A rock ‘n’ roll dream come true

PAUL SAITOWITZ

Not to sound overly cocksure, but I was born to rock.

From an early age, I played in bands, and when I hear Led

Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love,” and my blood immediately starts

flowing from Jimmy Page’s “dada dada da” riff mixed with Robert

Plant’s howling vocals, I can feel that it’s my destiny.

Ask anyone who knows me, and they’ll tell you the same.

I’m also an incredible music geek. I can tell you that Charlie

Sexton really rounded out Bob Dylan’s live sound, and it’s a shame

that he left the touring act to go on to produce and work on other

projects. I can tell you that Brendan O’Brien’s work with Pearl Jam

has been amazing, especially considering he’s basically had to work

with a new drummer on each album. I can also tell you that without

Robert Johnson and Son House, there would be no rock ‘n’ roll.

Get the picture?

So when I had the opportunity to go to the 46th annual Grammy

Awards on Sunday night, I jumped at the chance. The White Stripes,

the Foo Fighters, Outkast, Coldplay and many more were scheduled to

perform. This was the chance of a lifetime.

When I got to the Staples Center, the limos, security guards,

tuxedos and plastic surgery were everywhere -- this was the real

deal. I passed through the security booth in my Men’s Wearhouse suit,

and then it was straight down the red carpet past the likes of KTLA’s

Sam Rubin, MTV and various other members of the paparazzi who make

their living covering worthless minutia such as what people are

wearing.

I have no problem with style, but how interesting is it to find

out who made Gwen Stefani’s outfit.

It was already starting to get to me -- this wasn’t about music,

this was about appearance. Of course, I did spend my fair share of

time gawking at the talent.

As I got to my seat, the show’s producer came out on the stage and

thanked all those involved for all their hard work and told the

audience that the show was scheduled to begin in just a few minutes.

Then the lights went out and ... could it be, no way! I heard the

beginning to Prince’s “Purple Rain,” and to my utter surprise and

glee, the man from Minnesota was on the stage. I could feel the goose

bumps going all the way up to my head. This was awesome! Just after

the second chorus, Beyonce Knowles’ voice was heard from off stage,

and then she was there finishing the song with him.

I like Beyonce as much as the next guy, but that was like bringing

in young artist Alexandra Nechita to finish a painting that was

started by Picasso. A total downer.

After that was the Beatles tribute by Dave Matthews, Sting, Vince

Gill and Pharrell Williams. Could there have been a more irrelevant

cast, sans Williams, to do this? How about nominees Jack White on

guitar, Andre 3000 from Outkast on bass and Dave Grohl on vocals?

There was a tribute to funk -- featuring Robert Randolph, George

Clinton and Outkast -- that was entertaining, but I felt a tribute to

Johnny Cash would have been much more appropriate.

There were some great moments, too. The White Stripes killed it.

Jack White’s guitar sounds like a hurricane spewing in the depths of

hell, and Meg White’s primal backbeat leaves just enough space for it

to blast through to your soul.

The Foo Fighters with jazz great Chick Corea on piano doing “Times

Like These” were tremendous. Who would have thought Grohl had so much

to give after Nirvana?

The Black Eyed Peas may have had the most inspiring set of the

night. Justin Timberlake proved he can play an instrument and really

rocked the house. Outkast in a green tepee was funny and lively.

After the Grammys, I was invited to an after-party hosted by EMI,

where I saw everyone from Perry Farrell and Ozzy Osbourne to Paris

Hilton and Courtney Love, but that part of the evening is not for

print.