9:30. According to Yoko Ono, the Beatles invented music and everything to do with music. Wow, I never knew that. But why are Olivia and Yoko there in person while Paul and Ringo sit at home and make their usual goofy jokes via videotape? It greatly diminishes the supposed importance of the occasion when half of the honourees can't be bothered to show up.

9:39. Black Eyed Peas perform a song I hate, but at least they appear happy to be up there. I'm drinking now, which helps to make portions of the show like these more tolerable.

9:43. Pianist Van Cliburn and guitarist Doc Watson get Lifetime Achievement Awards, but apparently their achievements weren't great enough to warrant a video montage, a performance, or even an actual award presentation.

9:45. Best Country Female goes to June Carter. The award is accepted by her son John Carter Cash who gives a respectful acceptance speech with undoubtfully the heaviest heart in the arena.

9:51. Ella Jenkins "wins" another supposed Lifetime Achievement Award.

9:52. This pop princess made musical history with a real Prince, ho ho, even Cuba Gooding Jr. can't say it with a straight face. They're giving that opening number a megapush to try and sell it as something special, but it's only about a 0.05 on the Britney-Madonna scale. However, Beyonce does give great performance. This one, with it's classy early 20th century moving portrait scene ... OK, forget it, that dove landing on her hand just ruined the whole thing for me. Way too cheesy.

9:58. Artie Shaw is getting more respect from me than he is from the Grammys. Just dropping their names next to an award means nothing. Contemporary stars get ten minutes of airtime and a Lifetime Achievement winner gets a twenty second mention. Why should we consider them to be special if the Grammys don't portray them as being special?

9:59. The hotly contested Best New Artist is between artists who have been around for years ... and it's Evanescence, although 50 thinks he's won. That's the slyest way of getting airtime on an awards show I've seen recently.

10:07. FUNK!! Perfect intros by Shaft the Second (Samuel L. Jackson), sermonizing about all things related to the church of eternal funk, Rupert Randolph is a bundle of energy, and everyone joins George Clinton at the end for the big funkadelicious meltdown. Now there's an ensemble performance that lived up to the hype.

10:27. Jason Alexander (not Britney's ex) pours his guts out to Snoop Dogg about how he was used by that tramp Ms. Spears. When Harry Met Sally was on TV in the middle of the night last night, and I stayed up to watch it. This Snoop-Alexander mini skit reminded my of the football game scene with Billy Crystal whining to Bruno Kirby. They should remake the movie with these two. They should remake every movie and cast Snoop in one of the starring roles.

Anyway, we have a Chick Corea / Foo Fighters performance to get to, and it's a honest-to-goodness reinterpretation of a FF song in a jazz-like style. FF are basically the elder statesmen of American mainstream rock these days, respected by old and young folk alike, and they've now been around a hell of a lot longer than Nirvana were (to put their longevity in perspective).

I've got to applaud Grammy for this improved format. Less talk, fewer stupid awards with contrived titles that nobody gives a crap about. And MORE MUSIC.

IV. (P. Diddy backstage)

10:33. Coldplay sneak in the back door and win Record of the Year! Chris Martin, who has been quite the man with words at awards shows recently, dedicates the win to a couple of Johns -- Cash and Kerry. He hopes the latter will be US President soon, which garners a big ovation. Yes guy.

10:41. Sarah McLachlan's "Fallen" drowns out Alison Krauss' fiddle work, but fortunately not her harmonies. Does Krauss really have eighteen Grammys? If she sticks around, she's could break the record someday (Sir George Solti has 31, I believe).

10:45. Ozzy sure looks good for a guy who almost died a couple of months ago. Rock duo or group goes to Warren Zevon (and Bruce Springsteen), as yet another dead person wins an award tonight.

10:57. The In Memoriam section of the broadcast concludes with a motley crew choir including Zevon's family, Emmylou Harris all Billy Bob Thornton all singing along with Zevon, "Unforgetable"-style. When did Warren Zevon become this year's chosen top departed musician? I think June Carter and Johnny Cash did 1000 X more for music than Warren Zevon. Oh well, it's time to start beer #5.

11:06. True to his name, Babyface still looks like he's fifteen years old. And Richard Marx, whose name has not been mentioned in serious musical circles in fifteen years (if ever) accepts the award for Song of the Year for "Dance With My Father", a song that never would have been nominated if not for Luther's stroke. No disrespect meant to the man, but somebody had to say it. Every award since Xtina's has sucked, and yet I'm having a pretty good time due to the improved performances and the consumption of liquor.

11:10. Neil Portnow comes out to tell us to be good boys and girls and stop downloading ... no, hang on, he's pushing for more government funding for the arts. My fault.

11:11. No, this speech IS about downloading!! Remember, the industry is giving you more choices and options than ever before, as long as 99% of you continue to pay $16.99 for a CD that cost $1 to produce. I've already written about my views on downloading, and they haven't changed significantly in the last three + years. I'll just say this: 1) isn't it funny how Mr. Portnow mentions legal downloading now (since he's realized the gig is up and he must accept it) as opposed to two years ago, when he vilified the entire internet's existence and didn't mention the concept of legal downloading at all. He can thank the likes of Steve Jobs for doing his damned job for him. 2) It's sick that he set this trap by rallying everyone behind him with the govt funding angle, only to drop his real agenda on our heads moments later. If you've got a bone to pick, then pick it, stop with the 3rd rate political slight of hand.

11:21. Jack Black, aliens, Outkast, and finger wagging steal the show (with both performances) just like they did in 2002. "Hey Ya" wasn't a tune that I loved at first, but it just gets better and better each time I hear it.

