I sat in my bed on Feb. 8 in anticipation, but not about who’s going to win Album of the Year or what the top rap song of the year would be. Absolutely not. If not for my journalistic responsibilities, I probably would have been watching some special on black holes on the History Channel or a new episode of Man Vs. Wild. Really, how awesome is Bear Grylls?
The performances were ok. “Swagga Like Us” was pretty awesome, but other than that I wanted nothing more than a fast-forward button on my remote to skip to the good part. Come on, the Jonas Brothers and Stevie Wonder? Seriously? It’s bad enough that people who are irrelevant to today’s popular music are winning the most prestigious award the industry has to offer. Don’t get me wrong: They sold a lot of albums. Robert Plant, arguably, may be the father of today’s rock n’ roll. The guy was the lead singer of LED ZEPPELIN. But keep in mind, he WAS the lead singer of Zeppelin. They broke up eons ago. Forgive me, I digress.
Jennifer Hudson’s performance was beautiful and the Coldplay/Jay-Z collaboration kept me interested until at least the next commercial. However, those were not the reasons I stayed tuned to the broadcast.
Rumors swirled for weeks that Blink-182 was getting back together. By getting back together, I mean recording a new album, putting it out, going on tour, etc., etc. Then another rumor popped its head out of the compost heap that is the online message board community. Blink would be at the Grammys. On stage. Together. Their Myspace page had been re-vamped, new merchandise had been put on sale, and the masses rejoiced. The world may be right again.
For some, this was an earth quaking announcement. I, for example, slapped hands with my roommate and proceeded to change my Facebook status to “BLINK 182 IS BACK NOW WE CAN ALL DIE IN PEACE” immediately. It seemed like the natural thing to do at the time.
Then the moment faded. Blink-182 left the stage and the show continued. But not for me. I kept taking notes, making little comments here and there to put in my article, and badgering my friends on Facebook (obviously) about how the world will change now that one of the most important bands we grew up with was back. For what seemed like 20 seconds, the Grammys were AMAZING. Those 20 seconds were better than every award given out, every god-awful acceptance speech, and every weak suit and dress today’s stars wore on the red carpet.
It won’t happen again. It’s proven that the ratings for all award shows, not just the Grammys, are declining. Blink-182’s beam of light shone for the blink of an eye (pun very much intended), and then disappeared and the timed-out, over-produced “spectacle” of music’s biggest night kept rolling. Something needs to be done about this, about how terrible the Grammys have become. But nothing will happen. Next year, you can expect an even bigger, infinitely higher-budgeted production with performances outnumbering presented awards ten to one.
I, for one, care just enough to complain about it. Not necessarily enough suggest a solution to the high lameness-factor of the show, but just enough to whine about how boring it is and to cheer one of its successes, not matter how small that is. Blink-182, a band that meant the world to me growing up, has reunited. I’ll sit through Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus for them any day.
Corrado Rizzi is a journalism student at William Paterson. He blogs weekly at randomyetsincere.blogspot.com.
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