I don’t usually watched the Grammy Awards, because I find the show grating and interminable, but I did tune in last night (on tape delay, to be sure).
Of course, the reason I actually watched this year was to see how they dealt with Whitney Houston’s sudden, if not shocking, passing on Saturday. On the whole, while they were obviously somewhat at a loss about how to deal with the subject, they did pretty well, with the highlight being Jennifer Hudson’s solid rendition of the aforementioned tune. Adele, for her part, seemed like a remarkably normal British person, which was a refreshing departure from the assembled jackassery.
With respect to Whitney Houston’s death, I probably don’t have much to add to the zillions of words being spilled on the subject, but that fantastic first album will forever say 1985 to me, when I was working in an East Side record store and we couldn’t keep the LP’s and tapes in stock.
She was an eye-opening talent, and a Jersey girl to boot. I’m also interested to see how Aretha Franklin, her godmother, handles this when we see her at Radio City on Friday (assuming she doesn’t — understandably — have to cancel). For now I’ll gloss over the fact that I blame Bobby Brown for all of this.
May she rest in peace.