Before I let go...

Ayy yo,

It's your boy, Double Ayy, coming to you live from inside the after-after-after Grammy party here on the left coast.  Yeah things are not as star-studded as one might suspect.  That's due to what I think is a lack of actual talent within the music industry these days.  I mean, sure... Adele is aiight and with that torturous song from Hades and all - Rolling in the Deep; and Sir Paul McCartney is always available for a live Grammy performance or two if he's not busy giving half of his hard-earned fortune away to yet another gold-digging ex-wife in Ye Olde Divorce People's Court; but how come we have to have yet another British invasion of the US music scene, when it's been so done before (See The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who, Wham, etc...). 

Aren't there any little kids skipping school and practicizing inside a hot humid garage or warehouse somewhere, hoping to become the next Jackson 5, Osmond Family, or more up to date, Destiny's Child?  Aren't there a few near college-aged men and women somewhere walking around aimlessly, strumming on refurbished acoustic guitars or beating a pair of weather-worn drumsticks on the cafeteria tables of high schools across America dreaming of one day hearing their song on the internet (oops... I should've said mp3... Darn! I mean radio...) like Earth, Wind & Fire, Prince, or the Blues Travelers did?  Nope.  Instead what do we the listening audience get: that friggin' blue-flamed hairdo wearing trollop, Katy Perry, sining about a well-publisized break-up with British comedian, Russell Brand, and that "God, help her; I think the heffer is on crack - Nikki Minaj.

As I sit here in the back of the mildly-filled smoky room of the last venue to be associated with this years Grammy's, in my sharkskin powder blue tux, beige butterfly collar, and my monogrammed penny-loafers, each complete with two quarters (I got big feet so what?!), I can't help but harken back to the glorious days when good music was my life.  To hear something that you liked on the radio back then was rarely in short supply, because in order to make it onto the air in the first place in those days you had to have a little thing called talent. 

Time went on and as I matured, so did my tastes in music.  Country made me nauseatingly sick, Elvis-styled rock turned metal was loosing steam at a rapid pace due to video and Rap was quickly becoming king of the airwaves.  So much in fact, that we never realized that Rap single-handedly killed off the radio DJ, ultimately moving him or her to the bottom of the list of what we all tuned into our favorite radio stations to hear. As musical styles changed, so did the level of musical talent - for the worst.  Double-entendres; and Quick and witty reparte enclosed inside creativity gave way to Barnum & Bailey cirus-styled gimmicks in music that leaves us looking at Cee-Lo Green today wondering whether or not he knows that he's dressed like a gay space-age Vegas lounge act from the future - somewhere around 3079?  I mean, he's always sporting a pair of Super-sonicly dark Glaucoma sunglasses, so he may actually be blind.  Who knows? 
 
But as I pick at the last petal from my sweat beaten carnation, I'd be remiss if I didn't say a little sumpin' sumpin' about fellow NJ native, Whitney Houston, whose untimely passing this weekend left a void in all of our hearts nationwide only to be rivaled by yet another untimely passing -  Michael Jackson - a few years back. Some will remember Whitney best by the many records she made and the many songs that she sung.  Others will remember her best by the tabloid gossip and taudry rumors being spread around about her struggles with substance abuse.  However, I would like to remember her as that pretty little brown girl with the bold crystal-clear golden voice that clawed her way out of the inner-city, note by note and song by song.  Despite what doors may or may not have been held open for her being related to others who probably enjoyed fame prior to her, she gave us hope and promise that we didn't have to just settle for mediocre talent from our musical stars.  Whitney gave us what she had to give on stage whether she had it to give or not - truly believing in the "The show must go on" motto of showbiz  To say we'll miss you, Whitney, is merely an understatement of how we truly feel.  Rest in peace, Whitney!

Now let me grab my coat and hat, and hop on a plane outta here.  Hollywood makes my ballz itch.