When I set out to learn about my mother's bridge club, the Jewish octogenarians behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, their gen, and the ragged path that led me back to my mother.
Something I write about quite a lot in The Bridge Ladies is how the women have lost touch with popular culture and technology. I’m not exactly snarky, but it’s frustrating and sometimes sad to watch them sail away on their ice floe while the world passes by. And yet here I am watching the Grammy’s and I don’t really know who half he artists are and I’m sure that as I get older the ratio will tip the Malcolm Gladwell. Fuck. I don’t want to grow old if I can’t hold on. I’m going to bed after Adele.
Who is your last best?
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Betsy Lerner 
I guess I’m so out of touch I can’t grasp your question. You would, however, appreciate (if not enjoy) Courtney Barnett. She pens little gems, such as “Avant Gardener” and “Nobody Really Cares If You Don’t Go to the Party”. See what I mean?
I like it here on my ice flow, with my princess phone and after school Dark Shadows memories. I used to look like Adele and play the piano like Joanne Castle. Ice melts, so do we, get over it babe. Beats the alternative…I think.
Definitely beats the alternative.
Alabama Shakes. That woman knows how to light a fire. And she used to be a mail carrier. I don’t even know if she performed last night, but she was rocking in the audience and that was enough for me.
I liked Stevie Wonder because he can sing and have fun. The Eagles and Jackson Browne were … alright. Wait, these are all old guys. Hmmm. Well, The Weekend was a little boring, Little Big Town’s “Girl Crush” creeped me out and overall the whole show seemed rushed. I was glad Ed Sheeren won. I missed Lady GaGa, but from what my wife said I was better off in slumberland. And I heard Adele was a little off her game. It’s hard to judge on such a short ticket, though, when the performers haven’t hit their stride yet.
Well, I didn’t watch, although we’d said we would – then forgot. That’s a sign of old age, right?
My best last would have been Bruno Mars, Uptown Funk – although I have no idea if it was performed last night. That, or the David Bowie tribute by Lady Gaga, or Adele. Then again, Uptown Funk ought to be my best last as it reminds me of so many other songs I used to love to dance to during the funky 80’s, like some of the ones by The Gap Band, Morris Day and The Time. Three members from The Gap Band reached a settlement for 17% songwriting credit for UF since it closely resembled one of their tunes.
Danielle Eats The Sandwich.
I discovered her on HBO on a documentary about a forgotten Provincetown artist. I just love her voice.
I am a musical moron. Know what I like when I hear it, but can’t remember what band goes with what song. I saw The Beatles at Shea, but much of what has come after is a blur.
Betsy, do you really want to know who all today’s artists are (rap et al.) the way you once knew those of your youth? I don’t. And judging by the titles of your posts, I don’t think you do, either.
Thank you, Betsy.
You should have gone to bed before Adele. Yelling off pitch at the Grammy’s?I thought Gaga was the perfect choice for the Bowie in memoriam.
I’m not their target market anymore, and I’m okay with that.
Unfortunately, the piano mic fell inside the piano, which accounted for the awful out-of-tune jangling at the beginning of the song. I felt so bad for her, but I love how she handled it.
Since I’m musical, and since my daughter is in one of the world’s most brilliant band (http://www.legendsofetcetera.com), I tend to stay on top of the latest music. I listen to Hippocampus and Silversun Pickups and The Kills and just about whatever sounds good. Consequently, I’ve heard of Wolf Alice and Courtney Barnett and most of the people up for awards.
But fashion? Movies? TV? I haven’t even watched Breaking Bad. Shit, I never saw the first X-Files and never watched West Wing.
*bandS
I kind of like getting older and not giving a fuck. I’ve always had terrible taste and hate award shows on principle (all the pretty people, patting themselves on their pretty little backs), so I’m looking forward to reaching an age where my crankiness on the subject can be excused.
Last best? Royal Blood. Anyone who can liquefy the frozen reaches at this point, and I do so love a man getting angry on the drums.
Last best? Ever-changing, fickle artsy type that I am. Let’s hear it for the Postmodern Jukebox, and let’s hear some CCR, too.
Grammys? Didn’t watch the show. I was writing.
Don’t look now.