The Black Eyed Peas from left, apl.de.ap, will. i. am, Taboo, and Fergie, perform at the Grammy Nominations Concert on Wednesday, Dec. 2, 2009, in Los Angeles. (AP Photo/Chris Pizzello)

One of the most annoying things about award shows is that they’re usually entirely too long, for no reason, because the awards are padded with a lot of filler that has the nutritional equivalent of packing peanuts. CBS’ concert to announce the Grammy nominations is, appropriately, an hour long, because it’s not even an awards show. It’s the coming attractions. So, good on you, CBS. If you can only keep the actual show from bloat, we’ll all be happy.

If anything, the special seemed a little rushed, maybe because the producers, which include host and CBS star L.L. Cool J., were trying so hard to pack it full of relevant content that they loaded it with everything but the kitchen sink. Heck, if the kitchen sink can sing, the more the merrier.

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The artist: Rod Stewart

The album: Soulbook (J Records)

The spin: Rod Stewart reinvented himself in the new millennium by exercising his distinctly soulful pipes on classic standards with his “Great American Songbook” collection. Now he returns to his soul roots on “Soulbook,” a thirteen-song collection that represents the soul sounds of Philadelphia, Memphis, and Motown.

Stewart kicks things off with a dramatic rendition of the Four Tops classic, “It’s the Same Old Song” and between that and the last song, he honors soul music’s greats, including The O’Jays, the Temptations, and Sam Cooke. And while it’s a pretty good record, it does have a few minor bumps.

Whenever an artist covers somebody else’s material, it’s important that they offer something fresh in return, and for the most part Stewart delivers. But some of the arrangements are too close to the originals. No one will ever confuse Stewart with Jimmy Ruffin on “What Becomes of the Broken Hearted,” or Brook Benton on “Rainy Night in Georgia,” but he breaks no new ground on either song.
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Interactive: Video, audio and more of the best of Motown’s first 50 years

Marvin Gaye was one of the mainstays of Motown, and helped it change during the 1970s. (AP)

In Jan. 12, 1959, Elvis Presley was in the Army. The Beatles were a little-known group called The Quarrymen casting about for gigs in Liverpool. The nascent rock ‘n’ roll world was a few weeks away from “the day the music died” — when a single-engine plane crash claimed the lives of Buddy Holly, J.P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson and Ritchie Valens.

It’s also the day a 29-year-old boxer, assembly line worker and songwriter named Berry Gordy Jr. used an $800 family loan to start a record company in Detroit.

Fifty years later, Motown Records Corp. and its stable of largely African-American artists have become synonymous with the musical, social and cultural fabric of America. The company spawned household names, signature grooves and anthems for the boulevard and bedroom alike that transcended geography and race.

And time.

Motown may be 50 years old, but it isn’t any less relevant with current hitmakers — from Taylor Swift to Coldplay — citing the label’s signature “sound” as an influence.

Would there be a Beyonce or Mariah Carey had Diana Ross, Martha Reeves and Gladys Knight not come first?

How about Kanye West and Justin Timberlake? What would have become of their musical careers had Motown not blazed a trail with the likes of Michael Jackson, Smokey Robinson, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, The Temptations and The Four Tops?
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Which musicians do you think belong up here?

This morning, as I was bartering five more minutes of bed time with the Snooze Alarm Fairy, I heard a snippet of yesterday’s Mo and Sally show on Kool 105,5 FM, where they were trying to come up with a Mt. Rushmore of Sports. This not only made me come up with my own sports mountain (Babe Ruth, Jesse Owens, Johnny Unitas and Hank Aaron) but inspired me to ponder who’d be on popular music’s Mt. Rushmore.

This is tricky, of course, because how do you come up with just four faces to be carved into that mythical musical mountain? Do you keep it to the rock and roll era, or go back to early influences like Big Mama Thornton and Robert Johnson? Do you only include performers, or pivotal writers like Leiber and Stoller? Do you keep it to rock and roll? Or do you just cut the difference and carve in all four Beatles?

 I decided to keep my timeline between the early 1900s and now. Picking just four people from that is gonna leave some people off – Heck, I’ll probably disagree with myself in ten minutes. But here’s my musical Mt. Rushmore, although I’d be interested in yours, too. And tell me what you think of mine. I know you will!

— Robert Johnson: The mysterious guitarist has been an influence for so many, not only musically, but in creepy supernatural backstory. His claim of having made a deal with the devil at the crossroads is the stuff that rock-and-roll legend is made of.

— Smokey Robinson: He wrote much of the Motown songbook, setting the tone for American popular music lyrically and stylistically. And he sang “Ooh, Baby, Baby,” which is worth a place on a mountain, a Nobel prize and his own holiday.

