It’s been said before and I’ll say it again: The Grammys are lame.

So much for the obvious. But every year, like Japanese talk shows, George Bush, midget tossing and Michael Jackson, they’re hard not to watch.

We all know it’s a big fat pat on the back. An industry love letter to itself – in this case a stubbornly desperate industry painfully at odds with the Digital Age.

So why watch? Maybe it’s the spectacle. The overkill. The cheese. The bling. The sheer comedy and majesty of it all.

Then there’s the obvious coup: It’s not every year The Police agree to appear on the same stage together (Last time I saw them: Halloween night 1983. Why I was dressed like Gene Simmons, I have no idea). Apparently, they’ve kissed and made up (was it Sting and Copeland or Copeland and Summers who had the biggest beef?).

When you stand to pull in around $350 million on tour this summer, the only question is, why can’t we all just get along? Their reunion alone – more than 20 years in the making – will sucker even the most jaded DIY indie-rock supremacists into flipping it on for at least the first 5-10 minutes tonight.

Also worth noting: The Grammys have a chance to be socially conscious for a change. All voters have to do is toss a bone to anti-war/anti-prez albums by the Dixie Chicks, Bruce Springsteen, Slayer, Neil Young and UB40.

Every year, we hear the same question: Are the Grammys obsolete?

I ask you this: Is roadkill obsolete?

Let’s blog and see:

7:45 p.m.
Random red-carpet pageantry:
Has Pink lost weight?
Look! Paula Abdul, oddly lucid…
Miss Universe is no Miss USA…
Gee, Big Boi’s got a big earring…

Uh, am I really watching this?!?!

8 p.m.
Roxanne!!! The Police, blonde or gray, look happy. Sting still has the bulging veins in his neck, must be the tantra. One song and that’s it? And they decide to re-interpret it, breaking it down in the middle for a free-style, slow-tempo “Roxanne, Roxanne, Roxanne.”

8:05
Holy grampa — Tony Bennett don’t forget Stevie Wonder before you walk up the stairs to collect best pop collaboration. Did Tony really just name-drop Target? This is crap….

8:15
Joan Baez, classy in all black, introduces the Dixie Chicks for a super-polished, over-produced orchestral version of “I’m Not Ready to Make Nice” — where’s the venom? Guitarist Emily Robison is under the impression this is a Robert Palmer video.

8:25 p.m.
Prince in an all-white suit and bug-eye glasses, vociferous as ever, introduces Beyonce, who looks great, with white flowers in her hair. But the song falls limp in less than 15 seconds. What would it be like without loads of effects on her vocals?

8:27 p.m.
Mary J. Blige wins for best R&B album. Love those inch-long eye-lashes and real-life sniffles. First two God and Jesus references of the night. The album has helped her “grow into a better human being” = Standing O.

8:30
Sneak peek of the 3 unsigned artists competing to duet with Justin Timberlake. First time we realize that the East Coast has done all the last minute voting (turns out voting was cut off at 7 p.m. Pacific).

8:35
Justin Timberlake hides behind his piano before jumping up, grabbing a cheap, hand-held camera to do his best “Blair Witch” rendition. Seriously, the budget is so low this year, the singer has to play cameraman, too.

8:40
Not again! Mary J. Blige wins Female R&B Vocal Performance. Her lashes are growing. Two more religious references (Night total=4).

8:48
Corinne Bailey Rae sings the first truly heartfelt (as if, like, you were almost at a concert) moment of the evening. Her Johns (Mayer and Legend) join her on stage. I’m sorry but no matter how much John Mayer distorts his face, a la Clapton, for a guitar solo, all I hear is “Your Body is a Wonderland.”

9:05
Let it be known, once again: Shakira can’t sing worth a damn, but god can she shake it. My viewing partner wants to know, is she double-jointed? By far the best choreography of the night, sealed when Wyclef Jean does a back handspring.

9:10
Wow, Grammy voters have a heart, or a conscience or a brain. For once, they’re like almost socially conscious. The Dixie Chicks win song of the year. “For the first time in my life, I’m speechless,” says singer Natalie Maines. Get it – hardy har! G.W., you awake? For any label that doesn’t know it already: Rick Rubin is worth every cent.

9:18
Check out Captain Cee-Lo! Chubby cheeks is decked out in aviator gear and aviator shades (last time I saw him he took the stage in an astronaut outfit at the New Year’s Eve Eve ball in SF). Midway through, Gnarls Barkley slows it down for a drum march (rat-a-tat-tat) through “Crazy.” Can’t figure out what the back-up singers are wearing — tarmac jumpsuits?

