I watched the Grammy Awards, because my wife wanted to watch it, and I had no choice. I liked seeing some of the old rockers like Kris Kristofferson, Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr. I also enjoyed the western groups, and one new female country singer wore a very short dress, and she had fantastic legs. Those were the good parts of the show.
I was annoyed at the new pop music acts and “artists.” Some young woman with black lipstick was unveiled to smoke and flames by the raising of what looked like a giant Japanese lantern, revealing her underneath. Then a troupe of people in tights all emulated grand mal seizures as they writhed around the stage, all while the black lipstick lady "sang." The music was cacophonous and the words unintelligible. The lady in black lipstick was later awarded a Grammy (a trophy resembling an old fashioned phonograph with a megaphone on top).
Then some black guys in white suits stomped around chanting and grunting to something called “Def Jam,” making me wish I really were def or that I could jam cotton into my ears.
Surprisingly, the best music group was one from France, whose name I have deliberately forgotten, who wore what looked like white space suits, including helmets with black, opaque visors, so their faces were completely hidden. Weeeeeeird. It kind of reminded me of the Cone Heads from Saturday Night Live, with the space aliens explaining in a robotic monotone: "We're from France."
There is a reason for all this dubious theater by the pop groups: it is to hide the fact that they don’t really have any talent. Their songs are garbage, the lyrics the incomprehensible mutterings of the mad. Without the giant lanterns, smoke, flames and space suits, they got nothing.
Towards the end of the ceremonies, Queen Latifa “married” 33 couples, some of whom were gay, right after some schmo with a weird haircut sang a non-melodic paean to the wonders of gay love. How did this figure into a ceremony honoring the best singers? It didn’t.