Quiet Grammys

Except for The Police and Shakira with Wyclef, the Grammys were kind of s-l-o-w.  Very ballad-heavy performances (from what I saw) and except for a couple of funny speeches, it was a ho-hum spectacle.  But, really what do you expect from an Awards show.  Sure, they tried to inject some American Idol juice into the show by having a competition between three female vocalists who sounded pretty much the same.  The prize?  To sing with Justin Timberlake and not have a “wardrobe malfunction.” Prince was looking like Shelia E., and Mary J. Blige’s speech had to be a joke because if it wasn’t, it sure is now. Oh and a big “ha-ha” to the country music industry!  Despite all their efforts to get the Dixie Chicks to shut up, they pretty much took home all the awards they were nominated for. So a big, fat redneck “Yee Haw!” for my new girlfriends.   

But back to Blige for a moment…

As I was listening to her, she mentioned God and Jesus a number of times, and after the third mention, I just wanted Jesus or God to come down, grab the Grammy and run around the stage chanting: “I’m number one!  I’m number one!”  But, that didn’t happen, so I was basically bored.  

I was, however, very stoked to see The Police play together again! It was really interesting (in a music geek sort of way) to see how they handled a 30 year old song with the collective chops they have accumulated in their post-Police career. I was watching Stewart play drums, and he added a lot of spice to the drum parts that gave the song a jazz quality.  Overall, they looked like they were having a blast, and if their egos can play nice, we may get a reunion tour. But if  you want to hear them rehearse for a club date (and possible tour), you can check out a live webcast at 11am (PST)/2pm (EST) HERE.

Despite the rather sleepy show, watching all those artists play made me more motivated to practice my drums and guitar!  So see?  Even though I was a bit snarky about the show, it had a personal side-effect that is pretty positive!

Thank you Jesus! And God…and Jesus…God…and my manager, Howie Epstein…and Jesus…and, um, the teleprompter operator…and (Cue blaring “Get off the freaking stage” music here).


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