Where’s my music?
A notice to the commercial recording industry of America; you can keep your junk food. This year, my house is Grammy-free (this has nothing to do with grandmothers, for those who are easily confused!). Moreover, it isn’t because we can’t receive the telecast, but because we are disinterested, to a man. I will let the woman speak for herself.
A second notice to the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation; you have failed, miserably, to meet your mandate this evening. I don’t know the reason (sometimes, your actions visibly lack reason, but that’s a different debate), but you have chosen to ignore the most vibrant musical community in the nation. Tonight, the 2oth East Coast Music Awards group are enthusiastically presenting their award program, but only to those who are in Fredericton. I am not. I’m missing a fraction of Runrig.
Instead, you have decided to schedule something entitled Monarchy: The Royal Family At Work. For the record, this is an oxymoron. I am We are not amused. There, I hope I’ve corrected the grammar on my previous sentence, to fit the occasion.
Were you afraid that you couldn’t upstage the Grammys with a real award show, made in Canada? I have a series of videocassettes (many, many previous telecasts) that prove you could have done justice to the concept. Instead, it is rumoured that you will present a “best of” broadcast sometime in future. Word to the genius class; the ECMA is “best of”. Period. And for those who believe that the CBC is a Canadian network, with a certain amount of CanCon – the show qualified. The Queen and her brood don’t qualify. I am We are really not amused.
You now have a full year to beg my forgiveness and to prepare for the 21st ECMA, coming from Corner Brook. I’ll be waiting.
