In a sense, that problem still exists. Well, if you see it as a problem. I would argue that, as the saying goes, variety is the spice of life. The Academy does have categories for specific genres, but I think the idea is to highlight the albums that "made" a given year. Take the 60th ceremony, for example. You had two rap albums, two R&B albums, and a pop album. Three of those were among the year's best.
I would hope that ALL the nominees were among the year's best, otherwise someone's not doing their job!
In theory, yes. In practice, it's sometimes difficult to argue that every single nominee of a given year was among the best, especially in recent years. At the latest ceremony, one of the nominees was Post Malone. I don't want to suggest that Post Malone has no good songs in his catalog, and I know I said wouldn't complain about an album not getting nominated, but I find it hard to believe that his album was top-tier when there was a perfectly good Florence + the Machine album to nominate.
I think it's kind of refreshing and charming that they once gave serious consideration to classical recordings for Album of the Year. Looking back, it's also odd that a jazz pop soundtrack beat out three traditional pop albums and a classical record for the big award. No straight-up rock n' roll or country. Pity that they couldn't nominate an instrumental jazz album--where the real action was at the time--even if the Academy's idea of the best jazz album that year was Basie (later known as The Atomic Mr. Basie).
I know that you weren't going to get into albums that should've been nominated, but I just have to say about this one year, often hailed as one of the greatest in jazz history, the year of Kind of Blue and Take Five and Mingus Ah Um and The Shape of Jazz to Come and various interpretations of Porgy & Bess, it is insane that Henry Mancini and his Peter Gunn sequel was sort of the jazz stand-in for Album of the Year, and the Academy's pick for Best Jazz Performance was not any of those classics, but it was Jonah Jones/ I Dig Chicks! Yes, really. I guess the voters dug the cover.
I only know the Ray Charles album out of this bunch but I can' t see any of the others being more worthy.
Jazz Samba is a good record, and Getz won a Best Jazz Performance award that year for "Desafinado" from that album, although his album that actually won the big prize two years later is generally regarded as his best of the bossa nova years. There was a Best Rock n' Roll Recording award at the time, started with the 2nd Grammies in 1959, when Nat King Cole won the inaugural trophy. Ray Charles won the 1961 award for "Georgia On My Mind." Believe it or not, the Rock n' Roll winner at the 5th Grammies was "Alley Cat" by Bent Fabric.
Oh yeah, Take Five and Kind of Blue are classics. But the Academy can't nominate everyone, unfortunately.
6th Annual Grammy Awards - May 12, 1964 Barbra Streisand, The Barbra Streisand Album The Swingle Sisters, Bach’s Greatest Hits Andy Williams, Days of Wine and Roses and Other TV Requests Al Hirt, Honey in the Horn The Singing Nun, The Singing Nun Throughout the history of the Grammy Awards, you’ll find several artists whose debut albums were so successful that they won Album of the Year on their first try. Sometimes those artists go onto have long-lasting successful careers (see: Bob Newhart) and sometimes those artists only get fifteen minutes of fame (see: Vaughn Meader). Barbra Streisand, in case you’ve somehow never heard of her, belongs to the former category. And if you’re wondering “Who are The Swingle Sisters?” then you may be surprised which category fits the other nominees. The opening track of her debut album is a rendition of the classic torch song, Cry Me A River. Barbra’s an excellent singer, no debate about that, but unfortunately, she doesn’t sell the song as well as Julie London did. In Julie London’s version, you can hear in her voice how fed up she is with the man she’s talking/singing to and the music complements her. Neither Barbra nor the music conveys the required sense of agitation until about two thirds into the song when it turns into a sort of cabaret number, so it doesn’t really work for me. It’s weird because the rest of the album is a lot better. She sings other sentimental songs perfectly; her version of A Taste of Honey comes to mind. On less somber songs like My Honey's Lovin' Arms and Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?, she gets more theatrical and it’s actually kinda fun. Overall, this album is pretty solid. There’s not much to say about the other nominated albums. The Singing Nun was the English-language moniker of Jeanne-Paule Marie Deckers, singer-songwriter and member of the Dominican Order in her home country of Belgium. She’s better known as “Sœur Sourire,” or “Sister Smile.” Whatever you want to call her, her nominated album is a decent folk record. Honey in the Horn by jazz trumpeter Al Hirt is pretty good too. If you're like me and you’ve never heard of Andy Williams, Days of Wine and Roses and Other TV Requests will make you realize “Damn, this guy I’ve never heard of is a fantastic singer." Incidentally, Henry Mancini won three Grammys and an Oscar for his version of Days of Wine and Roses, but no such luck for Andy Williams. Finally, there’s Bach’s Greatest Hits, a collection of Johann Sebastian Bach compositions as performed by the French vocal group Swingle Sisters. This album won the group a Grammy for Best New Artist and yet I guarantee that for some of you, this will be the first you’ve heard of them. And it isn’t because the group was short-lived; they’re still around to this day, albeit having gone through a few name and lineup changes. This album is also pretty good. Again, there isn’t much to say about the albums this year. They’re all decent, but not enough for me to declare one of them the true winner.
