I never thought I’d like the Grammys because the mainstream is so passé.

Except I did. Or rather, I didn’t loathe them. Which is saying a lot given how predictably simple it is to bash the biggest night in popular music.

The thing is, if you have seen more than two years worth of these awards and you still get upset when Kelly Clarkson’s “Breakaway” wins Best Pop Vocal Album – it’s your own fault. People who complain yearly about the nominees are the same people who dislike a movie, but get angry and act surprised when they hate its numerous sequels. They are the same people who are lactose intolerant, but order ice cream in hopes that this time wont be so bad. And they are the same people who go back to their exes continually. Some people will never learn.

This year the Grammys were what they have been for the award’s 48-year history. Each February the Recording Academy honors the biggest names in contemporary music – and that’s exactly what happened.

These aren’t the Plug Awards with performers like Sleater-Kinney, Bloc Party, Spoon and Sufjan Stevens; nor are they Mercury Prize shortlist nominees such as M.I.A., Hard-fi and Kaiser Chiefs. The Grammys don’t reward expansive, forward thinking. The brightest and most progressive minds in music rarely show up on this red carpet. Instead the Academy honors commercial success – not critical. But what makes the rock snob’s hatred for this ceremony so baffling, is that nobody – not the promoters, the artists or those in attendance – claim to do anything but honor commercial success. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise when Maroon 5, Maria Carey and Bruce Springsteen walk away winners.

Yet it never fails, that in the weeks preceding the ceremony and the few days after, every Converse All-Stars wearing circle of elitist friends feels the need to act appalled – like these people are somehow personally offended that Deerhoof, the Fiery Furnaces and Devendra Banhart weren’t nominated.

The show’s tagline is “Music’s brightest night,” and this year’s rallying cry was “the Superbowl of award shows.” The difference is the Superbowl has no choice who attends. The NFL is forced to tailor its festivities around major market teams like Chicago and New England the same way as Seattle and Arizona, then sit back and hope for ratings. The Grammys, however, pick and choose who attends – and who wins – and never loses sight of good ole Nielson.

But because condemning the ceremony and its list of nominees, presenters and performers is so easy, when things do shy away from terrible and critical darlings pick up awards, it is written off as a fluke and forgotten without registering a blip on the hipster radar.

This year’s awards saw Green Day, U2, Gorillaz, Chemical Brothers, System of a Down, The White Stripes, Kanye West and the Black Eyed Peas all pick up trophies. And yes, these aren’t the best choices eligible for the 2006 honors, but they are far from the worst. They aren’t the Troubled Hubbles, New Pornographers and Commons of the last year, but they certainly aren’t Fall Out Boy and R.Kelly either.

Which, in a nutshell, is the purpose of the Grammys. They represent the very music the voters cherish – safe, middle of the road artists in no danger of offending or boring too many people. I wrote a column two years ago in which I said, “Want to win a Grammy? Sell lots of records, die shortly before the award ceremony or do a duet (regardless its quality) with somebody the public wouldn’t expect.” I still feel this way, but have come to grips with the fact it’s no big secret.

The College Dropouts, American Idiots and Ordinary People of the world have figured it out, why can’t the tight jeaned, horn-rimmed recluses do the same.

Daily Herald BEEP, Feb. 10, 2006