I made the mistake of watching the American Music Awards. Maybe it was the sound guy, who should have been fired, if in fact he was responsible for the sound on the show. Maybe it was the cable feed or our non-flat screen TV. Maybe it was just that I'm just too old to watch these shows anymore.
I've become my mother: "Turn down that noise!"
The show seemed to be divided in half: people I had NO idea who they were or folks I knew and I was sorry to see where they were in their career. Which only made me feel older.
Janet, while kicking ass and working like a dog on that stage! But she lipsync'd her way through a medley of her hits. It hurts me to see her fall prey to the "fake mic" movement.
Lady GaGa - FA-Reak of nature! I have no idea if she sings well, cuz I was too busy wondering if her costume was put together the same why I built my corpse for Halloween this year.
We fast forwarded through the one that caused us to say, "Who the HELL is that??" So I don't even know if they sang well. I'm old and grumpy. I can't waste time trying to wait to find out.
And since the entertainers I like sounded like ass....why bother with the ones I didn't know.
Whitney....oh dear, dear Whitney. I haven't liked you since "Be My Baby Tonight". You kooky, cracked out, has been. She was trying. She at least was really singing. The problem seemed to be that the band was playing one thing and she was singing another. I could be wrong, but there wasn't much proof otherwise.
J-Lo's routine was tight and fun, but she was fake mic'n it TOO! (and she stepped on a sweaty guy and slipped...but that big ol backside of hers acted like a bumper and popped her right back up on her feet!)
I was waiting for Adam....the Lambert! The showman with the wink and the nod. They were teasing it his routine going into the breaks: edgy, radical, racy.
Looking past the terrible sound, which haunted every singer that night, his was a walk through a sex den, made up of his band and dancers, on stage!
I'm no prude. Believe me!
But really....it was too much! Simulated blow jobs, tongue probing make out sessions, crotch grabbing, and what he wasn't grabbing there was a face going into it. And then the last note...you don't have to end every song on a tongue-draggin'-on-the-floor note that goes on well after the music stops. It makes it awkward for us watching. We start asking, "Doesn't he hear the music is over? He's just wailing with his tongue hanging out in the air like that."
I was uncomfortable.
In the shot of the audience, they were all on their feet. But it seemed more like they all were trying to leave to beat the LA traffic and someone locked the doors, rather than a possible standing ovation in the making.
I hate to admit I'm too old. I hated when my mom didn't get The Go-Go's. Couldn't she see the genius behind them? They could kick Peter, Paul and Mary's butt any day of the week. As times change, now I have a feeling that the Three 6 Mafia could gun down The Go-Go's and use their skulls for smoking crack.
The evolution of music isn't pretty. And getting old ain't no fun. I'll stick to my greatest hits albums.
Yes...I said 'ALBUMS'!!
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