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Our reliable music editor, Tyler Barlass, summed up the 51st Grammys yesterday. Here's his take on the show. But what I found odd was that while I agreed with most of his opinions in some way, my overall view on the night's telecast was quite different. So I offer a differing perspective on music's “biggest night.”

The Grammys kicked off on the typical note for the night as a whole: disappointment. U2 gave a preview of their new album by launching through first single, “Get on Your Boots.” It was the first time I heard it and doesn't make me more hopeful that they'll snap their recent slump this year. Like their last two albums' first singles, it's a rapid rocker, but rarely gets out of second gear. And the lyrics were depressingly non-descript. The performance was even weakened by the fact that the words were broadcast on a huge screen behind the band to remind us how insipid they were. While I wouldn't quite call the act flat and uninspired, it was hardly up to the band's high standards—they can usually make all but their most unbearable songs palatable, no matter the hilariously overblown theatrics Bono is up to.

At least they weren't encumbered by other artists, though. The Grammy telecast is known for its unexpected collaborations, but the matchups that night were way more than just a little curious. When they first announced a performance by Coldplay, I snickered when it showed just Chris Martin on piano. Had he become so big that he manages to mistakenly pass himself off as the band name (like Ian Anderson is Jethro Tull, Debbie Harry is Blondie and Darius Rucker is Hootie)? But later he joined his bandmates for a quick and dependable run through of their fourth LP's title cut. But the artist mixing before that? During Martin's plain and emotional piano ballad, Jay-Z pops up and launches into a slightly subdued rap. Coldplay and Jay-Z alone aren't favorites of mine, but they're usually listenable. Together, they ended up just short of a trainwreck.

Later, Al Green was joined by Justin Timberlake, the harmonies of Boyz II Men and Keith Urban's guitar. It wasn't a bad group performance, but I'd have preferred to just let Green run ragged through his classic without Timberlake's assistance. But that melange was brilliant compared to the pairing of Stevie Wonder with the Jonas Brothers. A venerable talent saddled with those kiddies? I wouldn't be surprised if most of their fanbase knows Stevie Wonder only as that blind guy who plays a piano a lot. You know, the one who didn't die, or something. Unfair to their inexplicably large audience? Stop calling them a rock band and I'll leave them alone.

Elsewhere, Adele had her spotlight snatched away by Sugarland for no particular reason—Adele left you two alone; go away! Lil Wayne was neutered by sharing the stage with Robin Thicke (as odd a combo as any other that night), but it's hard to harp on a middling performance considering its honorable intentions (New Orleans). And I may not be a big fan of Taylor Swift, but as soon as I realized who was seated next to her, I mentally tuned out until I knew it was safe.

But I didn't tune in for those matches. What should have been one of the biggest high points of the night ended up being a good but underwhelming effort. M.I.A. earned points for showing up very pregnant (kudos to her for being able to move like that on her due date!), but she was an appetizer for the main course. Set up as the Rap Pack, Kanye West, Lil Wayne, Jay-Z and T.I. came out performing “Swagga Like Us.” It's a pretty good song and they did a solid job, but there was a glaring problem on the visual front. The screen went black & white in honor of the Rat Pack (or, Dean Martin, specifically) and the four fellas were decked out in slick evening suits. But Lil Wayne, being that free spirit he is, had to wear big sunglasses, a bigger scarf and a huge wallet chain. So much for aesthetic balance. And wasn't M.I.A. kinda wasted just going through her sampled intro that the studio version employed? I was hoping she'd break things up in the middle and go crazy. I doubt that cramps would have kept her from blowing us away.

Not all of the collaborations came up short, though. The Four Tops tribute was pretty good, but they would have had to have picked some pretty terrible talent to mess up those wonderful classics. Same goes for the Bo Diddely mash-up (but I wish B.B. King and Buddy Guy had been up there by themselves). Timberlake with T.I. made more sense than most of the other pairings and they did a respectable job (though I wanted to knock T.I.'s hat off so much...). Robert Plant and Allison Krauss were good, too, but that's not exactly a “surprising” combo. And I could never turn my nose at a performance from Paul McCartney or Dave Grohl (not content to rest on the laurels of their talents, they present themselves as honestly kind-hearted and fun-loving people), but I wish they'd picked a better song than “I Saw Her Standing There.” It's a good tune, but there are only about a hundred better Beatles cuts. I guess the fact that it wasn't an “obvious” choice should count for something, though.

The highlight of the night without a doubt was Radiohead with the marching band. I never considered “15 Step” to be one of the towering highlights from In Rainbows, but with that big percussive sound and a multitude of horns filling in the gaps midway through, they turned that leadoff track into an explosive winner. Mucking through all of the lows would have been worth it for those five minutes—I'm a big fan of the band but I was still astonished how impressive it was.

As for the awards themselves, yawn. First of all, it's been many years since I've watched more than thirty minutes of a Grammy telecast, so has it always been this way with the awards? They only show about eight of them handed out over three-and-a-half hours. If you're going to appropriately write off the worth of your award, Grammy committee, why not just do the big four and make way for more (and better) acts? And while I wasn't pissed off about any of the winners, even those few I found to be deserving elicited more shrugs than cheers. Sure, Coldplay probably deserved their Best Rock Album trophy (about on par with the Raconteurs), but only because the rest of the competition was so awful. Third place in the cluster? The Kings of Leon disc I gave a 4 out of 10. And I couldn't even tell you if Adele deserved the Best New Artist one—I've never even heard of two of the others, and we all know how I feel about the Jonas Brothers. Maybe I sound like a bitter man out of touch with the mainstream, but that's mostly because I find so much mainstream music of all genres today to be sorely lacking.

I guess that because the Grammys perhaps rightfully feel a need to include a wide-ranging group of acts, it's destined to appeal entirely to no one. Of all the styles represented, the only one I don't care for at all is what passes itself off as modern country (Kenny Chesney's ballad was tedious and I have no idea what Carrie Underwood was trying to do). But in an effort to appeal to all ages and groups, they force these ridiculous group performances that's guaranteed to annoy most music lovers out there. B.B. King and Buddy Guy? Win. Throw in John Mayer and Keith Urban? Huh? Most of the collaborations barely even read as intriguing on paper, and sound lousy in execution. If one could walk away from that evening believing that Katy Perry pulled off one of the more memorable performances just because it was pure, you know the whole system is broken.