Coming off last year’s controversy around his video for “Perra,” which faced criticism due to its demeaning portrayal of Black women, and rival Residente’s recent 10-minute diss track aimed his way, J Balvin really could’ve used the Grammy stage as a space to recapture the lighthearted energy that first hurtled him to global stardom. But instead he sleepwalked through low-energy renditions of “In da Getto” (remember his #EveryLivesMatter Twitter debacle?), and “¿Qué Más Pues?” with Argentine singer Maria Becerra. Between Balvin’s exceptionally boring outfit choice (a trench coat, really?) and oversaturated lighting, he just couldn’t seem to match urbano’s momentum. And those backup dancers? Please! I thought we left the Jabbawockeez in 2008. –Gio Santiago

Nas’ haphazard nostalgia act

If this year’s Super Bowl taught us anything, it’s that turn-of-the-century rap is now being treated like classic rock. So the Grammys decided to get in on the nostalgia and flew Nas out to perform tracks from 2001’s Stillmatic and 2002’s God’s Son. Of course, it was a waste of time—a hurried medley that tried to squeeze four Nas songs into about three minutes. Who the hell wants to hear just the grating children’s choir hook from “I Can,” or just a snippet of “One Mic,” when the whole point of the song is its build? Maybe I wouldn’t be so hard on the performance if it wasn’t practically the only time we heard live rapping all night. The Oscars made time for Megan, why couldn’t the Grammys? Did the show lose Lil Baby’s number? Did they really pass up the opportunity to have Gunna pull up in the silliest outfit talking about “pushin P”? What are we doing? –Alphonse Pierre

Trevor Noah did not hit—but we’ve got ideas for his replacement

The Grammys are committed to torturing its viewers, so it makes sense that they invited last year’s host, Trevor Noah, to run it back for more edgeless, cookie-cutter jokes that might as well have been spit out by a bot. It’s impressive, in a sad way: Part of me wants to shake the hands of everyone who got paid to come up with his one-liners, because those writers are the greatest scammers since Teejayx6.

After Noah’s opening monologue—full of quips about Lil Nas being taller than Nas, if Finneas’ last name is Eilish, and, yes, The Slap—I was already at a breaking point. Then he kept going all damn night. There was one good moment, though—a call-out of musicians’ weird-ass obsession with the Bored Ape NFTs. (I know, the bar is in hell.)

Maybe the Grammys needs some suggestions for next year’s host? What about Jerrod Carmichael or Ali Wong, who know how to be intentionally funny, or even Euphoria’s Angus Cloud, aka Fezco, who knows how to be unintentionally funny. On the musician front, Doja Cat or Tyler, the Creator would certainly take the show in insane new directions if given the chance. Let’s be bold, folks. –Alphonse Pierre