MUSIC
Much Ado About Nothing, Again
Being lost at the 65th Grammys
The recent Annual Grammy Awards — 65th — got my attention for all the wrong reasons.
I stopped watching the glittery affair since Janet Jackson stopped attending. That was in 2004. But these things are like the Kinder Bueno chocolate you told yourself to stop eating after two and you’re on the fourth at the border of regret.
2004 was the same year Jackson was banned after her “wardrobe malfunction” episode with Justin Timberlake at the Super Bowl. What episode do you ask? Her boob popped out live on television.
The whole fiasco was either intentionally cooked up to create a media maelstrom and arouse a flagging viewership, or was a genuine mishap. Either way, Jackson, not Timberlake, was barred from the music scene.
That’s been the formula to entice social media fodder ever since. I stopped paying attention to talent since Paula Abdul stopped dancing on stage. The fact that many would be asking who Abdul is, is a reminder of how long it’s been. Cold Hearted, Paula Abdul. Good times.
The Grammys used to be fun but it all died roughly in the 90s.
This year it was no different. In fact, we’ve lost the plot altogether about what the awards are about. At this point, I’m too scared to ask.
Harry Styles won Best Album beating Beyoncé. You don’t need to know the other nominees. This alone tilted the axis of the planet and Queen Bey’s fans have gone to social media demanding an apology from Styles. What audacity do you ask? That’s obsessed fans from the “Bey Hive” for you.
While I am still struggling to make sense of what Styles was wearing (is he or is he not a Harlequin?) his acceptance speech was the focus on others:
“I think on nights like tonight it’s important for us to remember there is no such thing as ‘best’ in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio making decisions on what is going to get us one of these,” Styles said in his acceptance speech.
He went on to say, “This doesn’t happen to people like me very often,” which launched a thousand ships called white privilege. It was a matter of time before Styles was going to fuck it up somewhere.
It rubbed the wrong way as many nominees snubbed that night were colored. He won over Beyoncé, Lizzo, and Bad Bunny (representing the Latin community).
Was this a surprise? For as long as it’s in America, I’d say no.
Was it worth the social media eruption? Not really. You just needed a point of contention and it could be anything. The fact that Styles’ performance was less than stellar was forgivable to the fans.
I too questioned how Styles surpassed his more seasoned peers … till a few days ago I was at a remote village for work, and while looking for lunch under a tent, Styles’ song came on the local radio. There I was in the middle of nowhere and Harry Styles was singing to me over my plate of rice drizzled in soya sauce. Okay, I get it. This dude is everywhere.
Madonna was not spared at the 2023 Grammys either.
Her new face was the talk of the show and is the topic of discussion among netizens worldwide — the Gen Z self-proclaimed experts and social critics. Suddenly, everyone’s an aesthetician.
If Madonna came out looking her age (64), she’d be attacked for the lines and wrinkles on her face. You’d tell her to stay home and knit a sweater since she hasn’t made club-pounding music for some time. Even if she did, she’d probably lose to Harry Styles too.
I’m a fan and I admit she looked like a Teflon pan in which butter could easily slide off the cheekbones but I’d shut up when the Empress speaks.
I mean, the woman has paid her dues, surviving since the 80s. She has reconstructed herself so much that she admitted herself that she could donate her body to Tupperware.
JLo was there with Ben Affleck and her scolding him was captured on camera. It is making the meme rounds for the week. Was it planned?
Who cares, right? But clearly on social media everyone cares about this vapid shit. Makes me question what happened to talking about talent when all it boils down to: race, relationships, and ridiculousness.
This reminds me of the 2017 Palme d’Or winner “The Square”, a film by director Ruben Östlund (also behind the 2023 Oscar-nominated Triangle of Sadness).
The Square is a satire taking aim at the pretensions and affectations of the Swedish art scene. Centered on the life of a curator named Christian, the movie reflects how modern society finds it hard to live up to our high-minded progressive, humanist ideals.
We think we are of a cultured pedigree but all our actions seem to suggest otherwise.
Throughout the movie the preaching of bettering society and promoting virtues of goodwill are repeated yet, beggars and the homeless yelling “Help” and asking for compassion are consistently ignored.
We are animalistic, self-serving and in the light of a real crisis, the first thing we do is to go inward and solve our own needs, even if it means to the detriment of others.
The Square is both a metaphor and an art exhibit in the movie supposed to represent a safe space.
It isn’t a big square on the spacious museum compound. A powerful juxtaposition.
This itself tells you how society frames its priorities and to whom it extends its “safe space” privileges when the whole world itself — space outside the square ought to offer protection as well. Why not? Who then fits into the square? Who gets rejected to be outside the square?
So, who qualifies and fits into the small square? Your guess is as good as mine. Just like your guess is as good as mine how shows like the Grammys operate these days outside its own square of talent.
Meanwhile, I stand outside looking in, somewhere between lost and dumbfounded, still questioning what the heck is Harry Style wearing.
