On Saturday, as Teresa and I set out on the two-and-a-half hour drive from our home in Virgin, Utah to attend the Grammy’s in Las Vegas, I found myself already consumed by what I might write for this week’s BOOST. I kept these thoughts to myself because I wanted this trip to be fun. My goal was to stay positive but my mind was not cooperating.
All I could think about were the negative parts of the music business. I’ve never trusted corporate power in art and these days it seems that the industry’s primary investments are to buy up the rights from the great songwriters of the 70s and 80s. This seems wantonly cynical about the future of commercial music.
Then, I think about all the various musical expressions I cherish, and it reminds me of what the Grammys leave out. So much music is made for reasons other than commercial success. I wonder why I see no Native American nominees or why cowboy singers don’t fit in the regional roots category. I’m sure polka musicians gave up on the Grammys years ago. And yet, there is a lot of diversity in those 86 categories. It’s a broad beautiful world of music out there.
This is our first time attending and we don’t know a soul. I contemplate being surrounded by throngs of slick music types, most with shallow musical tastes. And then it starts getting personal. I think of my own music and how a lifetime of working at it has brought me no closer to qualifying for Grammy consideration than when I started music as a little kid. And yet there is a part of me excited to experience the event with an open heart. I’m not in it for the Grammys
As a Loose Cannon I’m free to be a claimer, rather than a disclaimer. I welcome your observations, questions, disagreements in the comment section below.
The Voting Member
This past year I became a voting member of the Recording Academy, which is the organization that puts on the Grammys. As a member, I’m charged to review and vote both for preliminary nominations and then for the finalists in each category.
I feel called to admit: I shirked my duty and did not vote. I hope I don’t get thrown out for this. I wanted to vote. I sampled playlists so I could make informed decisions but much of what I heard sounded like tired versions of something I’ve heard over and over. It was difficult to review music I knew little about, particularly a few genres I actively dislike.
I take pride in being a good listener who can discern the subtleties of music but generally my tastes are simple. I adore recorded music but see it as a digital artifact of something alive and breathing. To my ear many of the recordings I listened to were smothered in layers of sound. I should have just voted for things I knew about or where I could clearly discern the cream rising to the top. I’ll learn. I promise to vote next year.
1. The Three-Hour Line
The Grammys employ a byzantine ticketing system. As a member we can purchase two tickets. Then we are required to show up the day before the festivities to wait in line with hundreds of other ticket holders to prove we are who we purport to be and get our packet.
As we stood in line most people were lost in their phones or trying to look cool. But as the hours ticked by, the line barely moving, I started to realize we share something in common here, the love of music.
The woman behind me comes each year. She’s a jazz musician and tours internationally. We compare pictures of our grandkids. Hers are brown, mine are blond. I save her place in line when she needs to make a call and when I return from a restroom break, she sees me across the big room and waves me over to be with Teresa. We look out for each other.
Everyone was courteous. We all complained about the wait, but people were in good humor. And I wonder if they do this “wait in line” thing on purpose to make sure we pay our pilgrimage dues.
2. Vegas Fashion and the Grammy Look
It’s been a rough couple of years for human intimacy. As we checked in at the hotel we noticed that our fellow travelers are dressing better than last time we were here whether they’ve come to the Grammys or to party. Our room overlooked a fake beach where throngs of young people drink excessively to a throbbing beat as they revel in a spring break kind of way. Skimpy bikinis adorn every body type. In the lobby we are passed by so many girls teetering in stiletto heels, in their tiny black skin-tight dresses barely covering their panties. And what I sensed, more than sexuality is desperation. For all the beauty of finding love, there is so much that is agonizing. It all makes for good-old tragic love songs.
The next day just after noon we gathered in our formal wear or as it turns out, our best creative wear. The press focused only on the red carpet and what famous music people were wearing. To me the most interesting thing was all the wonderfully creative fashion worn by the same people we stood in line with yesterday in their sweats and jeans. I’m not sure I would recognize them today in their finery. They call this a black-tie event and some folks wear traditional formalwear but there is everything. My eye is drawn to a canary yellow gown trailing dangerously in the crowd so low cut I wonder how she deals with containment. There is a wild hoodie suit I keep seeing from the back. With the hood up it is so large it could fit a great bears head. I never saw the guys face. The fun part is the array of colors, the patterns, the whimsy, the dark and cool. The dress is as musical as the music in its variation both for men and women.
It's been a rough couple of years for everyone but when live performance locked down, the music business was hit particularly hard. So this year’s Grammys had a celebratory look to it. And the fashion shouts, “We have survived.”
3. Folk and Bluegrass No Shows
A majority of the categories for Grammy Awards are given out before the televised show that happens at the big MGM Grand Arena next door. This early celebration is all about getting it done. There are a smattering of musical performances but it is mostly about the prizes. Still the passion of acceptance speeches, the diversity of music is the part of the Grammys that interests me most.
I’d guess there are a thousand people in the room but it feels like I’m one of the few cheering for my categories, namely folk music, bluegrass and other rootsy genre’s. This is where I know the music and the musicians.
In other categories when nominees names are announced there is hooting from some corner of the hall, fans and family shouting out. But in my categories there is little response. To make matters worse neither of the winners in folk and bluegrass, Rhiannon Giddens nor Béla Fleck, show up or have someone there to accept their award. It’s disappointing. I might mention there is a nod to bluegrass on the evening program with a brief performance by Billy Strings but still it feels like the Grammys have lost touch with some of the roots of roots music.
