The new location made an already overdone extravaganza feel several measures more lurid (“No one wants to go to that gross ass town,” an anonymous flack told Page Six earlier this week). This year, the Grammys were held at the MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas, a pandemic-related shift from their usual home in Los Angeles. “This is a concert where we’re giving out awards.” At last night’s Grammy Awards telecast, even the show’s host, Trevor Noah, seemed eager to put a few miles of road between the event and that cursed phrase, “awards show.” “Don’t even think of it as an awards show,” he offered. Never before has the phrase “In this economy?” felt more germane. In general, the ratings for these sorts of elaborate pageants have been bottoming out recently, which can be partially attributed to the tumult of the pandemic, but also feels indicative of some collective weariness-or just an increasing awareness of the vast and devastating divide between the way some people live and the way most people live. It’s not terribly surprising that the public’s appetite for televised awards shows in which moneyed and powerful people squeeze into gowns and cummerbunds and skinny sunglasses and metal-plated Balenciaga platform Crocs, and heartily congratulate each other is waning.
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