Grammy Final Report:The After-Party.

There was more standing in line to get into the official Grammy celebration, which everyone in the Staples Center, or perhaps in LA seemed to be standing in line for. By that time, my heels were killing me and I nearly fell on my face trying to get in. Still it’s the longest I’ve been on heels since I worked at ALA conferences. Still there was more standing and walking to come: standing around looking for food, standing in line for food, standing around eating food.

We were in line for like 20 minutes for one line and when we finally got the table the two girls in front of us were pissed. “There’s no more food at this table! We’ve been waiting in line and there’s no food!!!” Sadly it was true. Luckily there was another line to wait in right in front of us!

Meanwhile, Natasha Bedingfield entertained the crowd with her two hits and some other songs. She was actually pretty good. “I bet her brother is pissed.” I said to Christina. And there was the roll call of celebrity semi-sightings. Christina is way more astute than I am and pointed people out right away:

C: “Isn’t that Ashford and Simpson?”
K: “Where?”
C: “Right in front of you!”

Same thing happened later with the guy from I Love New York 2, Stevie Wonder (which is why I only saw the back of his head), and then Quincy Jones. I am about 95% sure however, that I saw Skid Row’s Sebastian Bach at the big table ‘o shrimp with his wife. I could tell by the hair and the tall-ness. They were really into those shrimp. And with the dude from I Love New York2, I wouldn’t have known him if he rolled up and punched me. I have not seen that show.

Then there was a certain point where we were turning random people into musicians:

*Man wearing black with emo haircut walks past*
C: “Who’s that?”
K: “I don’t know, he looks like he could be in My Chemical Romance or something,”

One of the exotic-type performers on the tables at the party was off duty for a second and walked past, I tried to put him in a band too.

The booze line was one of the longest lines I’ve ever stood in for anything. Not exaggerating. I befriended people in line as we talked about what kind of drinks we would get if we ever got to the end of the line, like prisoners waiting to serve their time. The Shawshank Redemption of booze.

Christina found us a table and we sat and watched Cyndi Lauper perform, in between me standing in line for drinks and shrimp and stuff. (I tried to get dessert for us , but man, theytore up the dessert table. There was like a slice of melon left.) I have no problem with her music, the older gentleman bussing our tables surely did. “50th anniversary and the best they could get is her? She only had that one song! They should cut the power off.” It was mean, but I laughed anyway because I am mean.

And finally, after Cyndi Lauper forced the crowd to sing “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” with her for 10 minutes, we went home. We did get a goody bag, full of hair and skin products. The hairspray is pretty good!

So that was the Grammys! Me and Christina agreed that the pre-telecast was the more interesting event in the long run. Because really, Koko Taylor vs. Fergie, who would you choose? Still it was all-around a really fun experience. Worth getting a wig for!

Part Two: The Big Show

After the laid-back sincerity of the pre-telecast, it was on to the televised show, which is high on glamor.

I guess. We would not know firsthand because we were in the nose-bleediest of nosebleed sections. All the celebrities on the ground floor were little colorful dots. Christina had binoculars, and gave regular updates on the floor activity to me and the other nearby plebs throughout the show. “Fergie is talking to Clive Davis!” “Chris Brown is texting someone!” “Brad Paisley is leaving!” A woman beside us kept asking about people from American Idol. “Is that Randy Jackson in the black and white jacket?” Answer: No. I want to say it was, like, Seal or something.

Attendees do get a cool program book and since it is the Staples Center, there are concessions. It was funny to see all the people in their black-tie
finery, kicking back eating giant pretzels and drinking MGD, just like if it was a WWE event or a Nickelback concert.

One of the things I found really interesting was what happens before the show and during the commercial breaks, the point where I would get up and make a sandwich or talk to someone or watch something on You Tube. The answer? Not much really. This year, they showed clips of Grammy performances in previous years. And then the producer tells everyone to sit down and shut up and clap for the next performance. Those celebrities are the worst about not sitting down. Sit down Fergie! Stop talking to people!

I think it says a lot of the state of the music industry when the pre-telecast opener – a zydeco band that brought down the house – was livelier than the telecast opener. I do not think anyone asked for an Alicia Keys/Frank Sinatra-beyond-the-grave duet. Actually, I think it says more about the Grammy telecast producers. One of the really annoying recent trends of the Grammys (outside of the fact that they only give away 10 awards in 3 hours) is the whole “mashup” performance thing, which is novel, say the first time but then gets really irritating.

