At the risk of sounding trite, American awards shows are in their flop era. (Unless, of course, the show is hosted by BET. In that case, it’s probably very entertaining.) Last weekend’s Oscars sucked for plenty of reasons that had nothing to do with Will Smith attacking someone and then giving a discomforting, snot-filled speech. Earlier this year, the Golden Globes were held in a basement somewhere and announced on Twitter, with no hope of returning to network television. The so-rarely relevant VMAs may or may not still happen every year. And the Grammys have spent the past decade handing out hip-hop awards to Macklemore, fielding accusations of voter fraud, and telling the women they routinely snub to work harder.
Of all the prestigious awards shows, the Grammys seems the most dedicated to planting itself on the wrong side of history year after year. However, I’d like to think that the actual handing out of trophies would be a lot easier to consume if the ceremony wasn’t so terrible on a production level.
For the past decade, at least, the usually three-hour-long CBS telecast has consistently featured a few befuddling elements. There’s the boringly polite and inoffensive host whose primary job is to explain how music works, as if everyone watching is a Martian. Save for last year’s first post-pandemic ceremony, there are usually a few head-scratching mash-up performances featuring a pair of nominated artists and sometimes an older, more established musician (who can forget the Jonas Brothers and Stevie Wonder singing “Burnin’ Up” together?). Then there are the random tribute performances that don’t always coincide with notable anniversaries, like when Usher and FKA Twigs commemorated Prince four years after his death or when Jennifer Lopez was curiously selected to perform a Motown medley.
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Additionally, the sheer amount of performances packed into recent years’ shows have been staggering, making so many of them—even by the most interesting and talented artists—forgettable by the end of the night. After the 2020 ceremony, which felt like a never-ending charity concert with a whooping 22 performances, viewers on social media joked that only three awards had been given out the entire evening. Last year’s post-pandemic show was slightly more balanced on that front, but many of the performers were sandwiched together throughout the night in a way that diminished the impact of their individual showcases.
At a time when ratings for the Grammys are continuing to plummet, I believe the Recording Academy has no other choice than to look to the BRIT Awards for guidance.
I started watching livestreams of the BRITs back when I was an ardent One Direction fan and the boy band was a prominent presence on the London-based telecast. The show introduced me to up-and-coming pop artists like Olly Murs, Disclosure, Labrinth, Ella Eyre, Jess Glynne, and Emeli Sandé, who I may not have known or at least cared about if I wasn’t tuning in. I got to witness amazing performances from American music staples like Kanye West, Justin Timberlake, Beyoncé, and Katy Perry that didn’t seem at all feasible on an American telecast (more on that later). It’s also one of the only ceremonies I’ve seen acknowledge the musical contributions of Rita Ora. Needless to say, the show has always had a strong impact on me.
Like the Grammys, the BRIT Awards have had some internal issues play out in public—some of which have been corrected. But overall, it’s long been a more innovative, exuberant, and progressive broadcast compared to what CBS has to offer.
On a basic but crucial note, the BRITs have always been the superior awards show to look at. The Grammys, forever shackled to hideous brassy, metallic tones, have tried to incorporate a more vibrant, colorful palette into its graphics over the past three years. But they still lack the sleekness and character you get from the BRITs’ consistently chic and artistic aesthetic. The Britannia statuette is particularly stunning, receiving redesigns from British art and fashion luminaries like Vivienne Westwood, Peter Blake, Damien Hurst, and, this year, Sir Anish Kapoor, that inspire the visuals for the rest of the show. Side by side with a BRIT Award, the Grammys’ miniature gramophone, although an unquestionably iconic image, looks like a sad Christmas ornament from Dollar Tree.
Another major advantage the BRITs have over the Grammys is the scale of the performances and what the telecast allows each artist to showcase. I’ve always appreciated that performers at the BRITs are given the entire stage in London’s O2 Arena (plus a runway) to create a unique and immersive visual experience—unlike at the Grammys, where the artists are sectioned off to different pieces of the stage and can’t really flex their creative muscles (unless you’re Beyoncé, of course).
Some standout productions at the BRITs include Kanye’s rowdy 2015 performance of “All Day,” which featured prominent grime artists like Skepta and Krept & Konan, tons of awe-inspiring pyrotechnics, and a slew of uncensored curse words. A personal favorite of mine is Little Mix’s futuristic rendition of “Shout Out to My Ex” in 2017, bolstered by Janet Jackson-esque choreography and a bunch of shirtless men painted silver. Last year, Dua Lipa performed a show-stopping medley of her singles from Future Nostalgia that felt like you were watching a contemporary MGM musical. And who can forget Kylie Minogue emerging from a giant stereo at the 2002 ceremony to sing “Can’t Get You Out of My Head” like a disco Barbie doll come to life?
Presumably, one of the reasons performers at the BRITs are allowed to execute these grand artistic flourishes is because the broadcast seemingly isn’t concerned about hosting as many artists as possible in an attempt to maximize viewership, despite the show’s ratings also declining annually. This is simply the reality of awards shows in an era where there’s a million other things to watch, and the BRIT Awards, at least from how it appears, have accepted their fate, staying true to a long-practiced formula. Overall, the BRITs are much more selective, thoughtful, and focused on the quality, not the quantity, of the performances they curate.
Finally, it’s nice to know that the celebrities in the audience of any given awards show are actually having a good time. That’s why the Golden Globes, despite the amount of deserved scrutiny they’ve recently accrued, were so essential to our awards show ecosystem in the U.S. Like that NBC broadcast, honored guests at the BRITs are seated comfortably at circular tables where they’re served a seemingly generous supply of alcohol (see: boozy acceptance speeches by Adele and Arctic Monkeys), as opposed to the unsupportive folding chairs even a very pregnant Beyoncé had to sit in for three-and-a-half grueling hours at the 2017 Grammys.
On a radio show last year, British superstar Ed Sheeran—who has years of experience attending the Grammys, VMAs, Billboard Music Awards, and pretty much every other American music bash—confirmed my suspicions that the culture at awards shows across the pond is a lot less tense.
“The room is filled with resentment and hatred towards everyone else and it’s quite an uncomfortable atmosphere,” the “Bad Habits” singer said on The Julia Show about American ceremonies. “In England, our award shows are just like, everyone gets drunk and no one really cares who wins or loses. It’s just sort of a good night out.”
History has proven as much, given the amount of stage invasions, altercations, and other chaotic incidents that have occurred in years past at the BRITs that make Will Smith’s slap seem like normal awards show etiquette. All in all, I’m sure there are plenty of British viewers who will tell me that the BRIT Awards are absolutely terrible and in need of major reform. But the show’s loose, vibrant energy—which it maintains while also managing to feel important and grand—is something the Grammys desperately needs in its current stage of self-seriousness, over-strategizing, and banal gestures regarding social issues. It’s about time for the show to step up.
