I remember staying up past my bedtime and waiting for these gods of music to perform and be acknowledged for their artistry. My mum always barged into the lounge, hands on her hips, telling me to get to bed. I never listened. I wanted to watch.

Now, except for the Grammys, I don’t bother.

Even though I don’t have bedtime, curfew or school the next day, the entire idea of an awards ceremony has become a mere show rather than artists receiving true accolades for great achievements in music.

This is true for most music awards.

Based on votes, sales and who knows who in the music industry, these awards have become a superfluous reason for one big overpriced a-list party.

Being popular isn’t a crime. In fact, it’s a sin not to acknowledge that an artist being popular is an achievement.

However, the entire awards culture has become a bit of a farce. It’s basically people who are perhaps tone-deaf voting for the hottest singer, or someone buying the album as a gift for a random friend who choose the artists who get recognised.

That’s just not cricket.

Music – just like any art – should be enjoyed by everyone, no doubt. But there should be some sort of governing body which sees over awards so that the people with music knowledge choose the winners.  

Else, it turns into a popularity contest, and which artist dresses best, has the best hairstyle or has the hottest booty comes before the music.

This is why I still appreciate the Grammys. It is a set of prestigious awards given by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. People in the know. People who can tell G minor from F sharp seventh suspended. People who know what music was, is and should be.

Sure enough, I’d cheer if my favourite band wins a random voted-for-by-the-public award, but it doesn’t have any merit to it.

Call me old fashioned, but I would like to be awarded a degree by a chancellor of a university instead of a first year.