Take The Time for example. When The Time shows up, I am all “OMFG The Time! Yeah!!!!” Then out of nowhere …. “ella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh.” What? Huh? Who put Rihanna up in my The Time? And why?

Also, NARAS can’t seem to let go of the damn Beatles. I say this while currently listening to “Revolver.” But really, it’s like you cannot have a music award show without some Beatles wank, so let’s have at it. That and Cirque Du Soleil.

And then, because you cannot go a half-hour without Beyonce shoe-horning her way into everything, she shows up to announce Tina Turner and flail. A group of guys in back of us were, um, appreciative of Beyonce’s performance. Can you see my eyes rolling? I am sure you can. “I hope [Beyonce] lets Tina perform for a couple of minutes before she shows up again.” said Christina. She did. For a couple of minutes.

Not much else to say about her performance. Christina was underwhelmed, but consider the last time I saw a live performance of hers she was snorting a vial of coke out of her hair, I thought she did a good job. The dudes in back of us (the same guys hooting over Bouncy) seemed to be enamored of Amy and her crackhead antics. So lemme get this straight: you’re hot for Beyonce … and Amy Winehouse. Which is FAIL.

So… normally, I am one of the first people to complain about NARAS’ being about 3 decades behind the times, and giving album of the year to like Steely Dan or something. (I like Steely Dan! So don’t hit me.) But this year? This year was sweet. I do like Herbie Hancock for one, and his earlier graciousness really made me root for him. That and the fact that he delivered total pwnage to Kanye West’s doorstep! BWAH!

After album of the year, everyone in the Staples Center seemed to make a bee-line for the door. The producer of the show begged from loudspeaker: “Please sit down! Stay! We have one final performance!” It was really just a bunch of confetti and some performers dancing to Sgt. Pepper. Which was a WTF moment equal only to “professor” will.i.am’s Grammy rap and Jason Bateman’s inexplicable appearance earlier in the telecast.

Anyway, I suspect a good number of people were just eager to get their drink on at the official after-party next door. Which I will tell you about right … after this commercial break!

Part One: The Pre-Telecast

Unlike Tokyo, when I took, like, 500 pictures (not hyperbole) there will not be much visual documentation of this trip for me to share, because C. and I were scared off by the imposing sign in front of the Grammys ticket pick-up counter that warned “No Cameras! No Recording Devices! No Camera Phones!” And there was the airport-style security that made a point of it. Though we eventually did see people with cameras at the afterparty, but honestly, I did not want to risk my camera and my cheap phone, so whatever.

Anyway, our story begins – and ends – with a line, waiting in line to be more exact, because waiting in line is a big part of the Grammy experience, for all except a priviledged few. Shortly after we landed in LA, we headed over to the Staples Center and waited in line for our tickets. Pretty much everyone waits in line for their tickets, whether you are a nobody or a multiple Grammy award nominee.It seems unless you are a celebrity on the level of Prince, or at least Akon or whatever, it’s to the line for you, for at least an hour or so.

In front of us in line was a guy who was nominated for a song he produced for Mike, and the guy behind us was a guy who (I think) was nominated for a Latin Music category. He blithely compared the Grammys and its underappreciated cousin, the Latin Grammys. “This is the real deal. The Latin Grammys are nice, but they have low production values.” he sniffed,

The pre-telecast awards started at 1 p.m. so we got up early, we got ready and then arrived, I dunno, at 12 or something and then spent the next half hour or so either waiting in line or trying to figure out where we should be waiting in line. We baked in the sun for about 20 minutes, as the sounds of the Foo Fighters and Brad Paisely’s rehearsals drifted from a nearby stage.

Anyway, the pre-telecast is comparatively speaking, a small and un-sexy affair. C. and I sat in the front rows with no argument from anyone about not being nominees or official important people. The show was hosted by Patti Austin and Peter Frampton, which no offense to either of these fine artists, should tell you something. It’s not the kind of event where current A-listers are expected to show up. (Though they occasionally do.)

Patti Austin spent a lot of time cracking jokes at other people’s expense, singing randomly, making wise-ass comments. Kinda like me after a couple of drinks. (Come on, you all know!) Of course, this led me to believe that Patti was toasted. But after listening to her for awhile, I concluded that she was not drunk, it’s just her personality. She probably acts that way all the time, which is awesome. Maybe one day that will be me.

