The Critical Curmudgeon

Let's talk about the Grammys. Not about Nikki Minaj's perplexing exorcism-reenactment, or Skrillex, or even Cee Lo's continued nefariousness. No, these are mere trivialities in comparison to the fact that the nebulous "musician" Chris Brown was given an award for the release of his album F.A.M.E.

It's critical that I elaborate what makes this so excruciatingly unacceptable. I have four contentions which I will do my best to explain.

Contention #1: This one's obvious. There is simply no valid reason to give a subjective award to a man whose most extensive media exposure is being found guilty of domestic abuse. No scenario exists in which you'd honestly be required to give Brown a Grammy, especially not in the presence of the very same woman he battered. Hell, there are some music icons who never got any, including Buddy Holly and Diana Ross. Brown's alleged "talent" is certainly a far cry from iconic, and it comes with the delightful additive of his being an absolute jerk. By what thought process does one conclude this guy deserves a return to celebrity? I'm all for second chances … actually, no I'm not. If you're a second-rate musician who beats his girlfriend and hardly apologizes, you can go straight to hell.

Contention #2: As a musician, Brown's music is obtuse and uninspired, with lyrics so insubstantial that they threaten to reverse the listener's gravitational pull. If you listen to this album and visualize anything other than a bloated chauvinist making aggressive, unrequited sexual advances on your eardrums, I need the drugs you were on.

Contention #3: Screw current R&B. Rhythm and blues has always been sort of an organized catch-all when it comes to classifying music: since the '50s, the genre has included an impractically wide array of artists, ranging from the Yardbirds' heavy blues to Chuck Berry's rockabilly. Prior to rock and roll, R&B essentially served as a catch-all for growing styles with roots in traditional African-American styles, namely gospel, blues, and funk.

Hip-hop is not and will never be R&B. It simply does not satisfy the fundamental prerequisites of blues. Rather than mislabel popular artists such as Cee Lo, Usher, and Beyonce as "R&B," a consensus needs to be reached in which these impotent tracks make their way into either of the existing "rap" or "dance" categories. Why was it necessary for these genres to come into being, if not to include music with pivotal elements of rap and dance? Had Brown, who is essentially only recognizable because of his dancing, been classified in the dance section with all the other acts that are completely devoid of R&B qualities, this conversation could've been avoided entirely.

Contention #4: At best, Mr. Brown ought to be considered a stagnant talent. There are certain talents that receive recognition for their immense potential, such as Adele, whose voice has such interesting timbre and resonance that it brings a noteworthy vigor to her lyrics. Her potential as a vocalist opens possibilities for bolder, riskier ingenuity as a songstress: exciting stuff, to be sure. At the other end of this spectrum, there is talent that is considered "timeless," such as Tony Bennett, who received several awards in recognition of his work cutting duets. His is a voice that established a standard, one that continues to inspire new, worthwhile material.

And then there is Brown, who has unflinchingly shoveled the same old rubbish out of his godforsaken studio for seven years now. To call this mediocrity extraordinaire a "one-trick pony" would be assuming that he actually has a trick. Dancing, maybe? Acting? Fisticuffs? Don't know, don't care. It just certainly isn't music.

I'm not sure what the Grammys are for anymore. All I know is, this shouldn't be it.