Fate dictates that the proudly fat-assed, Australian hip-hopping white girl Iggy Azalea will take home the coveted-by-no-one Best Rap Album trophy at the upcoming Grammy Awards.
The nominations were announced earlier today and it’s created quite the stir in the rap community. Okay, maybe not the rap community, but like whatever you call the people who claim to care about this stuff and spend all day writing little blurbs about it on websites.
In my opinion, it does seem kind of silly to have awards like the Grammys, that whether out of touch or not, are nominated and given out by strangers under dubious authority. If it’s June and I want to know what the best “rap album” currently is, I don’t know how to go about contacting the board of Grammys and finding out what they’re thinking at the moment. Instead I’ll just go on Twitter and find out what @dicksquirts456 thinks. Waiting all year to discover what a faceless entity of musical justice proclaims to be decent seems as inefficient to my listening habits as it would to any sensibilities of taste I may have.
While I haven’t put much effort at all into trying to decipher exactly why anyone would care if Iggy Azalea is considered a great rapper by a secret conglomerate of old people, I can only assume it’s because she’s more of a white pop star and sex symbol, you know like Eminem, than a black guy who can legally get away with rhyming ‘trigger’ and the n-word as much as he wants. To be fair, she’s probably banged a lot of angry black guys, so she’s got that going for her.
The point is, she’s going to win. I don’t need to have heard any of her songs to know that much. Expecting the Grammys to be the arbiter of what you consider musical honour is kind of like letting your Grade 7 music teacher smoke in class while conducting “Hang On Sloopy”. Okay, actually it’s nothing like that, I just didn’t know how to finish that comparison. Sorry.