Author: Michael Darling
Last week the 50th Annual Grammy Awards were held, and they celebrated their Golden Anniversary by staying true to one of their proudest traditions: honoring the least relevant nominee. Now, don’t get me wrong. I dig Herbie Hancock and Joni Mitchell, but a tribute album should not be declared the year’s best release. This got me to thinking about Grammy winners from the past. Upon doing some research I realized I’ve had it all wrong. Over the past half-century, the Grammys have made decisions that bravely challenged not just popular trends and the conventional wisdom, but also common sense.
The Grammys have made many a great decision throughout the years. In 1963 Ray Charles was nominated for Album of the Year for his genre defying Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music, a record that tore down boundaries within American music. The Grammy organizers could see how important this record was. Some might say it was too important, and that America was not ready for such a blatant flaunting of musical segregation. Instead, the Grammys decided it was best if the trophy went to Vaughn Meader’s The First Family. This album, based around Meader’s Kennedy impersonation, is as lightweight as it is lighthearted. To seal the deal, the album features that ever-welcome comedic device: the laugh track. I applaud the stance the Grammys took in honoring this hard-hitting political satire, especially the part dealing with the distribution of the children’s bath toys.
One of the most important awards has to be the Best New Artist trophy. This is a category in which the Grammys have often shown their foresight into what new artist will prove to be a legend years later. Whether it was Ward Swingle, Debby Boone, Hootie & the Blowfish or the Starland Vocal Band, the Grammys have always had an uncanny knowledge of what artist will become a star for years to come. In 1979, a young songwriter by the name of Elvis Costello was nominated for this award, but despite his rebellious talent, the gilded gramophone went to a band that dared to defy popular sentiment. As the ’70s ended, a backlash began against disco music. However, the Grammys knew that disco was going to last and be around forever, so they wisely honored A Taste of Honey with the Best New Artist Grammy. The Grammys recognized that this band’s hit song “Boogie Oogie Oogie” was a call for a revolution, possibly of the dance, dance variety, and more importantly a reminder that disco was alive and well.
Another brilliant Best New Artist pick occurred in 1990, when Milli Vanilli heard their name called from the podium. Robert Pilatrus, half of the duo, described himself as being more talented than Bob Dylan and Paul McCartney. “I’m the new modern rock ‘n’ roll. I’m the new Elvis,” he claimed. This was an apt comparison. In the ’50s, Elvis helped make R&B acceptable in the homes of white youths. Milli Vanilli also broke down barriers and paved the way for no talent pop stars like Ashlee Simpson to lip-synch their way through live performances. The Grammys honored these pioneers accidentally, for at the time it was unknown that they did not sing their own songs. Unfortunately, Milli Vanilli’s trophy was stripped from them due to public disapproval of lip-synching. I guess Milli Vanilli was just ahead of their time, but they still won a Grammy and that’s what counts. Sure, Led Zeppelin, John Coltrane and The Beach Boys may have never received a Grammy, but can their influence truly compare to that of Milli Vanilli?
In 1966, some of the brightest stars in the pop sky were nominated for the Best Rock & Roll Recording. The Beatles’ “Eleanor Rigby” and The Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations” led the field. The Mamas and the Papas, The Monkees and The Association were also nominated. However there was one more nominee in this field, and like David facing off against five Goliaths it came out on top. What was this underdog song? It was a pop confection recorded by the New Vaudeville Band called “Winchester Cathedral.” This self-consciously cutesy song won because the Grammy voters knew that nothing rocked harder than a Rudy Vallee sound-alike. Let’s face it, the Beatles’ use of strings wasn’t rocking enough and “Good Vibrations” was too trippy for normal Americans. In 1966, the best rock songs were the ones that could have been featured in Gold Diggers of 1933.
The greatest Grammy call of them all happened in 1981, for this was the year that Christopher Cross won all four of the big awards. His song “Sailing” is a beautiful composition sung with passion and . . . ugh, I can’t write this anymore. Cross is a white bread, yacht-rocking hack whose songs are probably being used as a form of torture at Guantanamo Bay as you read this. What was the Grammy committee thinking? Have they no soul, or even ears for that matter? There’s a reason this song is called “Sailing”: If you listen to it, you become seasick. This is the very definition of blandness that the Grammys have somehow found a way to endorse in at least one category for the past half-century. So, happy 50th ceremony, Grammys-hopefully you’ll soon start honoring performers that don’t induce nausea in the ears of real music lovers.
Michael Darling is a sophomore History major. He can be reached at mdarling@oxy.edu
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