Wednesday, 3 February 2016

Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow

In five decades at the top, David Bowie influenced and worked with some of the best, the most original, the most creative artists and musicians in the world.

So, who should possibly be chosen to do an appropriate tribute to him? Brian Eno? Bauhaus? Robert Fripp? Siouxsie? Bryan Ferry? Elton John? Queen? Brian Molko and Placebo? Amanda Lear? Annie Lennox? Iggy Pop? Mick Jagger? Marc Almond? Debbie Harry? Cher? Brett Anderson and Suede? Pet Shop Boys?

No. In their infinite wisdom the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences of the United States, organisers of the Grammys, have chosen Lady fucking GaGa - a woman that even Grace Jones wouldn't touch with a bargepole ("I’d prefer to work with someone who is more original and someone who is not copying me," was her verdict; shades of Bowie's own comment on Gary Numan) - to do (in their words) "a multisensory testament to the icon". How? He had talent. She's a caricaturist.

I would scream. If the Grammys were relevant.

Footnote: During his career, Bowie was nominated for 11 Grammys but only won once - when Jazzin' for Blue Jean was awarded best video in 1985.


  1. Not to worry; award shows have become nothing more than gag-inducing parades of self-absorbed sycophants, with the 'winners' rewarded for most asses kissed (which doesn't do much for the respectability of ass kissing).

    1. And, in the case of the Grammys, a parade of safe, middle-of-the-road "artistes" of limited talent or charisma. I mean, ffs, Sting has won sixteen times yet the Beatles only won 8... Says it all, really. Jx

    2. '...of limited talent or charisma.' You're a generous man.

      Best wishes for your holiday, Jon.


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