That the Oscars and the Grammys have so much in common no doubt heavily underscores their essential difference to society and their resilience to the tilts and shuffles of culture. Their categories even reveal how in touch with their audience the judges of such awards want to be. Both have received blunted importance with the metric ton of Year-End Lists that frequently precede the shows by months, yet both are still heavily televised events. Yet while the Oscars are unafraid to hold themselves in such high esteem as to call themselves the pinnacle of the filmmaking mountain, the Grammys stick to slippery zeitgeist signifiers—“We are music,” “Music’s biggest night,” and the like. What gives?
It’s entirely possible the Grammys are aware that nary anybody with a moderately tuned ear views their awards as the pinnacle of the songwriting profession. Most filmmakers covet Oscars; nobody covets Grammys. Yet in terms of track record, the Grammys certainly have the past year as a leg up on the “we’re cooler than you” competition, giving their Album of the Year award in 2011 famously to some band named Arcade Fire, while the Oscars ignored the clear-cut best picture and awarded it to Harvey Weinstein and a stutter. If benevolent Internet culture is willing to forget the neglect of The Social Network, then why isn’t there a rabid hope that the Grammys might be onto something with this Bon Iver guy?
Because the Grammys isn’t an awards show. It’s “American Idol” with megastars. They even say so in their slogans.
The Grammys long ago evinced their historical precedent as the longest-running music awards program (I would be ashamed too if you only gave The Beatles two major awards), favoring the big-tent spectacle of STARS, STARS AND MORE STARS. The Oscars have as much star power (more, really), yet their marketing scheme is usually predicated on its preordained rightness and history. If Grammy and Oscar were at an awards show themselves, Oscar would be George Clooney and Grammy would be Brad Pitt—they’re both about as cool as each other but Oscar would never grow that beard.
So why are the Grammys so bemoaned? Is it because the music industry is broken, and now only has one viable option in pumping its own swill up the charts in one last gasp? That’s got to be the only reason Mumford & Sons are there. Or is it the mere fact that the Grammys always feels like it’s trying too hard.
The crest of the Bon Iver wave is coming, and the backlash might have had a significant first shot to take with Justin Vernon’s proverbial “fuck you” to the Grammys to perform. While his point is valid—let us play our songs, don’t smash us together with someone—he’s partly forgetting that he let Peter Gabriel do him, and partly he’s not recognizing that the Grammys cannot purely be an awards show or a concert show. It has to be both, in as flamboyant a fashion as possible.
There will be a somewhat tangible sales jump for the song/record/album of the year winner this year (unless Adele wins, in which case life will continue as normal). But other than that, the only person who actively seems to care about the results of the Grammys is the man who owns the “Who the Fuck is Bon Iver” Tumblr domain.
The awards themselves don’t matter, less the acceptance speeches. So the Grammys have to survive on providing flashing lights and spectacle to go around a wholly disappointing self-congratulatory conference of musicians. Unlike the perennially interesting “Austin City Limits,” however, there are advertisers to appease. So in between what’s sure to be a generically heart-wrenching rendition of “Someone Like You” and the replacement for Bon Iver playing “Holocene,” we will get Bruno Mars, the man whom any woman over age 30 loves just for wearing a fedora. The Grammys are a Once A Year Sweeps Week, when we try and suspend our disbelief to stomach another Foo Fighters performance just like we stomach a Jessica Alba cameo on “The Office.”
So before bemoaning the meaninglessness of the Grammys, or the (not so) long shot of Bon Iver winning anything, or the likelihood that an emo-core expatriate might win something, think about how the Grammys feel. They’re actively throwing a party for a war that has been decidedly lost. Wouldn’t you try to throw the most audaciously self-glorifying party you could?
So kudos to the Grammys, for not going gently into that good night. Nobody really cares. But kudos anyway.