9:25
After winning best rap album, Ludacris makes a stunning realization: “All I had to do was cut my hair to win a Grammy.” Coolio are you listening? Judging how superficial the night has been, it could be true – it’s all about the locks. But, get this, he wants to thank Oprah and Bill O’Reilly. Detect any sarcasm?

9:38
It’s high school all over again: If you don’t stand up for Mary J. Blige (yet again!), you’re uncool. You guessed it, another Standing O.

9: 42
The Dixie Chicks seem winded. Kudos to whoever votes for this stuff. They win for best country album and this time Maines says, “To quote the Simpsons (which I missed because of this crap!), hee-hee-ar!”

“A lot of people just turned their TV off right now.”

If only.

9:49
Get ready for Eagles overload. It’s not enough that every person in the world owns a copy of the greatest hits album. Or that Rascal Flatts singer Gary Le Vox sounds like a mouse singing “Hotel California.” By the time Carrie Underwood hops on board for “Life in the Fast Lane,” if we never hear the Eagles again (radio, you listening?), life is worth living.

10 p.m.
Holy Ornette Coleman!!!

10:02
I don’t care if Carrie Underwood wins for best new artist, the Imogen Heap chick is wearing a salad on her head!!! Fresh Choice never looked so tasty…

10:05
Best song of the night so far: The Scorpions singing “Rock You Like A Hurricane” in the “Blades of Glory” commercial.

10:09
Someone, please introduce Smokey Robinson to a nice suit. Take a good look at that moth-eaten lace shirt!

Turns out it’s a totally random excuse to showcase three generations of R&B. Next up, Lionel Richie, who refuses to dance on the ceiling. Hello, is it me you’re looking for?

Chris Brown brings it up to the present, wearing a skeleton mask…it’s Halloween in February! Seriously, he’s wearing a mask…I have no idea why, then he does a back flip off a trampoline and it all makes sense.

The audience says: Another Standing-O.

10: 14
This is the point where you have to ask yourself, who would I choose for a James Brown tribute? If you were insane enough to answer Christina Aguilera, you’re right. Best moment: B&W footage of the Hardest Working Man in Show Business (note: have they buried that dude yet?). She proves it once and for all: It’s a man’s world.

10:30
Ludacris segues into James Blunt…like one commercial into another….is it over yet? Please??? Is there no God? (fifth religious reference of the night)

10:53
Who’s going to be the lucky gal to sing a duet with Justin Timberlake (doing his best Billy White Shoes Johnson)? Turns out Robyn Troup, a young Beyonce in training, is the lucky unsigned winner.

Crowd shot: John Mayer looks barely alive, much less awake.

10: 57
Uh, why’s Quentin Tarantino presenting best record? And with Tony Bennett?

Crowd shot: Danger Mouse half-asleep.

Holy 180: Dixie Chicks win again (Shrub are you awake?), this time for record of the year. At first it seems like they’re not letting Natalie Maines near the mike. Then she breaks in to say, “I’ve got nuttin’ clever. I’m all out of jokes.”

You swear? Is it finally over?

11:05
Not until the Red Hot Chili Peppers take the stage, with Flea in a bright yellow soccer uniform and headband. I don’t care what any teen queen says, Anthony Keidis can’t hold a long note. Sound is horrible. Horrendous. The Peppers haven’t mattered since “Blood Sugar Sex Magik.” Cue the confetti. And the “Love to Ornette Coleman” sign onstage. Yes, Will Ferrell’s still behind the drums.

11:15
Then it gets surreal: Al Gore shows up with Queen Latifah. Tipper, are you out there? Censors? You guessed it, best rock album. Midway through the nominee roll call: Did Tom Petty really put out an album this year? The Red Hot Chili Peppers win for what is easily their worst album ever, aka “Stadium Arcadium.”The real winner: Rick Rubin, aka King of the World.

11:23
Even more surreal: Scarlett Johansson (hard at work on a Tom Waits cover album) takes the stage with Don Henley (because what we need is more Eagles!) for the best banter of the night.

“You got any advice?” she asks.

Don: “No.”

Then they — seriously that was the gist of the exchange — announce a Dixie Chicks sweep.

The circle is complete: The Dixie Chicks have gone from pariahs to prizewinners.

Dubya, are ya still awake?

If so, Maines wants to tell you something: “I’m ready to make nice.”

Right. And I’m ready to watch another three hours……is it over?