I call my grandmother "grammy." Why do I bring that up? Because I love her. And because I think good ol' Grammy knows more about music than the 14-year-old teenybopper girls who vote for the Grammy awards.
Now I know there's no proof that Grammy voters are all young ladies, but the evidence is strong. How else could Connecticut's own John Mayer receive five nominations, including one for rock album of the year for his crappy blues CD?
In fact, you could say Mayer got 10 nominations since James Blunt also got five, and isn't he and Johnny the same dude? You know, the sensitive, dreamy white guy playing generic, Air Supply-like soft rock for young kids and older women? I'm swooning just writing this.
The one positive thing this year is that commerce and art came together. It happens once every five years, but sometimes great albums sell tons of copies and are heard all over the radio. Gnarls Barkley's "St. Elsewhere" is one of the best records of this year and it was nominated as such. Thank God.
Other fun tidbits include The Red Hot Chili Peppers "earning" six nominations for a disc that would be good if, no exaggeration, it was 60 minutes shorter. Sixty minutes! Mary J. Blige and the Dixie Chicks also got a bunch of nominations. And that's a good thing since both records are solid.
I know I sound like a broken record, but this is the saddest award show. People used to care; now nobody watches. It has no cred. Pardon me while I go cry now.