She arrives in an egg. She has pointy shoulders and some sort of My Fair Lady hat. She dances like the wind and it’s slightly uncomfortable for everyone. Sorry, I’m being a drag. Just be a queen, Courtney. Just be a queen.
Some country music. Whatever.
Lenny Kravitz is still hot.
Muse hates money. But loves fire.
Bruno Mars, BoB and Janelle Monae perform. We learn that monocles are the eyewear choice of 2011 and hair height is directly proportional to talent. Janelle Monae resembles a flight attendant, which is beneficial for the audience because at least now they’ll know where the emergency exits are located.
Hey Grammys, 1998 called and wants its graphics back.[image-1]
The Bieb and Ursher hit the stage. Mr. R-A…Y-M…O-N-D gives Justin some sort of pep talk before the performance. It was classy of him to resist the “go get ‘em, tiger” butt pat on national television. Okay. So. Ninjas. They’re so musically inclined! Who knew? Never say never, Courtney. Never say never. Jaden Smith joins the party. Then we have yet another back-to-back ending pose. Let’s retire that one, shall we?
Gaga wins Best Pop Vocal performance for “Bad Romance.” Her ass would like to thank her breasts. Which would like to thank those things in her face. Which would like to thank Whitney Houston.
Mumford and Sons rules.
Bob Dylan. Shouting. Lots of stringed instruments.
More country.
Cee Lo Green performs “The Song Also Known As ‘Forget You’.” It’s awesome AND it probably would’ve made Jim Henson shit his forgettin’ britches. Gwyneth Paltrow joins.
Alright, so Katy Perry. You know, ever since Britney went bat-shit, we’ve really had a lack of female vocalists performing via swing — so thanks, KP, for filling that void.
John Mayer looks like Johnny Depp, but he, Norah Jones and Keith Urban do Dolly Parton some justice singing “Jolene.” Dolly definitely deserves a Lifetime Achievement Award. [Enter boob joke of choice.]
Lady Antebellum wins Song of the Year with “Need You Now.” Although I do respect them as artists, I thought some other people were forgettin’ robbed.
Eminem performs and I have flashbacks to the previous night’s Saturday Night Live. “KNIFE!” Eminem really is the man.
Esperanza Spalding wins Best New Artist. A collective “who the fuck is that?!” whisper washes over the crowd.
Mick Jagger makes a surprise appearance. It’s fun to watch skeletons dance in tight pants. Ke$ha must be so hot right now.
Barbra Streisand bores Justin Bieber fans.
Now it’s time to learn some things. See, I thought that Diddy was Diddy now. He’s not. He’s Puff Daddy again. I also thought that Rihanna finally learned her name so she could leave Ohnana alone. She didn’t. She still doesn’t know it. Poor Ohnana.
Lady Antebellum wins for Record of the Year. Over Cee Lo. And Jay-Z. Riiiight.
Arcade Fire, who I like a lot, perform while BMXers whiz by them with cameras on their heads. I lose my willingness to figure out what’s happening in this show at all. Then they win for Album of the Year with The Suburbs.
That’s pretty much it. So to recap, things that won this year are: stringed instruments, obscure artists, fire, pointy shoulders, tight pants and The Pinkett-Smith family. Things that lost were: Diddy’s identity, deserving artists and not Christina Aguilera’s weight.
Happy Black History Month, not Jennifer Hudson!
