NOISE: Grammy schlammy, part I: the big, bad daddy of rock 'n' roll


Well, guess who got credentials to cover the Grammys on Feb. 11? Sure, I had a 12-hour chunk of Sunday to spare, so I drove down to Staples Center in LA and planted myself in the radio/TV pit to fire questions at the hapless Ike Turker. The man has the most powerful gaze in show biz.


The Ikester certainly dressed to impress. In a sea of Dixie Chicks and media working-stiffs in no-risk black and hip-hop stars in tasteful suits and untucked white shirts, Turner, who took home his first Grammy since 1972 for Best Traditional Blues Album, pushed the edges of good taste with a glittery lavender suit and a pink nehru collar shirt.

Love's got nothing to do with it - maybe. Courtesy of

“I was hoping I wouldn’t win tonight, but next year,” he said backstage, describing his next album as a blues-hip-hop recording. “But I did.”

What does it mean, one intrepid reporter asked the man who wrote the first rock ‘n’ roll song, “Rocket 88.”

Turner furrowed his brow and trained a bad-ass glower in her direction, producer and son Ike Jr. by his side: “I dunno. It means that I’m still livin’.”

More excerpts from a Grammy reporter's notebook to come...