The Grammys' Award-Winning Moments

Which of the perverse telecast's random pairings was the looniest—Alicia Keys and dead Sinatra, Alicia Keys and half-dead John Mayer, or Carrie Underwood and the refugees from Stomp? I'll call it a tie—along with the tooth-achingly kitschy Beatles tribute and the three instrumentalists vying for a slot with Foo Fighters whether they wanted it or not. I did get a kick out of Rihanna singing "Please don't stop the music," especially when she lowered the mic and you somehow still heard ". . . the music." But why did they stick her with Jimmy Jam's old friends the Time for one more random pairing? Doesn't Rihanna deserve her own freakin' number already? Tina Turner didn't get one—they trotted out a wan Beyonce halfway through—but the diva was on fire, obviously thrilled that Ike had finally croaked. Meanwhile, Aretha has become Big Bird, Kanye has turned into Eric Clapton, and some of the other tributes were about as imaginative as singing "100 Bottles of Beer" on a road trip. (George Gershwin, anyone?)

But all pop-eyes were on Amy Winehouse to save the night once the very musical Cuba Gooding Jr. announced, "We didn't know if our next artist would be available." Yeah, because she's on major drugs! Well, whatever's in her bloodstream. Ames was absolutely fabulash—retro and future-facing all at once, with some real quirk appeal to counter all the fake weird people in music. She's a dope on dope, but she's totally dope, so kindly let her keep singing ". . .the music."

The most recent La Dolce Musto: "A Gay Senate Candidate Revealed!"


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