The Grammys have come and gone, and today I find myself lacking a single important moment to share with people. The performances were nice, and in some cases quite good (Allen Toussaint and the New Orleans brass line that followed Lil Wayne and Robin Thicke would have stolen the show had we not had to wait 3 hours to get to them, but that's just my Toussaint's worth), but at no point did my jaw drop with a sense of "this is where it's at."Indeed, the dissolution of monoculture in popular music suggests that there is no "where it's at" anymore: dozens if not hundreds of artists are where it's at for myriad microcultures throughout America and the world. So one might well ask if the Grammys really serve a purpose anymore.
But to wonder about that too much is to take away from some undeniably great music that was made in 2008. Coldplay's spirited take on the Song of the Year-winning "Viva la Vida" is but one example. And I came to appreciate the voices of Sugarland's Jennifer Nettles and neophyte warbler "Dude, you're gettin'" Adele, even if I wasn't so warm to their material.
Adele, the Best New Artist winner (and thus new curse-bearer) is an interesting case. She seems her generation's heir to the throne of Alison Moyet, though surely with some awareness of the current Corrine-Colbie-Feist crop of songbirds. I'd bet she's ridden down Tanita Tikaram avenue a few times too. She's got a fabulous husk to her voice and knows the value of restraint with it, and in her humble Grammy acceptance speech, she came across as sweet and grounded, the kind of person you'd expect to see cast as the understanding best friend of a just-coming-out gay teen in an indie British dramedy. I hope she records much more - and maybe I'll come around to changing my mind on "Chasing Pavements."
Which is not to be confused with the saga of my freelance-writing career, "Chasing Payments."
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