I watched the Grammys for the first time in decade. Kind of a going away present for television. We are ending the cable TV service this week in favor of a Business Class internet connection. Great bandwidth and no data cap. My kids and I prefer movies, and the kids prefer to Hulu and Netflix what shows they watch.

Watching the broadcast took me to a place I never expected to go. I tuned it in to be sure to hear the Bonnie Raitt/Alicia Keys tribute number to Etta James. Bonnie doesn't get much national TV time these days. I am also a fan of Adele's work and I expected she would have a good night. (She did.) Notice that my reasons to watch were firmly rooted in the Baby Boomer universe. Whenever the band would come on the late night shows, if it was an act I hadn't heard of I was usually not taken with their level of talent. So I had become really out of it when it came to newer bands.

But I found myself very attracted to a lot of of new stuff in the show. I liked Katy Perry. Loved the Foo Fighters. In Old School, the Beach Boys number was fine, but in typical Grammys style they performed their biggest hit. I would have rather heard "I Get Around," their most exciting record IMHO. Semi Old School, style wise, I was pumped by "Rolling In The Deep." I knew the song well, having discovered her and this song on NPR (Tiny Desk Concert) a year ago. It was exhilarating to hear her fully recovered.

But my real awakening was the performance outside in the tent. The big hall is populated with members of the trade, the music business. They act like they are at a big awards show, which is only fair. But the tent was full of fans. Standing, not sitting. Moving, not still. Waiting for the best time they might have all year, every one of them. The contrast was startling. When we Baby Boomers go out to hear music, we are usually at sit down events. I never danced, never found it fun personally; I had forgotten in the last ten or fifteen years what it was like to be standing on a big floor in front of a bandstand, worshiping, participating, immersing myself in the moment with my body as well as my ears.

NOW I understand the siren call of newer forms of music. They do suck as something to turn down the lights, sit down and listen to. Dance music always has. But experienced this way, the way intended, even vicariously on HDTV, they are something the Old School artists usually are not. Exciting. In the tent, DJ David Guetta led off, was joined by R & B performer Chris Brown and rapper Lil Wayne. It was only the second time in my life I had enjoyed any exposure to Rap. I liked Chris Brown's music. I finally got the DJ thing. He was constantly challenging the audience to have as much fun as he was, and it worked. He IS a musician; his instrument is not Old School, that's all. Then, my very favorite part. The cameras and attention turned to the opposite end of the tent. There were two cloth covered cubes , side by side. The Foo Fighters (who won five out of their six nominations, bested only by Adele in the sixth) ripped a number, just ripped it. They are the equal of any Classic Rock group in their prime as far as I am concerned. Near the end of the song, the lights changed from blinding white to deep red and the second cube's curtain fell to reveal Deadmau5. This guy does not come from DJ. He is something else all together. Part electronic musician, part performance artist, part DJ and part collaborator. His fans were as intense as Juggalos. I have never seen people so high on someone else since the Beatles landed in New York. It was incredible that the two completely different forms of music seamlessly occupied the same space and time in harmony with each other. That takes talent. A ton of it. It wasn't a trick or a setup thing. They were that good. It was like Dorit Chrylser playing Theremin in a rock band at a European festival. It just worked.

Well guess what. If I could I would go to see all these guys live. I am astonished because I am so used to reacting like the Baby Boomer I am (64 years old) towards "young people's music." The sad part is that this is all a young person's game and I don't belong at these events. I have two bad knees and don't breathe well enough any more to participate at any level that would blend in. My twenty year old son says he dies after five minutes at a rave. All I can do is sit and regret the years I passed ignorant judgement on the scenes that came along after mine. At least I've jumped off of my ivory tower. I should have remembered what it was like. The great concerts and clubs in the Sixties experiencing the likes of Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac, Michael Bloomfield, The Velvet Underground, Ian & Sylvia, The Stones, scores of others. I remember the music but forgot the live experience of being in the middle of it. One thing I never forgot was The Pretenders bursting fully developed onto the scene. I should have realized that the purpose, the grammar, the payoff of pop music had changed, evolved into something else, something new.

It happens every generation I guess, but I feel like I am alive again in a sense that I have not been for a long time. Maybe I get a second chance after all to stop being stuck in time. I have always been alive and appreciative of the music and everything else I like. But now, after a long semi slumber, I am awake.

PS I couldn't get into the Whitney Houston thing because I never enjoyed any of the things she did with her awesome voice. That kind of pop music is just too straight for my brain. It's like Richard Nixon. Also, she threw her life away as surely as she threw her talent away, and while sad I can't respect that.

But when the lengthy segment chronicling the passing of everyone else in the business we lost in the last year gave a special mention to Milton Babbitt, it was nice to see that the old folks in charge had recognized the most significant of the bunch. That was the Old School moment I enjoyed most.

http://perezhilton.com/2012-02-13-th...=#.Tzpm1fmcdzo