"...it says nothing to me about my life" - otherwise known as 'The BRIT Awards'

Every year, I wonder why I bother watching the Brit Awards ceremony.  At thirty-four years of age it's hardly geared towards me; then again when I was watching it as a teenager it wasn't geared towards me either.  Then, the winners were always Queen or Annie Lennox; dinosaur acts that didn't register on my radar.  Now, the winners are Ed Sheeran and One Direction; foetal acts that don't register on my radar (I tried listening to Ed Sheeran's album; it was full of songs about being in uni and getting drunk.  I felt old and sad).

I'm not a fan of Adele, either - talented as she obviously is, her music sounds to me like the aural equivalent of reduced-fat margarine.  Just a bit bland.  I can't take to it.  And don't get me started on James Corden, acting as host for the night's festivities.

So why was I watching, then, with so many people on it just waiting in their best evening dress just to send me into a critical tailspin?  Oh God, I don't know.  Probably so I could get all outraged about how bland and corporate music is becoming, like that wasn't the case AT ALL when I was younger and everything sounded newer and fresher.  I used to work for a local radio station when I was eighteen.  It's a job I couldn't do now; at the time I liked most of the music, the music I didn't like didn't send me into an apoplectic old person's tizz, and I was too young to realise most of the songs were cover versions anyway.  It felt like a simpler phase of life, somehow.

Anyway, I think the Brit Awards should take a leaf out of the Smash Hits Poll Winners' Party's book and do fun awards like 'Haircut from Hell' (I think Pat Sharp received a Lifetime Contribution award for that category!) and a few 'Worst...' awards wouldn't go amiss either, which would be good for One Direction as it means they could come back next year, bless 'em.