— Paul McCartney: OK. Here’s where the fight begins. I could only pick one Beatle, and I know that John Lennon gets the artistic props because he was supposedly the brainy one, and because his solo work doesn’t involve “Ebony and Ivory.” But in terms of continued influence and sheer volume of his canon, I gotta go with Macca. Please don’t hurt me.

— Carole King: Oh, did I agonize over this one! I kept typing the name “Michael Jackson” and then erasing it, before I settled on King (whose absence as a solo artist from The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame continues to blow my mind). Bear with me. Her work as a writer in the Brill Building set the tone for so much of the ’60s, and her influence goes not only to girl groups and to peaceful easy singers like James Taylor and Carly Simon, but to almost every woman singer who ever sat down at a piano (or picked up a guitar, for that matter) and sang sensitively and honestly about her life. No Carole? No Lilith Fair. 

Yeah, I know. No Elvis. Maybe if there was a fifth face…but I went with Johnson for the early rock influence. What do you think? Who’s on your musical mountain? Type away, dear friends….

Wellington's Hey Monday

Fall Out Boy, Wilmette, Illinois’ favorite pop punksters, are coming back to South Florida this Tuesday, and I’m not sure whether I’m more excited to see Pete, Patrick and the boys, or Hey Monday, the Wellington kiddies opening for them.

Actually, yes, I know. Hey Monday, hands down.

It’s not that I don’t love FOB – Patrick Stump’s voice equals perfection – but I’m extra-excited about Hey Monday, with whom I spent a really nice afternoon in the food court of the Boynton Beach Mall last fall. Not only are they decent, chatty kids, but their music is powerfully upbeat, fun and benefits from the chirpy vocals of Cassadee Pope, who made an appearance in FOB’s “America’s Suitehearts” video.

If Debbie Harry of Blondie was a cheerleader, she’d be Cassadee.

Being the lead singer and a cute girl, Cassadee stands out, but she’s not the only one. Songs like Homecoming also prominently feature the gonzo beats of Elliot James, who I first met when he was in a band called Easton. Also in the group: Bassist Michael “Jersey” Moriarty, who hails, well, from New Jersey; lead guitarist Mike Gentile; and rhythm guitarist Alex Lipshaw. Great band. Catch ‘em.

One last FOB note: When their album Folie a Deux came out in December, it stayed in the Pop Life Mobile CD player for about a week and a half. I was especially obsessed with the song What A Catch, Donnie! featuring vocal cameos by, among others, Travis McCoy of Gym Class Heroes, Brendon Urie of Panic at the Disco and (squee!) Elvis Costello, all singing snippets from FOB songs. I’m sure this won’t happen, but if Elvis showed up as a surprise guest star, I’d be no good to anyone for the next month.

You are so beautiful to him: I was at Cruzan Amphitheatre last year to cover a co-bill featuring Steve Miller Band and Joe Cocker. And while I enjoyed flying like an eagle with Miller and company, I was utterly blown away by Joe Cocker, who is bringing his blue-eyed soul voodoo back to South Florida Saturday, at Pompano Beach Amphitheatre. His gritty growl is even grittier than it was back in the day of The Letter, Unchain My Heart and Feelin’ Alright, and even though he’s sort of paunchy and sweaty, his intensity is… yes, I’m about to say this…. dead sexy.

Seriously. During You Can Leave Your Hat On, which is a right naughty little ditty about… umm, leaving your hat on and nothing else, I caught a bunch of ladies (OK, myself included) wriggling out of their seats and doing one of those joyous arms-in-the-air dances, and perhaps imaging pre-boxing Mickey Rourke in 9 1/2 Weeks, in which it was featured. And by the time Cocker got to You Are So Beautiful, there was weeping. No joke. Slow dancing in the aisles and weeping. Miller, who is one of your SunFest headliners, was awesome. But I didn’t see anybody weeping during The Joker.

Quick hits:

Maureen McGovern is still at The Colony on Palm Beach next week though April 25, so if you didn’t stop in this week to see her versions of The Times, They Are A’ Changin’ and Fire and Rain, plus a bunch of sad songs that were in disaster movies, here’s your chance.

I’m not sure what specific stars are aligning over South Florida on Thursday, but apparently they’re the ones that govern classic music stars. On the same night, you’ve got Tom Jones and his hips at the Kravis Center, Fleetwood Mac and their melodious historical drama at BankAtlantic Center, and Smokey Robinson and his voice and bewitching eyes. How to choose?

I’ve never seen Smokey live, but I did see him a few weeks back singing to Joss Stone on American Idol, which, given their massive age difference, would have been creepy if it weren’t Smokey Robinson. He’s still got it, and he also had great advice for the kiddies, although they didn’t all take it (I’m looking at you, Danny Gokey).