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The 46th annual Grammys proved many things - and not just that pop stars can party with their clothes on.
Sure, after the Super Bowl flesh fiasco with Justin Timberlake and Janet Jackson, lots of looky-loos tuned in to the CBS Grammy broadcast to see which stars would show up - Timberlake did, Jackson didn't - and get a glimpse of a scandal or more exposure of naughty bits during a "live" performance. (The network took care of that with a five-minute delay.)
Good. I'm glad folks tuned in, for whatever reason, and I hope they stayed glued to their TV sets all night, because the 3 1/2 -hour broadcast showed some of the finest in today's popular music. It also indicated, if Grammy winners are any proof, some interesting new trends I'm excited about.
With the exception of Timberlake using his acceptance speech to again apologize for his part in exposing Jackson's breast, the Grammy show was about the thing it was supposed to be about: MUSIC.
Unlike other awards shows - hello, MTV - there wasn't a lot of idiotic celebrity tomfoolery. Maybe that made the Grammys less "fun" for some, but it kept things focused, and it kept the night's vibe sincere. There's something to be said for rock stars streaking and divas making out with each other, but after a while, getting back to basics and acting properly seems, well, revolutionary.
Acting normal = the new rebellion?
How novel!
Anyway, terrific moments included:
--THE MOST IMPORTANT ALBUM OF THE YEAR IS A HIP-HOP ALBUM. GUESS WHAT? IT'S ABOUT LOVE. NOT THUGS.
Who knows what would have happened if curmudgeonly thug rapper Eminem had been nominated against the gonzo visionaries OutKast. My hope is that the Grammy still would have gone to the Atlanta duo's Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, a two-disc work of art, each side a separate work by Andre 3000 and Big Boi.
The Love Below is a "concept album" of sorts by Dre, and it's devoted entirely to romance, with all its thrills and foibles. Songs bristle with the passions of a new affair, the fears of falling in love, the anxieties of one-night stands. It's a rare glimpse inside the mind of a bright African-American man in his 20s, his views and vulnerabilities on amore.
There's not a gun in sight. Not much about bling-bling or ghettos or gang violence. It's straight up love, loss and gettin' inside the mind of a brother preoccupied by love, despite himself.
Could it mark a new trend? Could gangsta rap and thug mentality in hip-hop be on the way out? The Grammys also showcased wonderful live performances by both OutKast and the socially conscious crew the Black Eyed Peas, whose Where Is the Love? urges folks to not be influenced by negativity, including that in movies and the media.
--POSITIVITY AS A THEME:
Folks say it always takes a good war, or a conservative in office, to stir up "good art." Maybe it's the bleeding heart in me, but I'm noticing lots of music with compassion, like the hip-hop with a love vibe and the Foo Fighters performing Times Like These. Dave Grohl's lyric struck a chord:
It's times like these you learn to love again
It's times like these you give and give and give
It's times like these you learn to live again
Did you notice, too, that Coldplay's Chris Martin dedicated his award to Massachusetts Sen. John Kerry, in the hopes that he might be "your next president"? Maybe what's inappropriate for an American at an awards show is not so rude for a Brit. (I wonder if wife Gwyneth Paltrow gave him a pinch when he got home.)
--BONA FIDE LIVE PERFORMANCES:
As in, hey, no lip-synching! Maybe you didn't recognize her, fully clothed in the dandy velvet pinstriped suit, but that was Christina Aguilera singing Beautiful, backed by the string section and choir. I'd love to see Britney Spears pull that off, without a tape, without vocal modulation, without a bunch of frenetic dance moves and nudity and flashy points of light to distract you from the fact that she has no voice.
--AN APPRECIATION FOR OUR MUSICAL ROOTS:
We got a dose of modern blues rock from Detroit duo the White Stripes, who nearly tore the roof off with a blistering version of Seven Nation Army and had me asking, again, how do Meg and Jack, two kids, make so much vicious noise?!
The Foo Fighters with jazz great Chick Corea on piano accompanying? Incredible. The group played the Foos' lovely Times Like These, beginning slowly with Corea dabbing at notes tenderly. As Dave Grohl and gang picked up the pace, I was impressed with Corea's rockingness. Immediately, I checked myself: The guy played with Miles Davis! He can handle anything.
Then there was Justin Timberlake sitting in on organ and vocals with Latin jazz trumpeter Arturo Sandoval for Senorita.
How about the awesome 11-minute tribute to funk that began with Earth, Wind & Fire, then had Big Boi of OutKast get in on the action with his hit The Way You Move, which morphed into an amazing few minutes of a scrumptious pedal steel guitar-led hootenanny by Robert Randolph and the Family Band. At one point, Randolph kicked himself off his stool like Jerry Lee Lewis and began doing all kinds of crazy dancing. Behind a pedal steel! Chaos, I tell you.
How do you follow something like that? With George Clinton and Parliament-Funkadelic. The Mothership of Funk landed with Clinton, his rainbow-colored ponytail sprouting from his head, wandering the stage. All the performers were now singing together: Turn this mother out, from P-Funk's classic.
It was funky, sexy, crazy, ballistic.
And everyone had clothes on.
To contact Gina Vivinetto e-mail gina@sptimes.com