Ha! Good one. Kind of a shame that the industry chose to push Al Hirt as a Face of Jazz at that time. I know that it got under Miles Davis' skin. When Downbeat played Hirt's Live at Carnegie Hall for him in a 1968 Blindfold Test, Miles responded: It's Al Hirt. I think he's a very good trumpet player. For anyone that feels that way, I guess he hits them. He's a good trumpet player, but that's some corny-ass sh-- he plays here. They want him to be fat and white and funny and talented, but he ain't. They want something that looks good on television; fat, with a beard, and jovial and jolly. He's like a white Uncle Tom. And he's a nice guy; it's a drag. You know, white folks made Negroes tom a long time ago by giving them money. To do this in front of some white people, to have that kind of personality, like him, it's tomming. I can't see why a guy like Al Hirt . . . I guess if he was thin he wouldn't do it. Harry James is a good trumpet player, and he never did tom or no sh-- like that. Harry had some feeling. For a guy to shake his unattractive body and think somebody thinks it's funny - it ain't funny, it's disgusting. He can't entertain me like that; he can entertain some corny ofays, but all the colored folks I know would say, "Oh, f---! I don't want to hear that!" Never one to pull his punches. That seemed to be eating at him for awhile. But, Al Hirt made commercial pop jazz, this time with some Nashville pros like Chet Atkins and Floyd Cramer, as well as The Anita Kerr Singers, and it sold to middle-aged white folks. Honey in the Horn had a hit single, "Java," and the album reached #3 on the Billboard chart. Grammy likes that. And they can't nominate everyone, right? I have a Swingle Singers comp called Anyone for Mozart, Bach, Handel, Vivaldi? Very pleasant! If the idea of jazz vocalese applied to classical music sounds appealing, that's a fine place to start. In a weak field, Streisand looks like the best choice. I like her Second and Third albums even better than the debut, but those early albums really are fun and not quite like anything else that had come before. You still can hear why she would've felt fresh and exciting to the traditional pop audience at the time.
7th Annual Grammy Awards - April 13, 1965 Stan Getz & João Gilberto, Getz/Gilberto Barbra Streisand, People Al Hirt, Cotton Candy Henry Mancini, The Pink Panther Various Artists, Funny Girl (Original Broadway Cast Recording) It’s kind of funny that the Beatles won Best New Artist this year, but didn't show up in this category. It's also kind of funny the only nominee this year who hadn’t been previously nominated in this category won for a collaboration with someone who had. We’ll start with him. You’ll remember saxophonist Stan Getz from fifth ceremony nominee Jazz Samba, a bossa nova record. Bossa nova (meaning “new trend” or “new wave”) was a fusion of jazz and samba, a Brazilian music genre with African origins. Bossa nova had already been popular in Brazil for a few years by the time Jazz Samba was released to American listeners. Arguably, the genre’s most seminal figure was the late João Gilberto, so after Jazz Samba, it makes sense that Getz would want to collaborate with the man credited with starting it all. And thus was born unto the world Getz/Gilberto, an album that was to bossa nova what Straight Outta Compton was to gangsta rap. This was the first non-American Album of the Year winner, and in total the album won four Grammys. I certainly won’t complain; this is really good. However, I read that Gilberto didn’t like the way Getz played, feeling that Getz’s harder approach to music contrasted with his preferred delicate style. Just listening to the album, though, you wouldn’t be able to tell that any such conflict ever took place. It was clearly short-lived anyway because Gilberto’s wife Astrud sings the English sections of The Girl from Ipanema and Corcovado, and Gilberto would never have worked with Getz again if Astrud thought Getz ruined those songs. In truth, Getz fits in wonderfully with Gilberto and his band. There was a point in Corcovado where I couldn’t tell if Getz was playing a low note or if Gilberto was singing in his lower register; that’s how well they work together. And now we come to the other nominees. Our old pal Henry Mancini returns with the soundtrack to the 1963 film The Pink Panther. Unsurprisingly, it’s good. Next is Al Hirt’s Cotton Candy. Like Honey in the Horn, this album features the Anita Kerr Singers. So if you enjoyed Honey in the Horn and want more, here you go. Finally, there’s Barbra Streisand, returning from her win the previous year with not one, but two albums. Unfortunately, like Frank Sinatra at the first ceremony, that didn’t help her chances. She was actually nominated in this category a total of six times after her first ceremony. That includes the two albums from this year: People and the original Broadway cast recording of Funny Girl. The song People actually appears on both albums, albeit with different instrumentation and lyrics. Both versions and albums are alright. I don’t have any complaints about Getz/Gilberto winning, though all of the other albums would’ve made decent picks too.
