Around 24 hours ago millions of television viewers called 911 simultaneously to reporting on the robbery of a 28-year-old African American male from Compton by a 26-year-old blonde Caucasian female from Pennsylvania. Fortunately, the possession that was snatched was a meaningless hunk of brass that is awarded arbitrarily to 'artists' deemed to have been the vocal and powdered flesh conduit of superior computer-constructed pop music, and Kendrick had already beaten the odds and claimed five of the toys on the night already.
For any musician who cares about their craft, the Grammys are at best a decent promo opportunity to reach a new audience and at worst a protracted benefit dinner for a charity that you don't care about because it doesn't do anything vital. At least the drinks are free. Kendrick Lamar embraced the sense of occasion, though, and put in a breathtaking/throat-choking performance of The Blacker The Berry and Alright; that started in an American jail, progressed to Africa, then returned home to Compton, Africa. It was perfect. If Kanye has taken mental illness leave from the throne, then this was the moment King Kendrick stepped up and tied the crown into his cornrows.
The performance was an even better experience for a handful of kids from Kendrick's former high school in Compton who met the man himself and scored backstage passes courtesy of Reebok. Get all the details on the '11 Mile Journey' here.