Every once in a while, an artist so exceptional comes along that even The National Academy of Recording Arts & Sciences — The Grammy People — can't screw things up.
Sure, I know what you're thinking — these are the doofuses who, with their usual insight, granted their coveted hardware to Milli Vanilli, who not only didn't sport their own tresses but didn't even bother to record or perform the songs attributed to them. But this year, newcomer Mariah Carey found herself nominated in no less than five of the 79 separate categories. While that does put her 72 nominations behind Phil Collins, it is the sort of recognition that this impressive new talent deserves, and the Recording Arts etc. folks should be applauded, right along with multi-octave Ms. Carey.
While Carey's tour de force, “Vision Of Love” was easily the best song of 1990 in terms of radio play and popularity among the listening populance, because of deadlines and other time-warp troubles, you'll know if the voters actually graced Carey with that accolade officially by the time you read this. Whatever happens, Carey will long be remembered for gaining nominations in the five most important categories which apply to her: Record Of The Year (for “Vision Of Love”), Album Of The Year (Mariah Carey), Song Of The Year (the songwriter's award for “Vision Of Love” which was penned by Carey and Ben Margulies), Best New Artist and Best Pop Vocal Performance, Female.
That would be a full boat for anyone, but when the call came to inform her of her good fortune, Carey was, according to USA Today, looking a little down-in-the-mouth. Actually, her dentist was looking down into her mouth, but they put the call through, anyway.
“They stopped before it got really serious, and told me I'd better take this call,” she said. “I'm in shock!”
Mariah Carey shouldn't be too surprised — it's the way most of us on the other side of the CD or cassette player (or dentist's drill, for that matter) have felt since first hearing Carey last summer. Mariah Carey should be hailed as the artist of the year — despite what fans of the various Hammers and Ices might have you believe — because she is a true singer and songwriter, adding life and light to a trade that in recent years has become a dull day at the office.
Carey's interview style — ebullient and gracious, is both endearing and enduring. And, while much of the early thrust of her debut focused on the fact that if you closed your eyes and opened your ears, you might mistake her for Whitney Houston, Carey has since distinguished herself with repeated listens. “Vision Of Love,” starting from the depths of her soul, rising to the heavens and skating along on stretched out melismatic notes in between, might edge out Sinead O'Connor's fine interpretation of Prince's “Nothing Compares 2 U” on the strength of its originality to be thought of as the song of the year.
Why? Because the two other standout pop songs of 1990 — “U Can't Touch This” and “Ice Ice Baby” — essentially were hit songs for other, better artists years before. Carey came along to create an artist's primary occupation, songs which were both instantly catchy and also in it for a longer haul. 1990, and when the awards are doled out in early 1991, was/is Mariah's time to shine.
Which bodes well for the rest of her career, of course. Carey's just getting to the legal age (21) of her home base, New York, and she's already surpassed Brenda K Starr, whom she used to back up. Her singing does display a sense of maturity beyond her years, and that has to be attributed to tagging along with her mother, Patricia, who for a time sang with the New York City Opera. Experience is where you find it.
More than anything else, Mariah Carey's brought some frivolity and anticipation back to the music biz, and that's why she gets my vote for at least four of those most important categories (I'm
waffling on that Sinead stuff). No matter how you slice it, Carey's making some of the coolest cuts these days. Just ask: four out of five dentists agree!