8th Annual Grammy Awards - March 15, 1966 Frank Sinatra, September of My Years Barbra Streisand, My Name is Barbra Eddy Arnold, My World The Beatles, Help! Various Artists, The Sound of Music Good news, everyone! Old Blue Eyes is back! And this time, he’s capitalizing on the “old” part. You see, Frank Sinatra released September of My Years two months before his 50th birthday, so in the same way that Come Fly with Me! was a concept album about traveling, September of My Years is a concept album about a midlife crisis. I assume Sinatra felt there was something in the concept to justify re-recording Last Night When We Were Young, which he had already performed on his 1955 break-up album In The Wee Small Hours. In fairness, the song does fit the themes of both albums - the narrator wants to get back together with his ex, if only to reminisce on how great life was when they were younger - so I’ll let it slide. Like all of Sinatra’s albums in this category, this one is alright. You probably love it if you’re already a fan. Now then, onto the other nominees; all of these are also just alright except for one we’ll save for the end. Barbra Streisand had two albums nominated in the previous year, presumably taking a cue from Frank Sinatra at the first ceremony. That didn’t pan out the way she had hoped, but she already had her Album of the Year, so I guess we shouldn’t feel too bad for . . . what was her name again? Ah right, My Name is Barbra. This was the first of two album tie-ins for a TV special of the same name, and it’s another concept album. The concept is “childhood,” which, knowing Academy members, is probably why it didn’t win over September of My Years. I guess they like reminiscing about being young, just not that young. Next is My World by country music legend Eddy Arnold. You can tell he was a big deal in country music because Ray Charles covered two of his songs on Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music. He was pretty good, in other words. Next is the film soundtrack for The Sound of Music. This was a huge commercial success, so much so that it was once the highest-selling album of all time. It's alright, though since I'm not a big fan of musicals, my opinion might not matter all that much. Future re-releases would add more songs to the tracklist, but all the most famous songs are on the original tracklist, so I recommend sticking with that. Finally, there’s Help! by The Beatles. This band definitely does not need an introduction and neither does this album, assuming this is the album that was nominated and not the soundtrack to the movie of the same name. Usually, the end of the review is devoted to the question of whether the Academy made the right choice. You’d think the inclusion of Help! would make that question much easier to answer, but at the same time, it feels a little unfair to compare a rock album to the rest of the selection because they’re all different. On the other hand, the choice always comes down to personal preference. Country fans will probably say Eddy Arnold should have won, Julie Andrews fans will probably say The Sound of Music should have won, etc. While none of the albums this year were bad in any way, Help! was the most enjoyable listening experience, so I’d rather that album had won. Quick aside, though, am I the only one who thinks You’re Going to Lose That Girl and You Like Me Too Much come across a little possessive?
