Posted Monday, February 09, 2004 by Gene

Various and sundry Grammy thoughts
Observations while wondering if Justin Timberlake has apologized to Janet's right boob yet...

--Good to see Prince again. Really really good to see Prince again. Where the hell has he been and can he please come back more often? That set with Beyonce reminded me of the opening of Raiders of the Lost Ark: Nothing that comes after can possibly top it.

--Almost as good: The White Stripes. They have somehow managed to tap into the Sixies psychedelia zeitgeist while still sounding fresh and new. Somebody explain how this works to Lenny Kravitz, who has been trying to do this for years. But would it kill them to throw in a few bucks for a bassist?

--I do believe a duet with Richard Marx and Celine Dion is one of the circles of hell.

--Christina: we know you can hold a note for roughly twenty-seven hours without a breath. That doesn't mean you have to prove it to us every third note. Somebody buy her a metronome or something.

--I believe I was awarded a lifetime achievement award sometime in the middle there. It was hard to keep track, what with everybody else on the planet getting one too.

--And is it me, or did they hand out only like five actual awards in the entire three-and-a-half hours?

--D'you think Yoko ruffled a few feathers when she described the Beatles as "John... and the others?"

--I officially no longer wish to hear Hey Ya ever again. I knew this would happen.

--That tribute to Luther Vandross was interesting. When they went to the taped message from Luther himself I was expecting him to say "I'm NOT DEAD, okay? Cut that shit out."

--I do not know who Robert Randolph and the Family Band are, but I resolve to find out.

--Whose idea was it to unearth George Clinton? Man's lost his pipes. And P-Funk should maybe have considered, I dunno, rehearsing a couple of times? Maybe?

--The highlight of the show for me was probably when Celine opened her mouth and started singing and all we heard was a tech saying "should I go to three?" over and over. I'd like to ask that that happen every time Celine opens her mouth. Who does one go to to arrange that sort of thing?

--Dear Sam Jackson: I'm sorry, but at one time you were the coolest guy alive. Then somebody went and told you you were. Now you are not. Please go away.

--Listening to Dave Matthews, Sting, and Vince Gill fail terribly in their attempt to hit all the notes in the Beatles I saw her standing there just made me appreciate what incredible vocalists John, Paul, and George were. I mean, Christ, Matthews didn't even show up in the same neighborhood as some of those high notes.

--Dear Quentin Tarantino: You were never the coolest guy alive and always thought you were. Please go away.

--Sean Paul does not sing. He just makes noise. That noise was an annoying distraction when Sting was attempting to sing Roxanne. This was a terrible idea.

--Also, um, was Sting wearing a dress?

--I could maybe listen to Sarah McLachlan sing all night. Can that be arranged too?