Why are you such an uncool dad, Grammys?

When I think of the Grammys, I think of a specific 30 Rock episode. After being hired by Jack Donaghy (Alec Baldwin), P.I. Joe Boyle (Steve Buscemi) recalls a previous mission that took him inside a high school. It flashes back, and he is, all 50-something years, holding a skateboard and wearing a backwards hat. He approaches a group of teens.

“How do you do, fellow kids?” he greets.

Jack Boyle’s other alias could’ve been the Grammys, an award show thirsting for relevance in an industry that’s grown head and shoulders beyond them. Yes, Kendrick Lamar leads with 11 nominations this year (all hail), and true, Courtney Barnett is up for Best New Artist. (Also, fine: The Weeknd earned nods, too.) But where’s “Hotline Bling?” Where’s Rihanna’s “BBHMM?” How about Carly Rae Jepsen’s critically acclaimed sophomore album? FourFiveSeconds? Sleater-Kinney’s No Cities To Love? Beyonce’s 7/11? Hell, even One Direction didn’t earn farewell kudos. (Which is an egregious oversight when you think of how well anything they put out this year holds up against the likes of Ed Sheeran, evergreen Grammys Golden Boy.)

Lana Del Rey earned one nomination, Fetty Wap got passed over for Best New Artist, and Bieber’s gone AWOL. But never fear: Tony Bennett, Josh Groban, and Seth MacFarlane have all been graced with nominations for Best Traditional Pop Vocal Album.

Yikes.

This year, the Grammys have proven they’re truly the Uncool Dad™ of the music industry. They’re the guy who rifles through his kids’ iTunes collection and brings up the artists he hopes will endear him to them, at least a little, on the way to school. “I like that Weeknd fellow!” he says, casually turning Hotline Bling up in the family minivan. His children roll their eyes. “And what about that Taylor Swift?”

He gestures towards his daughter, wearing a Demi Lovato shirt, who shakes her head.

Since the Grammys first started in 1959, music has changed dramatically. Not only are most artists shying away from being defined strictly as “pop,” “rock,” and “alternative,” our own understanding of music has evolved too. Thanks to the advent of Napster circa Y2K, our relationship with music as shifted — as well as what we’ve come to expect from our favourite artists. Now, they drop albums without warning. And if planned, bonus and early-release tracks shower die-hard fans with material until the official album drops. (See: Justin Bieber and One Direction back in November.) While sales matter (and they always have and they always will because money is important), the artists who resonate the most with us boast a strong personal digital presence. The music industry’s no longer a mystery — now, you can talk to musicians through Twitter, Instagram, or whatever-else-the-hell-else app you want to use. And you’ll love them regardless of whether or not they’ve been validated with a Grammy.

But the Grammys, like the Uncool Dad, pretend nothing’s happened. They refuse to believe music’s grown up, and with it, consumers of music and the people who make it. They’re the Ministry of Magic, refusing to acknowledge the return of Voldemort, or they’re Steve Buscemi thinking that if he at least dresses the part, he’ll blend into the hip that defines a particular demographic. They pick favourites and cling to them mercilessly, hoping that showering certain artists with accolades will make them seem cool, too. Then, they retreat to what they’re comfortable with, content that they’ve done enough. Which we recognize, because at some point in our lives, we’ve done the same thing. Change is scary, and sometimes it takes baby steps.

To see artists like Kendrick Lamar, Courtney Barnett, and Jamie XX given nods for the work they’ve done prove that baby steps are important. (Although remember when Macklemore won for Best Rap Album and Best Rap Song over Kendrick back in 2014? Not even the Uncoolest of all dads saw that coming.) And obviously, not every musician we love can be given the accolades we think they deserve. But maybe the time has come to sit down music’s Uncool Dad and have a talk. Maybe, as music evolves, so do its awards. And with those changes, maybe we start to see the redefinition of categories, more attention paid to artists who don’t sell out stadiums, and work to create a landscape that reflects music in 2015, not music of 1995 and before.

Or maybe we accept the Grammys as the aging oligarch it is, pretend we can’t tell it’s wearing the same backwards hat everyone wore last year, and let it tell us how things were better when it was our age. Music is changing. Maybe it’s changing right out of needing awards like the Grammys, completely.

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