What if “Same Love” does win Song of the Year? How significant will it be? Will it really mean anything? I’m tempted to say it won’t be significant at all, because deep down I don’t think award shows (least of all the Grammys) ultimately shape how the history of art forms are remembered. That “Hey Ya!” didn’t win Record of the Year obviously hasn’t affected the love people have for it. (As much as I like “Clocks,” it probably won’t outlive “Lose Yourself” or “Crazy in Love,” either.) “Jesus Walks” is better regarded today than John Mayer’s “Daughters,” even though the latter beat the former for Song of the Year in 2005. Jay Z has as many Song of the Year nominations as Hoobastank, and yet Jay Z could pay to have the members of Hoobastank dropped into a South American rain forest and hunted like wild game by billionaires. This is as it should be. Awards never stick around as long as truly great music does.Steve Hyden from Grantland.com’s “Lies Grammy Told Us”
Today’s lesson: Grit and desire > stats and replay. And, everything > Miami Heat
The 2011 Finals, strangely, is the most metaphoric series in years, not because the Mavericks, or even Dirk, carry any inherent meaning, but because something must stand in opposition to Team Villain. The stats-and-replay revolution has freed sport of much of its weight and cleared the way for a more rational, genteel discussion, but the heroic song of Dirk versus the Heat — the one starring the blonde, bedraggled gunslinger and the three severely talented villains in black-and-red — has wormholed us all back to the 1950s, when every blade of grass on every field was idyllic, when every football game was won on abstractions such as “grit” and “desire,” when the outcome of a boxing match might tell something about ourselves and how we might get along.