I’ll be completely honest with you, I had absolutely no plans of the Billboard Music Awards even registering on my conscious this morning. On occasion, I’ll pull up the award results in the days following and snicker at media I’ve never consumed earning trophies for their supposed brilliance. A few awards will always carry some social significance – the Grammy, the Oscar, or the Emmy – and even a few performances have managed to carve out some space in my memory. For the most part, however, we’re thrown corporate fodder at a runtime well north of a Yankees/Red Sox game. By all means, count me out.
But last night, something changed. As I plowed through my usual Sunday routine (lying on the couch watching syndicated comedies until happy hour at the local sushi bar), I noticed Twitter’s gears were turning with a bit of added ferocity. As it turns out, last night delivered some moments of unintended hilarity, social justice and even musical intrigue (gasp).
Let’s start with Beibs. I’ve managed to live out most my 20’s without this kid even producing a blip on my radar. I don’t know his songs, his background, or his celebrity feuds. To be quite honest, he’s responsible for some moments of humor in my life – mostly due to his rabid army of twitter fans that tweet shit like this.
https://twitter.com/skywardbieber/status/229041167751340033
When I heard he was booed, I didn’t feel much of anything. Then I watched the video, and wanted to punt this little shithead into another stratosphere. I’m sure I was an arrogant prick at 19 too, but even Prince had to be rolling his eyes at this kids ego.
I’ll still hold my judgement for Beib’s music, because I refuse to become acquainted. I’m sure it’s contrived and brainless and all that, but as long as tweens are going to crumble at the mere thought of this kid’s dance moves, there’s a market to be exploited. That being said, I understand why it gets under the skin of some. Kid Rock, representing working man’s rock n’ roll (or something like that), decided to don the stage, coffee cup in hand, and tell it like it is.
Hardly a new critique of pop music, but a valid one. Kid Rock just wants what we all want. We want heart, soul and energy in our performances that used to categorize what it meant to be a rock star – even if the music wasn’t necessarily rock. If you can’t bust out some dance moves while singing, you didn’t log enough hours in front of your parents bedroom mirror, and therefore haven’t earned your stripes. If you want to deliver a truly gripping performance, you have to be ready to kick your audiences teeth in with your aura. Figuratively, of course. Right? Miguel?
Oh. My. God. You satisfied now, Kid Rock?
Both women are OK, but I have no idea how. From this point forward, the still somewhat obscure Miguel will probably be defined by his accidental assault on two audience members – which is a shame considering 2012’s Kaleidoscope Dream was one of my favorite albums of last year. But let’s look on the bright side….an endless stream of hilarious memes and parodies.
Oh internet, you never fail to deliver.
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