The National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences has a small and proud membership of about thirteen thousand members worldwide. Every year we vote for what we consider exemplary work. This year, what I always enjoyed as a thoughtful pursuit, felt more like work -- frustrating work. I closed my 255 page Entry Guide with a sense of relief. The long, strange trip was over, and I was glad.

Record of The Year, possibly the most recognized category in the Grammy (TM) competition was the most frustrating. This category is scrutinized for many criteria. Unlike the made for TV award shows, the Grammys (TM) judge on how well constructed are production values to the form and meaning of the song; how well performed is the vocal? Is it over or understated; does it enhance the lyric; and how well does the entire piece represent its source, i.e. film, album, etc.? (And I bet you thought Record of the Year was supposed to be the biggest "schmaltziest" ballad that was wall-to-wall on the radio).

This year there seemed to be only one record standing glaringly -- mockingly out from the six-hundred thirty-four possible choices listed. It was Big, it was Schmaltzy, it was All Over the radio (it was even in heavy rotation on Radio Disney), oh, did I mention it's a ballad. I didn't want to cast a vote for this record, I hadn't liked it from first listening; but, after holding it up to the tests of the various criteria and carefully comparing it to the strongest possible competitors, I, reluctantly, wrote its number down on my nominating ballot.

Imagine, the competition -- Gospel, Rhythm & Blues, Rap, Hip-Hop, Rock, Country, Pop, Jazz, all vying for nomination. My other votes went to songs I liked better, but this is a record competition -- not a song contest. With so many genres in the mix -- a member needs to be extremely aware and open minded so fair decisions can be reached. Given the standards, I had to include it.

I asked myself who called who in the lofty, Ivory towers of the music moguls, arranging not to record certain divas until after specific release dates. Was I getting too jaded? Too paranoid? Had I watched too many X-Files? After all is said, how "orchestrated" is the music industry (Baby, Baby, I hear a symphony). If I considered this song to be too pretentious, too saccharine to be an example of the best a recording can be, and there was nothing else that could even approach it, what does that say about the state of the art? Are we doomed to a 1999 Grammy Awards Show in which every winning song comes from one of the three Prince of Egypt Albums?

Perhaps Steve Hochman, pop music writer and critic for the Los Angeles Times, comes closer to the point in his article published today (Dec.6, 1998), "Rock is so disparate, the audience is hard to reach, so soundtracks are King of sales." He writes that Madonna's Ray of Light Album, initially considered a flop, is now a hit with 2.5 million sales. Not since the early days of Rock and Roll was 2.5mil in sales considered a hit. Bonnie Raitt's Nick of Time sold 10 million units in 1989. That's a hit.

I met recently with an old friend who produces for M C A in Nashville. "Country isn't selling," he said, and he sounded scared. Well, anyone who's been listening knows that country isn't country, at least not by George Jones standards. We've got Shania Twain and her producer/husband Mutt Lange to thank for that. OOPS -- Sour Grapes!