GordonWrightMusic.com Beta

I had no intention of caring about the Oscars this year. But, well, I like Jon Stewart. What can I say?

Many have already written off last night’s event for being lame, but I actually liked all the montages. I guffawed at the homage to binoculars and periscopes. Call me corny.

Best moment for me, though, was Alex Gibney’s darkhorse win of the Best Documentary with Taxi to the Dark Side.

Full Disclosure Alex is currently making a movie of my dad’s one-man play, and his win not only benefits my pops, but also shows nuance to Hollywood’s typically fairweather politicking. I particularly appreciated his terse and political speech, made all the more affecting and bizarre when flanked by two towering women. Felt very mob-boss.

Maybe people just felt relieved to talk about something aside from the presidential race. Or perhaps people are starved for a little bling and red carpet after the writers withheld our dose of “Desperate Housewives” for so long.

Whatever the case, people got excited about the Grammy Awards this year. I heard recaps from friends, coworkers, family. But I didn’t watch. Not only that, I completely forgot it was on. In fact, I wrote off the Grammys years ago. Not out of any bitterness or jealousy, mind you, but simply because they never seem relevant to what I was pursuing musically. Sure, I enjoyed seeing Eminem and Elton duet, but the awards themselves meant nothing.

This year, people seem particularly shocked about Herbie Hancock’s big win. Indeed, Quincy Jones’s disarming exclamation — “unbelievable, man!” — was one of those great award show moments (so great I heard it replayed later). I even know it happened at 10:40pm CST, because I got a euphoric text from Jazzy Jeff.

Hey, good for Herbie! Too bad it wasn’t for one of his more ambitious or landmark records. But this hardly seems such a surprise to me. Remember when Steely Dan won?

Sounds like a 50’s doo-wop group. But The Searchers is a classic John Wayne Western, which we TiVoed the other night.

I haven’t seen many Westerns, largely because of how silly the melodrama and stereotypes seem now — they’d be amusing if they weren’t so boring. This one is good, though, primarily because of what a wackjob Wayne’s character is. It also helps that the movie is told in such a hurry (it’s quite an epic to fit in under two hours), making Wayne seems that much more unpredictable. And all the more iconic that he truly does do the best John Wayne impression.

My favorite part, though, was the opening credits. After a dramatic orchestral swell announced the Duke, the film’s eponymous song abruptly starts, sung in three-part harmony by, presumably, cowboys. It’s awesome.

Cowboy doo-wop. Maybe it’s a good title for the film after all.