Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
I hate awards shows. I find them pretty much mindnumbingly boring, with not nearly enough to hold my attention and/or make fun of in between the endless commercial breaks and torturous speeches. Back in the day, I would force myself to watch the Tonys with my mom, only because we both liked theater and she liked to watch them for the musical performances. I go to Oscar parties because I like parties. I used to watch the Grammys because I worked in the rekkid bidness and knew I’d need to be a part of the next day’s endless raves and bitchfests. Don’t get me wrong, theater, film, and especially music, are three things that I enjoy, consume regularly, and am even somewhat passionate about. I just can’t be bothered with their annual festivals of autofellatio.
There are, of course, exceptions to every rule, and I will admit that often I do find reasons to be glad to have tuned in. These can take the form of events such as drunken acceptance speeches, political statements, live bloopers, and even the odd streaker. (Gotta love live television, especially when lots of alcohol—and in many cases heavy drugs—are involved.) Less often though, a highlight may actually consist of a truly well executed, memorable, and even, dare I say, inspiring moment. It’s rare, but perhaps its rarity makes it all the more special.
While killing some time on YouTube recently, I remembered one such moment, did a search, and lo and behold, found a video... I clicked the link hesitantly, fearing that maybe the moment lived more vibrantly in my memory and should just be left there, untarnished. I mean, what if it wasn’t as I remembered? What if it had not been able to withstand the passage of time? I’m not one to enter lightly into the superlative, but this was a moment that I’ve since remembered as one of the greatest Grammy moments of all time. (That I had seen, anyway.)
I’ve watched it several times now, and I can say with a great sigh of relief that it is just as powerful as I remembered.
It was the 2002 Grammy awards, the artist was Mary J. Blige, and the song was “No More Drama.” As she took the stage, I remember sitting there with my roommate and thinking, with a sigh of boredom, “Yeah, whatever. Ok, good. Let’s go.” What can I say. I’d never really considered myself a fan. I mean, I respected her as a “real” artist in an industry that was taking a turn toward the fake and the manufactured, and I did like some of her stuff, but that doesn’t mean I was looking forward to her performance. Plus, I thought the soap-opera piano riff sampled in “No More Drama” was kind of cheesy. But that’s just me.
She blew me away. I remember looking over at my roommate afterwards, and both of us just saying, “Wow.” I wished I could have rewound it right then and watched it again. The next day, around the water cooler at the record label where I worked, it was pretty much the highlight everyone was talking about. A truly phenomenal performance. This was why we all loved live music. This was why we all worked at a record label. Music. Pure and simple. A language that, when spoken well, has the ability to slash through whatever other bullshit is in the way, and just cut to the core.
Not everyone will ever agree on any particular performance (another one of the beautiful things about art—it impassions different people in different ways), but thanks to these here internets I’ve been able to go back a re-experience one that moved me at the time and still does today. All hail Mary J.
There are, of course, exceptions to every rule, and I will admit that often I do find reasons to be glad to have tuned in. These can take the form of events such as drunken acceptance speeches, political statements, live bloopers, and even the odd streaker. (Gotta love live television, especially when lots of alcohol—and in many cases heavy drugs—are involved.) Less often though, a highlight may actually consist of a truly well executed, memorable, and even, dare I say, inspiring moment. It’s rare, but perhaps its rarity makes it all the more special.
While killing some time on YouTube recently, I remembered one such moment, did a search, and lo and behold, found a video... I clicked the link hesitantly, fearing that maybe the moment lived more vibrantly in my memory and should just be left there, untarnished. I mean, what if it wasn’t as I remembered? What if it had not been able to withstand the passage of time? I’m not one to enter lightly into the superlative, but this was a moment that I’ve since remembered as one of the greatest Grammy moments of all time. (That I had seen, anyway.)
I’ve watched it several times now, and I can say with a great sigh of relief that it is just as powerful as I remembered.
It was the 2002 Grammy awards, the artist was Mary J. Blige, and the song was “No More Drama.” As she took the stage, I remember sitting there with my roommate and thinking, with a sigh of boredom, “Yeah, whatever. Ok, good. Let’s go.” What can I say. I’d never really considered myself a fan. I mean, I respected her as a “real” artist in an industry that was taking a turn toward the fake and the manufactured, and I did like some of her stuff, but that doesn’t mean I was looking forward to her performance. Plus, I thought the soap-opera piano riff sampled in “No More Drama” was kind of cheesy. But that’s just me.
She blew me away. I remember looking over at my roommate afterwards, and both of us just saying, “Wow.” I wished I could have rewound it right then and watched it again. The next day, around the water cooler at the record label where I worked, it was pretty much the highlight everyone was talking about. A truly phenomenal performance. This was why we all loved live music. This was why we all worked at a record label. Music. Pure and simple. A language that, when spoken well, has the ability to slash through whatever other bullshit is in the way, and just cut to the core.
Not everyone will ever agree on any particular performance (another one of the beautiful things about art—it impassions different people in different ways), but thanks to these here internets I’ve been able to go back a re-experience one that moved me at the time and still does today. All hail Mary J.
posted by P/O at 4/18/2006 01:10:00 PM
2 Comments:
I remember that performance, too, and how everyone was talking about it the next day. She sang the shit out of that song that night.
I'm right there with you. Totally remember it and was completely speechless. The hard part for me is that every time I see her perform now I want it to be like that. That intense. That personal.
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