The Slow And Painful Death Of Kanye West

Last night, the 2010 Grammy nominations were announced. The awards show continued to reward popularity over merit, evidence that the two have become increasingly mutually exclusive in the music world, or just showcasing what hacks the Grammy folks are.

Either way, I finished the Grammy noms concert special pretty irate. Yes, they had an hour-long concert special, just to prove how worthless the real show, two months away, would be.

Click title for the rest...



While the Grammy love awarded Taylor Swift, eight nods including Album, Record and Rong of the year (typo and it stays), was expected post Kanye-Gate, it was still revolting. Let’s be honest, Taylor Swift may be cute, and she may be the perfect victim, as shown in America’s mawkish rush to her defense after Kanye West stormed her VMA acceptance speech. But cute as she may be, she is mediocre. Her songs and her voice are bland, and she’s not that creative. And she’s definitely not worthy of an Album of the Year nomination, given the stellar works of Maxwell, Phoenix, U2, Kanye West and so many others over the past eligibility season.

I see in the coronation of Swift the end of merit in popular music. The quality of your product is secondary to your ability to sell it. Most of the Album of the Year contenders put out albums that were insanely popular and well-marketed, but none of them were universally thought to actually be, well, good. Beyonce released monster single after monster single from I Am... Sasha Fierce, but the album as a whole was disjointed and contrived. The Dave Matthews band put out another album with great ambience, but it lacked anything you’ll actually remember a few months from now. The Black Eyed Peas latest work was as silly and corny as all of their previous stuff, and I’ve already told you how I feel about Taylor Swift. Lady Gaga’s album, was utterly ubiquitous, yes, but extremely formulaic, and ultimately a flash in the pan. (No, she is NOT the new Madonna.)

That leaves us to the man the Grammy’s snubbed this year, Mr. West. His latest album, whether you like it or not, was visionary and groundbreaking. I have conflicted views about the work, but I understand his point thoughout the disc, and when FloRida’s lastest is up for Best Rap Album while 808’s and Heartbreak is not, you know something’s not right.

As nominations were submitted, those in the know said the mention of Kanye West to anyone on the committee prompted frowns and immediate scorn, all because of the Taylor Swift debacle. Gone was a reliance on the quality of Kanye’s work, or the lack thereof in Swift’s. The Grammy’s were exacting revenge, for a crime that wasn’t even criminal. Let’s face it -- celebrities get drunk and say stupid things, and it WAS the VMA’s, more variety show than awards ceremony.

So we end this decade with Kanye having released four of the most influential and progressive rap records of the decade. Probably the best quartet of albums, pound for pound, of any major artist of the last decade. His first three records were shut out of winning Album of the Year, when many thought at least two, if not all three should have won. And this year, the Grammy snub is even greater.

As music critics across the globe begin to sum up the last ten years in music, we are in great danger of forgetting the genius of West’s work, all because of one foolish stunt. His story is a highpoint in this decade of music. He saved hip-hop with The College Dropout, and brought an attention to detail, true musical curiosity and ingenuity back to a genre that sorely lacked it. VMA outburst or not, he deserves recognition for that, just as Tiger Woods is a great golfer whether he cheats or not. Just as Amy Winehouse’s Black To Black was stellar, whether she’s a crackhead or not. But instead of celebrating some of the best music to come out of the last decade, Kanye West’s one final chapter might make us forget the overarching genius of his entire book.

And in the meantime, a sheepishly cute 19 year old with a guitar and little else keeps us wrapped around her finger.

I’m off to sulk.