We Still Really Don’t Know How the Grammys Work

Twenty-four hours before this year’s Grammy nominations were announced, it was decided that the top four categories would expand from eight to ten nominees. Casting a wider net and embracing “the spirit of inclusion” was the explanation given behind the eleventh hour decision, a move that ultimately led to Taylor Swift earning an album of the year nod a year after winning the same award and made space for Kanye West, an artist who literally pissed on one of the many trophies he’s collected in his career.

But Kanye and Taylor weren’t the only ones to benefit from this shift. Doja Cat, Lil Nas X, Brandi Carlile, Baby Keem and Arooj Aftab were all now in categories that they’d been edged out of. And though it’s certainly true that making room for more artists to be celebrated for their work is always a great thing, it’s hard to look at this latest switch from the powers that be at the Recording Academy as anything other than another reminder that we still don’t really know how the Grammys work.

I actually don’t fault the Recording Academy for wanting to do things differently this year. Awards need to shift, especially awards given to an art form that evolves as aggressively as music does. But the Grammys hasn’t exactly been a champion for change, and that’s been a problem for decades now. The conversation around the nominations—and the ceremony that honors a small fraction of winners on-air—has always been rife with contention as the Recording Academy struggles to keep up with the industry.

Every year there’s some snub or surprise that keeps things weird and unpredictable while also leading to friction amongst artists, producers/songwriters and industry players. Every year there are issues with representation of women and artists of color amongst the major pop categories. Every year there's always a dearth of rap on the ballot outside of genre categories, despite the genre's wide influence. And every year there’s accusations of corruption from voters by their peers and a public that’s continued to be suspicious—and perplexed—by the complex and mysterious process that determines nominees.

And the Recording Academy is well aware of this perception and the complicated relationship its organization has with its members, the music industry and music fans. There’s a new regime in place that promises transparency and diversity are a priority, and that’s a great, well-meaning start. I’m just not entirely convinced it’s true.

Sure, the big four categories—record, song, album and best new artist—had the mix of current hitmakers, legacy acts and curveballs that we've come to expect from these voters but if we’re being honest there’s something about a last minute move to expand categories that felt a bit shady.

Maybe it’s unfair to say that. But trying to figure out how exactly we arrive to the crop of nominations that end up on the final ballot almost makes rocket science seem like a cakewalk. Those of us tasked with reporting on the Recording Academy have barely gotten a handle on it, so I can’t image the casual music fan has ever been able to make sense of it. Moments like last year’s inexplicable snub of the Weeknd don’t help at all, and only adds to the idea that the whole thing is at least a little bit rigged—a perception made all the more stronger by the constant public clashing between artists, the process that determines the nominations and the producers of the show that celebrates them.

Part of that process, the secret committees that review nominations, was off the table this time around. For the first time in 27 years the final nominees in the major categories were determined by the Recording Academy’s voting members without any committee oversight. But the decision to expand the big four categories at the last minute raised hackles and led to questions. Was it done solely because it was the only way to get Taylor Swift and Kanye West, two of the biggest artists on the planet who put out blockbuster releases, into the mix?

The decision to expand the major categories was admirable, but the fact that it happened behind closed doors—without input from voters—the night before nominations were released does stain the process just a little bit. Regardless of the intention it has colored the nominations and made folks ask questions. And even more will be asked when you have someone like Drake withdrawing his nominations from contention.

Drake, like many of his peers, has never shied away from being vocal about his frustrations with the Recording Academy. A common gripe is the institution at large feels entirely disconnected from the artists who are making cultural impacts with their music. They've done a shit job with taking rap serious for decades now, particularly when it comes to awarding artists from the genre in the big four categories and their track record with Black artists outside of rap is just as dismal. In the past Drake has declined to submit work out of protest and even taken a shot about the award’s relevancy while accepting a trophy onstage one year (I was backstage for that one, and lemme tell you, things were tense), but pulling himself from contention just as voting gets underway? It's possible Drake just didn't want to be in the mix. It's also possible that he's just as confused about what went down the night before nominations were announced and decided to bow out. Either way it's another massive PR blow for an awards show that's got an image problem.

If the purpose of expanding the top categories was about inclusion and diversifying the nominees at a time of extraordinary growth in music then why weren't genre categories expanded to make space for more talent? And why is there still a system in place that makes genre gatekeeping appear to be so antiquated and in serious need of overhauling?

Of course there has to be some level of oversight. There's close to 90 categories for the Grammys, but none of us know how the committees that determine what is or isn’t country or R&B or hip-hop or pop or any other genre actually works or how they are comprised and that adds to the perception that there's shady business going down behind the scenes. Kacey Musgraves can be told her album isn’t eligible to compete in country while somehow Justin Bieber gets to compete against Jazmine Sullivan for a R&B Grammy? It makes very little sense. Bieber’s desire to be recognized for making R&B here and there, he’s a massive pop artist that benefits from mainstream access in a way traditional R&B vocalists haven’t been afforded in ages. That's not his fault, but he’s never used his influence in any way to advocate for that gap to be closed and so we're supposed to believe that he landed a R&B song nod entirely on his own and not because he raised a stink last year for feeling snubbed by the R&B committee?

Again, it’s entirely possible that these are all unfair thoughts and an unnecessary pileup on an organization that is trying to change public perception and be more transparent about a process that sometimes alludes its own members. But hey, what else are we supposed to think when there’s a whole process that happens behind closed doors before the final ballot is revealed?

This piece was updated after Drake withdrew his two nominations.