11:25. The legendary Sonny Rollins wins yet another perfunctory Lifetime Achievement Award, this one named for John Coltrane.

11:26. Outkast deservedly win for Album of the Year, which is the only choice that few critics, fans, non-fans and casual fans can complain about.

This was a long long show, and I was never bored (thank the beer?), but if the show was replayed I doubt I'd want to see much of it again (unlike MTV and MM awards shows). But I've got to credit Grammy with loading up the show with big time performances and almost no talk. Until next time ...

Q: Has there ever been a better use of the exclamation "WORD!!" in song than Mr. Lee's "Pump Up Chicago"?

A: No, there has not.

Something of a continuation of my grower/dormanter discussion from last autumn ... I've been rediscovering Flying Saucer Attack's "New Lands", and somehow this record sound more messed up and otherworldly to me than it ever did before. When I listened to it for the first time in a good two years, I was puzzled -- it sounded nothing like how I remembered it. There were no recognizable melodies, just hazy slabs of guitar fuzz and Dave Pierce's half-asleep vocals floating by once in a while. It was more lo-fi than I remembered it, filled with atonal squalls and raw, abstract, vaguely formed song ideas. Sure, I love that sort of stuff now, but that's the tolerance built up from years of worshipping the lo-fi and lovely, the Megos and the Tony Conrads, and the "ambient" mixes with three input layered into head-pounding sleet with distortion on top. So how was I able to digest "New Lands" in 1997 (#9 on my Top 10 list for the year)?

We need a new name for this. It's kind of the opposite of a grower. It's a record that you start out liking, but grow to like in a completely different way while losing all recollection of what you used to like about it in the first place. A delayer? An echoer? A returner? A ...

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I'm listening to Mojave 3's "Pictures" right now. A friend once asked for wedding song suggestions, so I lent him "Ask Me Tomorrow" and suggested "Pictures" in particular. He didn't use it, so one might assume that I could still use it for myself one day.

But I live by the principle of "never tell anyone your wedding song". Ideas this important should be protected, and not just because such things backfired for George on Seinfeld and Monica on Friends (with baby names). Therefore, since "Pictures" candidacy as a wedding song has been exposed to the world, I can no longer use it.

I haven't told anybody what it is, and I'm not going to until the reception plans are well in motion, deposits down, rooms booked, signatures on the catering forms, etc. I thought I was as good as hitched with my last gf, and the topic of wedding songs did come up, and I thought about telling her, but I stayed true to my principle and I didn't. "Then I'm not telling you mine", she said, which was A-OK with me at the time. But you just never know, because now we're broken up, but my secret remains safe with me, so all is good.

Some stuff I've been learning:

1. Catatonia's "Equally Cursed and Blessed" has not aged well. In particular, the lyrics for "Dead From the Waist Down" are horribly daft, and I can't imagine how I didn't notice it before. Chorus = "make hay, not war" = stupid, stupid, stupid. Releasing this as the first single was a huge career mistake, because the song was a departure (for them) sonically, and the charts had already been clogged for five years with "To the End" weepy epic soundalikes, and nobody was clamouring for any more of them. Releasing "Londonium" would have been far smarter -- livelier tune, better singalong factor, radio friendly at any time day or night, yet the subdued subject matter clearly signaled their shift toward a more introspective agenda. That's not to say that Catatonia's spectacular fall from grace wouldn't have happened anyhow (after all, they did have the gall to use the phrase "fall from grace" in a song, instant karma, yadda yadda) ... oh, and did I mention that "Dazed Beautiful and Bruised" remains one of only two decent power ballads in the history of music (Suede's "The Chemistry Between Us" is the other, and these days it's leaving "Dazed" in its dust).

However, "International Velvet" is still a boatload of fun, even though. 1998 was such a shit year for music, which makes memories of this album seem fonder, if anything.

2. Richie Hawtin is a very busy man when he's spinning. He spun for an hour at a free performance at the HMV on Queen Street, and it was the first time I've ever seen him work at floor level (and with the lights on). His weapons of choice are two turntable, TWO iMacs, a mixer that ressembles the dashboard of a fighter jet, and an effects controller. His literally moving all the time, always tweaking a knob or tapping a button. He also spends almost no time cueing records/beats. His mixing is as seamless as any DJ I've ever heard, a trait which obviously comes with a lot of practice, but the guy literally didn't spend more than seven or eight seconds cueing anythings, freeing up 97% of his time for shaping the mix with his multitudes of toys. These synching abilities can't be tought, it must be like with perfect pitch. You're just born with the ability. Richie Hawtin could walk into a parking lot, pick out two cars at random, smash their windows, and have the car alarms synched in less than five seconds.

He signed autographs afterward and I'm proud to report that I now have a signed white label of the classic "Loop" by LFO/FUSE. Boo. Yah.

3. When did CD's get so cheap? How am I supposed to save my money if such a situation sustains itself. First, there was the rack of ten dollar old-school techno compilations at Metropolis. Then there was the (seemingly inevitable) liquidation of all non funk, dub and hip-hop discs at Kops. I even scored a nice two-disc reggae compo at HMV for just ten bucks. And today, I spent a hefty chunk of time flipping through the racks in the ginormous Sonic Boom, which may be turning into the Amoeba Records of Toronto. Massive space, posters adorning the walls (albeit at 1/10 th Amoeba density), cheap used gem after cheap used gem. Not bad at all. If I never step foot in Amoeba again, that'll be oka .... all right, it damn well won't be okay, but my music needs are well attended to in right here in Toronto nonetheless.