Sunday, February 25, 2007 Covington: No chicks they By Gary Covington Looking In
THE Dixie Chicks that is. The lady country music trio who cleaned up at the other week's Grammy awards, taking home five trophies.
I'm not being sarcastic. What struck me about this year's Grammys, apart from the quality of the music and more of that later, was the age of the winners. By the usual yardstick of pop people making it big -- as seen every day on Star Patrol and in the press -- this bunch of winners was positively old.
The Dixie Chicks for example -- who won from Best Country Performance to Best Record and everything else between -- are three moms with families and so they look; reliable, comfortable, neighborly. One of them even has the nerve to be on the short side and stocky with it. None of your willowy pouting warblers barely out of their teens here.
Or Mary J. Blige, no spring chicken, who won the Best R & B Album Grammy and showed us with a stunning performance what rhythm & blues is really about. She's been in the business for ages, totting up experience and years, but only lately coming to the attention of the Grammy voters.
The Grammy for Best Pop Collaboration with Vocals -- a long-winded way of saying duets -- was won by Stevie Wonder singing along with Tony Bennett. How old can you get? Bennett, he who lost his heart in San Francisco, is 80!
There was a couple of hiccups in the oldies parade. Justin Timberlake (wasn't he in a boy band at one time?) faffed about with a hand-held camera fitted with a fish-eye lens which was not the wisest of moves; coming over as a cheesy colored face with his nose taking up most of the screen. Then there was singer/guitarist John Mayer. I at first thought the emcee was introducing John Mayall and sat up expecting a blast from the past but no, John came on like a wannabe Clapton -- sorry John -- you know, emoting; scrunching his eyes, wagging his head, feeling the vibes man.
Towards the end of the evening the Grammys laid on their usual tribute and, as usual, fluffed it. They who suffered the fluff this year were the Eagles, one of the best live bands around at the time, and woe, woe, woe, Don Henley, Eagles drummer and leader, was in the audience.
The chief culprits were country band Rascal Flatts who served up Hotel California and Life in the Fast Lane with about as much zest as -- well, with no zest at all. It was awful. A disgrace. The camera, noticeably, didn't dare pan over to Don Henley who was probably weeping.
The quality? The Dixie Chicks, Mary J. Blige, Carrie Underwood, Corinne Bailey Rae -- a Brit with a beautiful voice -- and Gnarls Barkley.
Isn't that a wonderful name? Gnarls won two Grammys and performed a song called Crazy and I couldn't label him at all. It was a great song -- original, catchy, fun -- I had him down as a God-botherer, a hosanna merchant, but no, I was miles off; Mr. Barkley won his trophies for Best Urban/Alternative performance and Best Alternative Music Album. We live and learn.
Biggest treats of the night came from more oldies -- a song each from Lionel Ritchie and Smoky Robinson (who is in his late sixties) and a reformed, one night only, Police performing that wonderful screamer Roxanne. See -- age and quality.
