In the wake of the devastating Southern California wildfires that raged for weeks, causing 29 documented deaths and the ruin of well over 16,000 structures—not to mention the immediate fallout of this second Trump administration—the prospect of a major awards show bordered on inappropriate. Why indulge in a celebration of a widening economic divide? Would delaying the 67th GRAMMYs ceremony be more respectful, or would putting off a widely viewed awards show waste a valuable opportunity to raise money for the wildfires’ victims? These horrific fires reached containment only a day before music’s big night. Could the GRAMMYs, who have a complicated history of being out of touch, balance celebratory opulence and grief?
Oddly enough, the unsettling climate catastrophe was an equalizing catalyst to emphasize community. The Recording Academy used their big television slot to raise money for the thousands of people that are suffering in the wake of wildfire devastation, while highlighting the love for and among LA.
The 67th GRAMMY Awards immediately addressed the city’s widespread loss. Instead of opening the ceremony with one of the past year’s trailblazing hitmakers, LA’s own Griffin and Taylor Goldsmith of the rock group Dawes, who both lost their homes in Altadena in the Eaton fire, led Sheryl Crow, St. Vincent, Brittany Howard, John Legend, and Brad Paisley in a supergroup tribute to Los Angeles with an updated version of Randy Newman’s “I Love L.A.” (the lyric “Look at that bum over there, man / He's down on his knees,” for example, was changed to “Look at this city getting back up off its knees”) in a successful attempt to find the right note to bring people together.
It was a thoughtful tone that carried through the evening. That performance was followed by siblings and LA natives Billie Eilish and FINNEAS performing “Birds of a Feather” in front of a backdrop of the San Gabriel Mountains and Eaton Canyon, paying tribute to the Altadena Community. With mounds of rock and greenery on stage, it felt like the two were basking in the sun mid-hike rather than performing in front of thousands in an arena. Childhood photos flashed in the background, making it seem like a memorial for a former life. It was a prescient reminder of the natural beauty we take for granted everyday. Our circumstances can change in the blink of an eye, leaving us with only the proof of sentimental photographs to recall our past.
The night continued with a sense of hope, strength, and focus on rebuilding. Trevor Noah, who mostly continued his streak as a thoughtful and moderately sarcastic host, reminded us throughout the evening that this was a fundraising show. A QR code was available all over the arena, as well as at the bottom of our screens, ready for our donations. During commercial breaks, local businesses impacted by the fires were given air time alongside stars like Doja Cat, Anderson .Paak, and Avril Lavigne. These were only a handful of the thousands of businesses rebuilding in the wake of ruin. Palisades skate shop Paliskates and Altadena cultural center and Black-owned business Rhythms of the Village brought to light the creative communities that keep a city like Los Angeles alive. These are the people and stories behind the skeletons of storefronts.
As a larger institution, the GRAMMYs have always been in a power struggle with the extraordinary creative stories that fuel it as a money-making machine. Remarkably, the spotlight on reconstructing Los Angeles and fortifying these vital pockets of the city was inspiring. Small fractures in this fragile framing began to form only when Noah was obliged to shout out several major corporations that contributed generous donations with the purpose of a convenient brand name drop on live TV during the broadcast.
Outside of fundraising, there were majorly wholesome vibes from all generations of artists reiterating the fight for self-acceptance and human rights. “You are exactly who you need to be to be right where you are,” Tampa rapper Doechii said when accepting her GRAMMY win for Best Rap Album. Following in the footsteps of Cardi B and Lauryn Hill as the third woman to win the accolade since its 1989 introduction, she also denounced sexism and racism. In her acceptance speech for Best New Artist, Chappell Roan spoke out against exploitation of young artists. “Record labels need to treat their artists as valuable employees with a livable wage and health insurance and protection,” she said, wearing a giant princess hat. “Labels, we got you—but do you got us?” Mother monster Lady Gaga also acknowledged the bigotry presently at large in the US as the trans and queer community has come under brutal attack at the hands of the current far right administration. “Trans people are not invisible. Trans people deserve love. The queer community deserves to be lifted up.”
These were only a few of the many humanizing GRAMMY moments. Toward the end of the program, the night shifted from lifting up a new generation of artists to making amends with artists who’ve been burned. Even the most tonedeaf moments—The Weeknd returned to the award show after years of justly critiquing it with a performance to promote his new album, the jump scare of a Yeezy ad, seeing the MasterCard support following a stunning new Lady Gaga single and music video—would not derail the night’s optimism and joy. And The Weeknd wasn’t the only GRAMMY beef that was squashed: Charli XCX partied on the stage she threatened to destroy last year, Kendrick swept with his silencing single, and Beyoncé finally won Album of the Year. Fittingly, the Recording Academy invited members of the Los Angeles Fire Department to present the evening’s biggest award to Beyoncé, entering the stage to a standing ovation.
Egos were indulged and tamed. White flags were waved. Maybe it was that massive Quincy Jones tribute, with Janelle Monáe moonwalking to glory, that had everyone feeling good and singing along together. Or maybe with everything that’s been at stake recently, it felt refreshing to see so many powerful people in one room with their heads screwed on straight. At a time when it feels like the world is exponentially regressing, Music’s Biggest Night played out with music’s biggest figures paying attention to everything that actually mattered.
