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February 15, 2005
185: Mommy, can I go out and kill tonight?
I totally forgot to mention the portion of the Grammys I watched on Sunday, which was abruptly cut short by my freaking out in the kitchen. Dinner tasted fine, but it was nonetheless tainted by the bitter taste of my RAGE.
The Grammys are an irrelevant awards show where prizes are generally given based on the artist's nostalgia-factor or being the darling of equally irrelevant music critics. An award for "best newcomer" is given as the kiss of career-death to a band that's been around for at least a decade and never created anything your grandmother wouldn't like. There are some musical numbers throughout the evening so you don't even have to bother with the Tivo if you need a bathroom break. And when no one is crooning in pimp clothes, they bring people up on stage to thank their mothers and God.
The girl across the ventilation shaft went crazy-go-nuts when Green Day won, which was kind of sweet. I once did the same frantic, screeching, jumping dance of joy for Metallica. When was that? '89? Remember when they lost to Jethro Tull? Yeah, so that's the Grammys in a nutshell right there.
My observations on this year's show:
1) I have never liked Norah Jones and I like her even less now. Her music makes me feel like I'm in Pier 1, on the verge of passing out from potpourri fumes. She wore one of the worst dresses I have ever seen, performed like it was karaoke night and she hadn't had a Sapporo yet, and really needs to cut her hair.
2) Man, Usher can dance. How did he become so big? I remember being in middle school and he was "new," and then he disappeared, dated someone from TLC and became the new Michael Jackson (minus the "kiddie Fear Factor" lifestyle). I still think his head is oddly shaped but I liked watching him dance with James Brown.
3) I still hate rap. Well, I hate "rap" as a lifestyle, more accurately. How hypocritical to build careers out of self-congratulatory fantasies of being a pimp, a gangster, a misogynist, being fat, etc. and then get on stage to weep over your award, blubbering about Jesus and your family? Ugh.
4) Melissa Etheridge is hardcore. The woman has cancer, no hair, and although I have never liked her music, she came on stage and SCHOOLED YOU. Amazing!
5) Green Day grew up and became Goth. Not that it's a bad thing.
7) I still hate everything, especially new things. As Chris so accurately put it, I only like "bands that are dead or wish they were." Maybe there's something relieving about knowing a band will never grow old on stage, lose their way and try to do "concept" albums involving African drums, or change in ways you're not ready to support.
Despite my desire to, every six months, throw out everything I own and start anew, I hate change. Well, I hate change I don't initiate. I realize that being out of college leaves me a little out of the loop musically because I don't have someone like Ilyssa to gently introduce me to newer music. That said, I'm not totally apart from the world, I just act like I am. To this end, I would like to declare my support for Eighteen Visions.
What seals the deal is their drummer, because he's in love with rock 'n roll whoa, he's in love with getting stoned whoa. Actually, he's (thankfully) not at all the latter because he's straightedge, but he is (also thankfully) very much the former. "Trevor Dark Baby" is clearly keeping the Misfits/AFI dream alive with that devilock, like Davey circa 1999. Sweet.
See... some affection for some new music. I mean, it's affection inspired by a love of older things but whatever.
Posted by ashley at February 15, 2005 09:42 AM
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