Grammys... LIVE BLOGGING!

READ IT ALL RIGHT HERE, COOL CATS... MINUTE-BY-MINUTE COVERAGE...
11:25 p.m. Album of the Year, at last: My prediction, just below... SURPRISE!!! It's Taylor Swift, after losing everything to Beyonce tonight. I'm actually pleased, even though Gaga should have won, just to see that Beyonce finally lost... THE BIG ONE.

11:15 p.m, during 10 minutes of commericals. Okay, leading up to Album of the Year... Taylor Swift lost Song and Record, so it's looking like Beyonce is clear to ruin the year in music, with a win. I wanted Gaga, I predicted Swift, but now it seems clear that the Grammy voters (not including meese) were seduced by Beyonce's 10 noms, believing that nods merit "yes."

11:11 p.m. Why is Quentin Tarantino talking like he's a man of color? And when did he get fat?

11 p.m. The dead people, finally! Mentioned to Liz D. that her buddy Les Paul must be featured... and he's getting full-on treatment. Uh, where was Patrick Swayze?

10:59 p.m. Maxwell is fine, but this performance is bland. Roberta Flack just amped it way up, co-singing her "Where Is the Love." So, so nice.

10:46 p.m. Ricky Martin... still hot in that closet of his. My favorite award, Best Female Pop Vocal. I so wanted Pink to take this one home. Beyonce's win is a(nother) low point, for a popular entertainer who is not a talented vocalist. Thought Swift would win, for sure. One big zero.

10:42 p.m. Dave Matthews is performing. "I love him," Liz D. says. "I can't bear his voice," I respond. "I like him a lot," Liz says. "Well, you're wrong," I say. Leonard contributes, "He sounds like Paul Simon." Meese: "Well, there you go. I can't stand Paul Simon's voice, either." Caroline simply tells me to stop smoking. I used to be such a nice boy.

10:36 p.m. Neil Portnow announces the Clive Davis Theater... I just knew we'd never get through this telecast without mention of his name, since he wasn't able to rally a nod for Whitney Houston's flop comeback.

10:26 p.m. Andrea Bocelli and Mary J. Blige are singing "Bridge Over Troubled Water." I'm not convinced this is a good idea. She sounds wondrous. He's a slight bit absurd. Man, is Mary J. selling it. The whole "U.S. saves Haiti, cause we are the world" theme is getting on my nerves. I was in Turkey when the earthquake occurred—but it was only when I returned to the States that I was bombarded with America's posturing about being the savior of mankind. We are one nation among hundreds that are lending assistance. 'Nuf said.

10:18 p.m. Best Rap something. Jay-Z won. How could he not? Nom'd for three of the five. Anyone but Justin Timberlake & T.I.

10:14 p.m. Bon Jovi... with Jennifer Nettles of Sugarland... fabulous. I predicted to the room that the fan fave had to be "Livin' On a Prayer." Sure 'nuf. This is fun.9:52 p.m. Lionel Richie, intro'ing Michael Jackson tribute... my Celine Dion, Jennifer Hudson, Usher, Carrie Underwood, Smokey Robinson... and MJ... "Earth Song." That was fucking spellbinding... along with Gaga and Elton opening the show, I feel redeemed at devoting these three hours of my life.

9:45 p.m. Wow, that commercial break lasted a good 20 minutes. And yet the Ameriprise ad was five times more watchable than Peas or that goddamn mess with Jamie Foxx... Taylor Swift is going to attempt to sing live again... oh my Lord, even with this quiet song, where she doesn't have to project, she is ghastly... even flatter in tone than her chest... Stevie Nicks looks good, huh? I've nothing against Swift as a hitmaker/songwriter, but my heavens, at her age, isn't it all downhill from here?

9:33 p.m. Rock Album: Green Day. No contest. Well done. Chris O'Donnell looks absolutely beautiful. Zzzzac Brown is performing. Why is the big guy screaming? I might have to pee in my gin and drink it... that'd be less punishing. Leonard remarks that Leon Russell looks like Rip Van Winkle. Caroline is cutting our desert fruit tart. Won't have drink my own urine, after all.