9th Annual Grammy Awards - March 2, 1967 Frank Sinatra, A Man and His Music Barbra Streisand, Color Me Barbra The Beatles, Revolver Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass, What Now My Love Maurice Jarre, Doctor Zhivago The Academy sure loves Frank Sinatra, don’t they? He was not only the first person to win two Album of the Year awards, but he was also the first person to win three Album of the Year awards. The Academy loves Frank Sinatra so much, they gave him Album of the Year two years in a row. They could’ve given him a three year streak, but we’ll get to that next year. For now, let's talk about the second ceremony without the Best New Artist category. A Man and His Music is a double LP on which Sinatra re-records songs from his existing catalog to serve as a sort of career retrospective a la Springsteen on Broadway. However, Sinatra’s original recordings weren’t licensed for use by his then-recently formed label, Reprise. So he re-recorded most of the songs that appear on A Man and His Music. And in case you’re wondering, there is one song from an album that previously appeared in this category: Come Fly with Me, released for Capitol Records. But enough stalling, how is A Man and His Music? It’s fine. Sinatra has a bunch of narration throughout the album, which is probably my favorite part. I certainly like hearing him talk a lot more than I like this album’s version of In The Wee Small Hours. Actually, let me expand on that. Sinatra’s 1955 album In The Wee Small Hours is one I really, really love, so maybe it’s bias that makes me like the re-recorded version less. I get not wanting to make a carbon copy, but the way he sings it this time just doesn’t have the same forlorn brilliance. Nonetheless, A Man and His Music is pretty good. Runner up time! First is Color Me Barbra by Barbra Streisand. If you liked the previous albums she had in this category, you’ll like this too. Next is What Now My Love by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. This album was number one on Billboard for nine weeks, the longest run of any of the group’s albums. If you like more "commercial" jazz, you probably already like or at least know of Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. I do, so I say give this album a listen, if only for their cover of If I Were A Rich Man from Fiddler on the Roof. Then there’s Maurice Jarre’s soundtrack to the 1965 film Doctor Zhivago. This won the Grammy for Best Score Soundtrack for Visual Media, but unfortunately did not have the same luck in Album of the Year. Still, it deserved to win something. Also, I didn’t know this when I wrote the review of the previous year’s ceremony, but remember the soundtrack to the Beatles movie Help! that I mentioned? That soundtrack was also nominated for Best Score Soundtrack for Visual Media that year. It seems the Academy heard the title as “Help! We want a Grammy!” and didn’t think they’d earned it yet. And that brings us to Revolver. For the sake of keeping this from becoming a copy of the album’s Wikipedia page, all I’ll say about Revolver is that if you somehow haven’t heard it already, you should do that as soon as possible. Once we get to the end of the Sixties, we’ll start seeing a lot more interesting and enjoyable albums, but in the meantime, I regret that I’ll have to refer you to my thoughts on the previous ceremony. With all due respect to Frank Sinatra, The Beatles had the best album of all the nominees.
One of the rare times, if not the only time, when the Album of the Year Grammy matches my idea of the best album that year. Sublime. Yeah, people have said that Gilberto didn't like the way Getz played bossa nova, he was upset that Getz asked Astrud to sing on the album (she had no professional experience), or whatever. But they did go on to share a bill at Carnegie Hall, where all three performed together for part of the show; Astrud sang with Getz for awhile in 1964; and Joao reunited with Getz in the '70s. Getz won 3 Grammies that year, and Phil Ramone won one for engineering his album. Henry Mancini won 3 Grammies in other categories; Streisand won Best Pop Vocal - Female (her arranger and her album cover also won awards); The Beatles won 2 Grammies, and The Chipmunks Sing the Beatles even won an award for Engineering. But, an interesting thing: the winner for Best Rock n' Roll Recording was not The Beatles! "A Hard Day's Night" was nominated, but no cigar. In fact, The Beatles never won that particular Grammy. The Best Rock n' Roll Recording winner that year was Petula Clark for "Downtown."
It gets better. The next year, "Yesterday" lost to "King of the Road." Then, "Eleanor Rigby" lost to "Winchester Cathedral" by New Vaudeville Band. They didn't even get nominated for the award, renamed Best Contemporary Single, for '68, or the Best Contemporary Song for '69. Finally, "Let It Be" lost the Best Contemporary Song to "Bridge Over Troubled Water."
Geez, was the Academy offended by something John Lennon said? This feels like that time the VMAs called Lorde a "rock artist."
They did give The Beatles an award for Song of the Year at the 9th Grammies, for "Michelle," and Paul won another for his vocal on "Eleanor Rigby" that year, which makes the "Winchester Cathedral" win even stranger. Maybe it was something John said. Grammy seemed to prefer Paul.
Wow. 1965. People talk about the Grammys being out of touch with popular culture today, as if that were a new thing. Talk about being mired in the past.
But that was before people used to get their knickers in a twist about drawing the distinctions between rock 'n' roll, "rock", and pop.
They got that one right, at least. Do we have to turn this into yet another Beatles lovefest? They were good, but they weren't the only good act.
It would have most certainly have been the U.S. soundtrack album as the Grammy Awards are US based. I'm surprised that the US Rubber Soul didn't make it on the list. Perhaps the George Martin orchestral tracks helped the grown-ups to give it a chance?