4. Joni and Brandi
A highlight of the afternoon was when Joni Mitchell accepted a Grammy for Best Historical Album. Everyone in the hall stood to welcome her as she slowly made her way to the podium. Through her ailments I heard a youthful delight as she accepted her award. The last time I witnessed that youthful delight in person was in 1969 when I spent a day with her shopping for cowboy shirts for her then love, Graham Nash. I fell in love with her first record and booked her to perform at our college campus. And then we went shopping together prior to the concert.
Later that evening Joni took the stage with Bonnie Raitt., who had received a lifetime honor earlier. They were there to introduce Brandi Carlisle. I always loved Joni Mitchell’s signature wild vibrato at the end of phrases. When I first heard Brandi Carlisle, I pegged her as a Joni Mitchell wannabe. But the more I listened to Carlisle, the more I saw the breadth of her voice. When I read her memoir, I learned what a devoted friend she has been to Joni Mitchell and her artistic legacy. So I’m touched by these two music legends introducing Brandi’s wonderful rendition of, “Right on Time,” The song is one of the most subdued stage productions of the night but shines with the pure power of great musicianship. She can hit the high notes with such grace.
5. POP Music
I admit a healthy distrust of pop music but I’m working to understand it in an age where lines are blurred. The breathy, overly earnest little girl voices blend together. And the smooth boy voices with mini-pop yodels don’t inspire my trust. The attempt to sound vulnerable and sincere often sounds hollow to my ear. When I listened to the nominees, the Latin pop artists caught my attention, particularly Pablo Alborán with his song, “Que Siempre Sea Verano.” He didn’t win but this guy has a tragic edge to his voice that touches me.
Being at the Grammys has allowed me to confront my musical biases and man, was I in for a surprise. In his introductory remarks, host Trevor Noah said that this was going to be an amazing musical concert that gave out a few awards on the side. The description was accurate. The award presentations were heartfelt but the performances were stellar. Even though Teresa and I sat way at the back of the arena, so high that supplemental oxygen had to be pumped in, we loved the spectacle of it all. Maybe it’s the contrast of living rural but we even got up to dance when Jon Batiste performed “Freedom.” When he sang out, “When I move my body just like this, I don’t know why, but I feel like FREEDOM!” We had no choice but to dance.
The big production performances offered incredible displays of grandeur, creative opulence, and power that doesn’t quite translate to television. There was Billie Eilish’s break up song, “Happier Than Ever,” starting with a simple vintage song that morphs into a grand show of anger as she climbs from her intimate on-stage cottage to the rooftop rocking out with her talented brother, Finneas. Then there was nineteen-year-old Olivia Rodrigo who captured the angst of teen love with “Drivers License.” as she stands by her vintage white Mercedes singing about what it is like to stock the boy who is untrue. Lil’ Naz X and Jack Harlow got “all epic,” in a medley of hits from the album “Montero.” From sparkling black capes to full black and silver Napoleonic uniforms, the dancing was acrobatic. For me, the best was Jon Batiste’s production of “Freedom,” vibrating with yellow, violet and movement.
I’m a Lady Gaga fan but her singing this night was inelegant. Then there’s Justin Bieber. He just does not interest me. There were other great musical moments that shine without all the lights and staging. Chris Stapleton’s “Cold” reminded me how a simple song can fill a vast arena.
The In-Memorium part of the program was heavenly with incredible performances by Cynthia Erivo, Leslie Odom. Jr., Ben Platt and Rachel Zegler singing a medley of Stephen Sondheim songs. It’s cool to hear the murmur of the crowd as names of those who we have lost are flashed on the screen. It sounded both communal and personal.
Bonus scene: Peace and Love
The show stopper was when Ukrainian President Zelenskyy offered a virtual appearance telling us to, “Fill the silence with your music.” Then John Legend sat at the grand piano singing his song, “Free,” as he exchanged words with Ukrainian artists Siuzanna Iglidan, Mika Newton, and Lyuba Yakimchuk, I can’t imagine anyone with a beating heart who could not feel the transcendent power of this plea for peace.
“Go down, Moses,
Way down, Moses.
Go down to Egypt land.
Lay down soldiers
Lay down those weapons, let peace rush in
Let it wash through the valley
Soar to the mountains
Fall in the deepest blue sea
Let it fly ‘cross the sky
A banner so high
That even the rockets will see”
Many of the acceptance speeches talked about love and peace with a sincerity that went way beyond show business. Unlike in the Academy Awards, I never felt like I was being scolded. Particularly powerful statements of gratitude came from the Brothers Osbourne, Jon Batiste, and by Kau Ka Pe’a
Music reflects life. At its best, music is life – transcendent. By that I mean, “extending or lying beyond the limits of ordinary experience.” It’s not just spiritual. Music captures the pain, the hope, the joy, the dream of change. If music is not healthy, people and society are not healthy.
Driving home the next day, we talked about how the whole scene of celebrity and fashion had a generosity at its core. Teresa admited how deeply tired she was when we set out, and how replenished she feels now. Music can do that when there are so many deeply felt messages of love, concern and healing.
Thank for taking us along on your journey. It seems that the way to a man's heart is often through the ears. Your beautiful photo of your granddaughter was a wonderful summation.
I worked for he Grammies for one horrilble year in the late 1980's. As for the event, my only comment is that music is not a bowling tournament.