Pobody's Nerfect in Australia: Screw Rock 'n' Roll live-blogs the ARIA awards.

Like the Grammys, but Homer Simpson's never won one.

When I live-blogged my first listen to Radiohead's In Rainbows I said that I hadn't live-blogged anything before because big (read: foreign) award shows don't usually get broadcast live in Australia, and blogging a show after it's been extensively covered in the news already doesn't have the same excitement. Also, I said, I'm not a big fan of award shows. Well, I'm still not a big fan of award shows, but tonight Australia's Channel 10 is broadcasting the Australian Recording Industry Association (ARIA) awards live, so I thought I'd take a shot at doing the minute-by-excruciating-minute live award show coverage thing. Those of you who aren't Australian will probably have no idea what I'm talking about, but consider that payback for last week where every internet publication in existence devoted itself to covering a bunch of bands no one had ever heard of play a bunch of shows I couldn't see in a city on the other side of the world. (Yeah, I'm sure CMJ was a blast for everyone there, but it doesn't make for thrilling reading if you're not in New York City.)

The ARIA award: Can also be used as a prison shiv.

The ARIA awards can reductively but accurately be described as the Australian version of the Grammys. It tends to be a nigh unbearable affair that takes Australia's predilection for self-congratulatory hyperbole about its own culture to an extreme, a full night devoted to the kind of absurd kneejerk rejection of the cultural cringe that sees normally sane music journalists decide that Silverchair's Daniel Johns is a pop genius. I'm not kidding.

So, yes, this night will probably be awful, but I'm watching, nevertheless. Perhaps I have some slight patriotic hope that a night devoted to the local industry patting itself on the back will also produce some great moments. Ah, optimism...

8.35 p.m.: Speaking of Silverchair, that's them opening the night. They're performing "Straight Lines," the first single from their terrible new album Young Modern. "Straight Lines" works though, because its the one track that isn't undermined by overblown, over-complex arrangements. Daniel Johns voice starts cracking as he strains for the high notes, and the effect is quite pleasing. He's still acting like a self-important little shit. Nothing against artists who take themselves seriously, but in Johns' case, the more seriously he takes himself, the worse his music gets.

8.39 p.m.: He's got a nice shiny suit though. Apparently "Straight Lines" is the highest selling single of the year in Australia.

8.40 p.m.: After a montage of artists I couldn't give a shit about, we're introduced to the host for apparently the 21st ARIA award ceremony. It's Rove McManus, a blandly inoffensive comedian, tonight show host, and host of the Australian version of Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?. So, Leno crossed with Jeff Foxworthy. Rove was onced mixed up with Karl Rove by Kim Beazley, who was Leader of the Opposition at the time. That downgraded Beazley's political condition from critical to terminal. He was quickly replaced by Kevin Rudd, who is on track to become Prime Minister next month. That sequence of events almost made Rove worth caring about. Rove warns artists against "exposing themselves," though he says he'll make an exception for Daniel Johns. Uh.... OK.

8.43 p.m.: Rove likes Gotye's name. His monologue is not amusing, but it's short. Thank god for that at least.

8.47 p.m.: Operator Please win Best Breakthrough Single for "Just a Song About Ping Pong." I hate the song, but these kids are kind of alright, because they're about sixteen, and look like they're twelve. They seem pretty overwhelmed to have won, and display none of their irritating exuberance when they accept their award.

8.47 p.m.: Sneaky Sound System are up for Best Breakthrough artist, so that means they'll win it. And they do. They deserve it I guess. I wish I liked these guys more. They're a catchy electro pop band, and their lead singer, Connie Mitchell, sung on Kanye West's "Can't Tell Me Nothing." Unfortunately, the melodies never interest me, so I'm completely ambivalent about their radio dominance.

Sneaky Sound System: not as obnoxious as they look.

8.58 p.m.: Sneaky Sound System are performing. Mitchell is turning in a pretty good performance, and "Pictures" is sounding pretty good. Just a little more disco-y thank usual. When Mitchell ditches the other guys and goes solo, I might decide I care about her.

