Grammies offer a few (major) surprises.

I just finished watching the annual endurance test known as the Grammies and, as always, the recording industry missed the mark almost universally. As was pretty much expected, the chronically troubled Amy Winehouse cleaned up, with no less than six trophies going into her column. Understandably, Winehouse was a Grammy favorite, with the hit single "Rehab" having been on our collective radars for the better part of the last year; however, one would have thought that due to her noted stints in rehab (ah, how art imitates life!) and recent visa issues, the voters may have changed their course.

The ever-outspoken Kanye West picked up the trophies for best rap song and album, once again, predictably, although with arguably his weakest album to date. Mr. West also performed the evening's biggest "head scratching" performance, which included neon lights, space suits, and a giant pyramid.

However, the one true surprise that came out of the night was saved for the finale. With such heavyweights as Winehouse, Kanye, and Foo Fighters seemingly the favorites to pick up the award for album of the year, it was jazz pioneer Herbie Hancock who left with the big prize. For a generation that for the most part only knows Hancock as the punchline to a Tommy Boy joke, this may have been a bit confusing, but as a fan of Herbie's for a number of years, I couldn't have been more pleased. For one reason, with the exception of Winehouse's album, the other options were relatively tame (probably the Foo's worst offering to date). But more importantly, this was a chance to put Jazz music, the oft-forgotten intellectual older brother of Blues, Rock, and R&B, to the forefront of the evening's festivities.

While still terribly and embarrassingly out of touch with the truly great music out there today, this year's show did provide a silver lining, albeit a silver-haired one.