The ceremony itself went through about 100 awards in about 3 hours, which sounds tedious, and it is. But for a lot of these folks, studio musicians, engineers, songwriters, the forgotten artists that keep the music industry going, this is their shining moment and you do feel the enthusiasm they bring to the event. They are not there to hog the spotlight by flinging their weaves around (a la Beyonce) or collect awards like Pokemon (a la Kanye) they were there to cheer on their peers and celebrate their achievements.

As for “celebrities” though, there were some of these too, but mostly at lot of semi-femous people that I guess I should have known, but didn’t. Like, who is Ledesi? I don’t know, but she’s really, really happy and really loud. She performed and it was like HEY HOW YA FEELIN EVERYBODY YEAHHHHH!1!!1!!1 YA FEELIN GOOD!?!?

Yeah.

I was hoping for Queens of the Stone Age to show up, but they didn’t win, Foo Fighters did, and they were actually there to collect their award. I guess it would have been rude not to, considering they were practicing next door. And Tom Araya walked past us to accept Slayer’s award for Best Metal Performance so I got my wish. Hells Yeah! Dude is going quite gray. A few rows away from us was Herbie Hancock, all humility and grace, when he accepted his award.

So that was the pre-telecast, both C and I really enjoyed it. For all the talk of “music’s biggest night” I think the real music was on display here. That was awesome to be a part of. That and the pre-ceremony appetizers. And hearing the uptight award announcer guy say “Fitty-Cent” and sound really awkward.

Tomorrow: The Real Show Telecast.

We are back!

Stay tuned for a recap of brief sightings of celebrities like:

Foo Fighters!
Quincy Jones!
Herbie Hancock!
The back of Stevie Wonder’s Head!
Some dude from I Love New York 2!
Ashford and Simpson (in profile!)
Possibly Sebastian Bach!
Tom Araya! (!!!!)
Carrie Underwood!
Some dude who looked like he may be in My Chemical Romance!

Creating the Grammy look

Tonight, while killing time before the AWJ Chicago Annual Meeting, I bought the Most Awesome Dress Ever for the Grammys. Really, it fits my style perfectly, funky and unique and just a bit trampy looking, but not really, because it’s me.

I randomly bought a wig today. This wig is … very different for me. I am afraid of it. I don’t know why I bought it. It’s not a fright wig or anything, I just do not know if I am fabulous enough to pull it off. First off it’s light brown, and my hair is very black, almost blue-black and has never been any other color.

Secondly, it is asymmetrical, so it’s two very not-me looks in one. It looks awesome on the wig head. Om my own head, I look like someone different. And it’s weird. It’s like the “most extreme makeover ever!” episodes of America’s Next Top Model. But, I am willing to give it a try. Wigs can be powerful image changers and I wish to wield this power for myself. For, like, a day.

Speaking of the AWJ meeting, it was very cool, I’m excited to be on the board, Melody Spann-Cooper was an inspiring speaker, and the food was amazing.

edited to add: I hope Slayer will be at the Grammys. But they probably won’t be.

Pack your bags ya’ll, we’re going to Milan The Grammys!*

C., thanks to her AMPAS** Recording Academy membership (because she is connected like that), scored tickets to the Grammys. She asked if I wanted to go, I was like “hellz yeah!”. She got the tickets last month, so we are going in a couple of weeks. If you see a little afro-ed, probably sea-green dot in the balcony yes that will be me.

I have never been to L.A. before, so that will be an adventure in itself. It will also be an adventure as I am carted off to jail for punching Chad Kroeger in the groin if I encounter him in any way.

That being said, I have not been truly on the same page with the Grammy nominations, since, well… ever. They never like what I like. But that’s not the point. It’s the 50th anniversary, it will be a spectacle. If we are lucky, Amy Winehouse will be there coked out of her mind and I will totally live blog it.

My big thing now is actually making the effort of getting the zipper on that Betsey Johnson dress I got off ebay awhile back fixed. If I can’t, I will have to buy another dress.

I hope Josh Homme is there.

*Anyone get the reference? If you do, you should be embarrassed as I am for posting it in the first place.

** I went to bed, thinking “AMPAS? That’s totally not right”. But I was too lazy to get up and correct it.