In the latest installment of our animated outrage, we conjure the arcane rites of the Grammy Secret Nominating Committee—depicted here as lying somewhere between H.P. Lovecraft and Rube Goldberg—and the eternal braying of Lyor, who arrives to spoil the fun. Any resemblance to committees earthly or celestial is purely coinicidental.
LATIN GRAMMY PREVIEW: HOME-FIELD ADVANTAGE
You can't tell the players without a scorecard. (7/26a)
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THE GRAMMY SHORT LIST
Who's already a lock?
COUNTRY'S NEWEST DISRUPTOR
Three chords and some truth you may not be ready for.
AI IS ALREADY EATING YOUR LUNCH
The kids can tell the difference... for now.
INDIE DISTRIBUTION'S RISE TO GLORY
The discovery engine is revving higher.
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