Alicia Keys—I’m Not Feeling Ya
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I know I owe you an explanation for my absence… it’s coming. For now, I present a comedic interlude.
You graced the stage with a round of applause reserved for the goddess of pop. You are not the goddess of pop. Maybe at one time, Alicia, you were all that, but now you are all flat. In part, because your bra was not doing its job and you had an unflattering uni-boob, but more importantly, because you haven’t been doing your job by keeping us abreast of your work. Yes, I said that. I’m not suggesting the Grammys go hostless like the rest of the awards shows, but maybe topless would at least create interest and give me a reason not to press fast forward.
Let’s review… You sang lyrics to a song you wrote for the opening of the Grammys that you called “The Healing Song” — Billy Crystal style without the style, laughs, or theatrics. Billy never felt the need to insert himself in songs to draw attention to himself as you did. “I’m Alicia Keys to get you through it all. I’mma get you kind of used to hearing music you love.” Grrll, you be trippin’. These folks live music, they don’t need anything from you but to read from the cue cards because funny, insightful people wrote those for you. Stay in your lane. Can we stop with the pointing and, “Ya feel me on that.” “Ya feel me on that.” No. We don’t feel you because that would be rude, even though I appreciate your consent. Make us wanna feel ya, Alicia, if it is that important to you.
While watching, I thought of all the things you asserted. You talked about your phone call with Prince before you covered his song. Just cover your mouth and let Usher do his thang, please. He didn’t need words because the music spoke for him.
You told us the piano was your happy place. Yeah. We guessed that one since you only talked to us from behind said piano.
You told us you were an artist for the artists and elevated yourself above Beethoven.
Ah ha! Because you can’t hear yourself talking either. OK, now I get it.
Here is a list of the ten things I would like to hear you talk about at next year’s Grammys, should you be invited back. Though, I might be praying for someone to yell Bye, Alicia.
- Admit that your happy place is in front of the TV with a pet zebra and good porn. I could feel ya on that.
- Talk about your creative process. If it includes Ben & Jerry’s, crying, and a glass of wine, at least you will be relatable.
- World Peace. Seriously. That would be better than your higher-than-Snoop Dogg pious take on the US political climate.
- Tell me who dressed you, Ms. Keys? I’m not generally into the red-carpet love-fest, but your outfits are marginally Walmart, and I want to know who to mock.
- Tell me how many people it takes to get your hair to stay like that through all those costume changes and hot air surrounding you.
- Since you talked about calling Prince, tell us who is on your speed dial list, Alicia. Therapist, piano tuner, gigolo, Walmart? A girl needs to know.
- Do a math problem for us, maybe something including algebra and functions. Really show us that brain at work if you feel it is your job to teach us something. I’d even settle for long division.
- I know Billie Eilish is your sista and Lizzo is your sista, but do you have a real sister, and how does she feel about you claiming new family members on national TV?
- Enlighten us on who wrote Baby Shark and tell us if you have called them to ask to cover that gem?
- Talk about not hosting the Grammys again then maybe the audience will give you the standing ovation you seem to need. It worked for Ricky Gervais.
Alicia, your shtick is wearing thin, and your righteousness is narrow too. If you want to be Beethoven, consider his quote, “Music comes to me more readily than words.” Maybe you are like Beethoven. Stick with the music Alicia, we can feel ya on that.
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