I don't watch the Grammys for two main reasons.
1. Contemporary pop music is mostly dull to me. As far as I can tell, it's largely about physically attractive singers gesturing and posturing their way through songs that are either innocuous or thunderingly message-oriented. Sometimes I love a song that's innocuous, and sometimes I love a song with a message, but often I search for songs that traffic in mystery and subtlety. These qualities are mostly absent from platinum selling product.
2. I don't really respect the notion of giving awards to artists, especially artists who make tons of money. I'm not saying I'd turn down such an award myself (especially if it had a cash component), but the spectacle of rich people crying in front of a giant audience leaves me cold.
Thus, I wasn't watching the Grammys last night when Adele talked and talked as she accepted an award, resulting in her collaborator and songwriter Greg Kurstin's acceptance speech being trampled on by the big show cranking up again to keep to the schedule. Some new music by A Tribe Called Quest drowned out the songwriter's words.
This morning a Facebook friend was upset about this, framing it as a great songwriter being disrespected by the music of some of the most talentless clowns ever to get onstage, or words to that effect.
I'm a songwriter myself, and I can see how a fan of Adele or Kurstin could be frustrated by what happened. I'm agnostic on Adele, having heard her music mainly when my students have asked to learn it; she's obviously an excellent singer and the songs are pleasant enough, but I'd rather listen to Bartók. To put it in perspective, though, give me Adele all day and night rather than one minute of Mumford and Sons. I'm pretty much done at Mumford; the Sons just make things worse, doing their super-white bearded and vested jig on the grave of my patience.
But I think the broadside leveled against Q-Tip and the late Phife Dawg is a great example of perception and perspective being very different from one American to another. To many white people of my acquaintance, hip hop is a loathsome invasive species, a symbol of the decay of black pop culture and an insult to real musicians of every color. I don't hear it that way. To my ears, any pop music that was displaced since the dawn of hip hop wasn't so good to begin with. Most rap is junk, I feel, and I can understand how its detractors could be unaware of the good stuff. Country music is a similar situation. But I haven't heard any pop music since De La Soul's first album that had anything approaching the creativity of that record. And Tribe's new album (presumably their last due to Phife Dawg's sad early death last year) won't make anyone forget their classic work from the 90s, but it is a pretty good record which my son and I have enjoyed listening to in the car as we travel to one of the many appointments on his middle school social calendar.
The Hot Plate radio show is dedicated to chipping away at America's lazy reliance on the demonization of The Other, whether it's gaudy rappers, or Muslim families, or stumblin'-drunk honky tonk artistes. I'm certainly tired of people dismissing and banishing people and things they don't know shit about, but I'm also tired of the anger towards the dismissers. I'm profoundly uninterested in going on air and insulting Americans that don't like some music that I love. I think it's much more fun to gently ease someone into a slightly more enlightened perspective. Studies indicate that dopamine is released into our bloodstreams when we roar into action to slam someone we disagree with over some perceived slight. All of us, once in a while, are like monkeys ringing a bell and getting a peanut. I'd rather get the peanut for helping someone see that they don't always have to suit up for the daily crusade against bad music. Why not loosen your straps a bit and listen to music that is miles away from your comfort zone? (Or, in the case of Iain Liversedge, kilometers away.)
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