9:17 p.m. Norah Jones cleans up good for a frumpy housewife. Record of the Year: I'm paralyzed... Kings of Leon. Thank god. I wanted Gaga, but anyone other than Peas. That would have been the ultimate blemish for the year in music... oh, wait, I spoke too soon. Jamie Foxx and T.I. and a bunch of grotesque figures are threatening to short out the TV set. I'd laugh if I weren't crying so hard.

9:09 p.m. Some lady just said that the Comedy album category "doesn't require musical talent." Ha, ha, ha, neither do the music categories... wait, that's not funny. Is the millennium over yet?

9:05 p.m. Why does Joe Jonas look like "Where's Waldo?" Let's face it, without his looks, what do we have here? Lady Antebellum performing. I'm gonna try to pee, even though I don't really have to.

8:54 p.m. Miley Cyrus proves she never got past the sixth grade by saying "y'all" twice in five seconds... Now the Black Eyed Peas are "performing." Thank heavens I refreshed my gin while Zzzzac Brown was accepting BNA (below)... I'm explaining to Leonard that this noise is now considered "pop music." He's looking at me as if I'm suffering from dementia. Granny rapping from Fergie is amusing in its sheer audacious awfulness, but my ears are beginning to tremble... uh, oh, I think my inner tubes are collapsing. Keith Urban is applauding, but looks like he's thinking, "One-way ticket to Nashville. Stat!"

8:46 p.m. Best New Artist... empty category that I used to care so much about. Sheena Easton/1982. Zac Brown wins, as expected. The room here—Liz D., Caroline, Leonard, me—say nothing. In fact, I assume the world just either went to pee or to refresh cocktails. Zzzzzzzac Brown...

8:30 p.m. Seal. Love him... Pink performing "Glitter in the Air," the song that Perry Payne dedicated to Carlton in her performance at Metropolitan Room last year... mesmerized... Who ever thought she would become a class act? 30. Gorgeous. Liz D. just said, "That was quite the performance, young lady." Among the most credible acts of the last decade.8:27 p.m. Beyonce takes the stage. I actually like "If I Were a Boy." It has a melody. Good shoes, girl. Now she's singing Alanis, "You Oughta Know"... oh, honey, uh, uh. I'll say it again: Fine entertainer, but let's not confuse dat with LeAnn Rimes, Christina Aguilera, Celine... singers.

8:25 p.m. Best Country Album: I'll just type in now, before they say it out loud. Taylor Swift... Okay, sorry, after winning 347819375 awards in 2009, her breathy humility is not exactly convincing. (P.S. Never wear your hair up again, honey. Your face resembles a moon pie.)

8:14 p.m. Jennifer Lopez has never looked more beautiful... wow-sa... Green Day with some people that I've never heard of, singing "21 Guns" as if it were a Broadway anthem for the gays. Oops.

8:11 p.m. Song of the Year... Gaga, Maxwell, Beyonce, Kings of Leon, Taylor Swift... Beyonce begins her takeover of what is now going on-record for being a year in music as bad as it sounded on radio... Her total win already: five awards out of 10 noms. NYC is worried about a terrorist trial, while Beyonce, the shrill shill, is now voted as the year's top singer. Lord have mercy on the free world.

8 p.m.! Akon intros Gaga! I'm elated. Conjuring Freddie Mercury as she goes into "Poker Face." Spent much of 2009 dissing her... now I'm a believer... except, do we always have to see the kootycat?... It's Elton! Singing a duet on "Speechless," which so needs to be her next hit... into "Your Song." This is fucking fabulous... an event. iTunes, please... will be looking for it tomorrow.7:57 p.m. Ryan Seacrest... you know, I don't know that he's so much a closet queen as wholly asexual. I'm not convinced that he has ever had an erection... Rihanna looks like a pre-plucked chicken.

7:44 p.m. Lady Gaga reveals her first outfit of the evening. Fabulous and outrageous as ever... and thankfully, it hides her cucumber-sized nose.

7:41 p.m. Watching the E! pre-Grammy show... Kesha was just interviewed by Giuliana Rancic, whose head is oddly larger than the Times Square New Year's ball... the trailer-trashy 22-year-old singer of "Tik Tok," is the new-generation whore. Fergie can finally surrender the crown.