This is pretty much all you need of how irrelevant the Grammys have become: "My Humps," the utterly insipid lowest common-denominator hit shat out by the Black Eyed Peas, received a nomination. The level of intelligence required for a rational human being to find any redeeming quality in this song probably is the same that mistakes High School Musical for Equus. And all this time I thought that mediocrity was the domain of the American Music Awards and the Billboard Awards. Silly me.

Although the vast majority of nominated songs and albums may be immaculately produced, released by blue-chip artists, and are reasonably popular if not critically acclaimed, it's hard to deny that all (possibly excepting of Gnarls Barkley—a bizarre act, but mainstream nonetheless) are in no way groundbreaking, let alone original. They are, in a word, banal. (I do, however, find it respectable that the Album of the Year was bestowed upon a politically controversial—albeit musically unadventurous—act, the Dixie Chicks.)

And while I would never expect to see the Hold Steady or the Clipse nominated in significant categories (the Red Hot Chili Peppers got a nod for wearing socks on their penises 15 years ago), I would hope that the most prestigious music awards would place a greater emphasis on creativity and artistic merit over their seemingly dominant criteria: competency. But that may be asking too much of an industry filled with out of touch stuffed shirts who know Pitchfork only as a gardening tool and TV on the Radio as some new-fangled technological wonder.—Anthony DiRocco