http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/soundboard/2008/09/bmi-urban-award.html
BMI Urban Awards: No Michael Jackson, much T-Pain
03:46 PM PT, Sep 5 2008
Two truths could be gleaned from last night's eight BMI Urban Awards ceremony at the Wilshire Theatre. One, it's T-Pain's world,
at least for now. And two, Michael Jackson is still an inescapable presence in pop, even when he's a physical no-show. But his brothers made their contributions too.
This annual event honors the most performed songs on urban radio -- the R&B and hip-hop hits with the most juice. T-Pain wasn't the only songwriter pulled up onstage to receive a prize numerous times: Producer Polow da Don could barely get off the podium, and Patrick "j. Que" Smith and Ezekiel Lewis from hit-making Atlanta crew
the Clutch warmed it up some too.
But the man who's turned Auto-Tune into a virtuoso instrument ruled the night, not only taking away the songwriter of the year prize, but also adding some infectious verve to an otherwise less-than-thrilling parade of industry types holding up placards and getting their photos snapped.
"I lost 40 pounds!" the Florida-based
rappa ternt sanga declared after claiming one of his many prizes. Then, if my ears can be trusted, he said, "Y'all can suck my fat." An odd expression of pride, perhaps. But as a performer, T-Pain is a trickster in the Flavor Flav mode -- he licked and caressed his songwriter of the year trophy quite impishly -- so verbal head scratchers from him shouldn't come as a surprise.
Contrasting with T-Pain's charming silliness was Marlon Jackson's eloquence in accepting the BMI Icon Award for himself and his brothers. Nearly all of the clan showed up for the big moment -- Michael was the only absent sibling -- and there was a lot of emotion in the rows they occupied.
Sister
Janet emerged at night's end to present the award to her brothers, looking svelte in a sort of semiformal take on a WAC uniform; she got so choked up that she could barely make it through her speech. Things got even more awkward when youngest Jackson Randy recalled his mom making him wash dishes after he played his first show at the Forum. That's when Marlon saved the day.
Still looking suave at 51 (OK, I admit it: He was my favorite Jackson when I plastered their poster onto my bedroom wall at age 9), Marlon praised "my father's wisdom" in putting together the family band, gave props to Motown and urged everyone to "study peace" before thanking BMI for being the first organization to give props to the Jackson 5 -- as opposed to honoring only their reclusive, notorious, insanely gifted second-youngest member.
It was a gracious speech that completely sidestepped the family's famous troubles. But Jackson's not on the campaign trail, so full disclosure's not really required. And if a few audience members (including this one) squirmed to see the Jacksons getting sniffly as patriarch Joe -- whose reputation, based on gossip, known infidelities and public accusations of abuse from siblings Michael and LaToya, rivals that of the late Ike Turner as one of the worst in pop music -- stood at their center ... well, as every pundit trying to parse the undeniable appeal of pit bull mom Sarah Palin is now quick to acknowledge, families are complicated. Some more than others.
Michael's absence from the ceremony certainly disappointed many, but in a way it was for the best: This was the time for the other brothers to shine and for those present to recall that their breakthroughs as a group made an important mark on pop history, outside of their resident genius' later accomplishments. Watching them respond to this recognition with dignity and pride, I felt strangely grateful to Michael for staying away and letting his brothers bask a little.
The only simple truth about the Jacksons is that they changed the face of black pop by creating a sound that appealed to young kids and created a new crossover market for soul. At the Wilshire, several contemporary artists paid tribute to that sound, but few could actually match its perfection.
The night's musical standout was Keri Hilson, R&B's smartest new ingenue. Hilson, whose debut album comes out in October, put the torch to "Who's Lovin' You," the Smokey Robinson tune the J5 recorded in 1969.
Less successful were
Hannah Montana could-have-been JoJo, who seemed uncomfortable sharing a duet of "I'll Be There" with the adorable Lloyd, and
"Dancing With the Stars" moonlighter Mario, who had the moves but not the voice to pull off the Michael-penned "This Place Hotel." A finale that brought him together with Ray Jay, Lloyd and Bobby Valentino hit some high points but felt unrehearsed.
That's the problem, though, with Michael Jackson's legacy; the artistic problem, that is. He's often imitated -- Ne Yo does so spectacularly on one track on his upcoming album -- but few singers have the chops or the presence to really match his style.
Which brings us back to T-Pain. His cyborg voodoo style has its limitations, but he owns it. Crooning along to a track in a spectacular purple
Baron Samedi get-up to close the awards show, T-Pain didn't worry about hitting the high notes or busting cool dance moves. He just shone, as he was: America's favorite dangerous joker this side of
Heath Ledger. And as Flavor Flav would say, it felt
aaiiight.
-- Ann Powers
Photo of the Jacksons by Chris Pizzello / Associated Press