8.59 p.m.: Sneaky Sound System morphs "Pictures" into "U.F.O." which isn't that difficult, because they're basically the same song.

9.00 p.m.: Rove says Operator Please has been outsourced to India. Oh, god. Shut up.

9.01 p.m.: Someone I don't know called Megan Gale is introducing the nominees for best country album. Australian country is almost never any good, so I don't partiularly care. Keith Urban wins, which was the right pick; he's competent, while everyone else is cringe-inducing.

9.03 p.m.: After the commercial, the guys from Australian political stunt comedy act (if that's the best way to describe them) The Chaser will be on. These guys recently got arrested because they got some SUVs together, pretended to be a Canadian motorcade, and drove up to George W. Bush's hotel dressed like Osama Bin Laden. Their TV show is called "The Chaser's War on Everything." It would be not at all their style to avoid doing something contentious. Cross fingers.

9.08 p.m.: Uh... they're poking fun at Shannon Noll. And they pun on "Best Urban," award, calling it the "Best Turban" award. Lame, guys.

9.10 p.m.: Dully competent hip hop act Hilltop Hoods win. It's not even for a new album; it's for their last album re-recorded with a symphony orchestra, an idea as bad in execution as it is in conception. Australian hip hop lost. Not that it was going to win anyway.

9.12 p.m.: John Butler wins best independent release, for yet another album of Jack-Johnson-with-left-wing-political-statements.

9.14 p.m.: John Butler begins his thank youspeech by recognizing the traditional owners of the land, that is, the local Aboriginal people, whose name I missed. I can't fault the sentiment, but Butler still sounds like a useless hippie saying it. An Australian rock star with a predilection for vague, feel-good left wing sloganeering? Look for this dude to enter Parliament in 20 years.

9.22 p.m.: Kate Miller-Heidke is playing. She's classically-trained, which means she sings in a high voice. She's "eccentric," which means she wears a big, bright yellow dress. This is awful. Think the worst aspects of Tori Amos crossed with the worst aspects of Nellie McKay. I'm getting a cup of tea. Excuse me.

Kate Miller-Heidke: Having bad hair makes her quirky.

9.27 p.m.: Darren Hayes says he has a gay-crush on Natalie Basingthwaite. He's an incredible pop star, except for his music. He gives the award for best pop release to Sarah Blasko, which says something about the state of Australian pop music. Really, I'd rather it went to Missy Higgins, whom I utterly loathe. At least Higgins knows what a melody is.

9.34 p.m.: Rove is blathering again, but that's probably just because he wants to avoid introducing Claire Bowditch, one of an ever-increasing cast of interchangeable folky singer-songwriters.

9.36 p.m.: Bowditch gives John Butler Trio the award for Best Blues and Roots Album. Butler allows his Trio to talk. Bad move, John.

9.37 p.m.: Powderfinger's up next, which is a relief, because this night has been even more mediocre than I anticipated. Powderfinger are not a stunning band, but they have a workmanlike consistency and ordinariness that has made them something like the biggest act in the country. They're not always exciting, but they do have a knack for writing good choruses. I don't know this song that they're performing - I didn't spend much time with their new album, because it seemed to further the band's downward slide - and unfortunately, it doesn't have the emotional heft Powderfinger's best material has. I'm guessing the song is called "Lost and Running," because that's what the choir is singing during the chorus. Powderfinger is the type of band that can sound entirely ordinary even while engaging in such a blatantly cliched rock star move like performing with a gospel choir.

9.49 p.m.: Dave Hughes makes jokes about rock stars and night-clubbers taking drugs. Original. Since his comedy is based on him yelling in a voice that suggests he's mentally impaired, it doesn't work. He gives Sneaky Sound System the award for Best Dance Release, and fortunately, gets the fuck off the stage. Meanwhile, Sneaky Sound System are gradually endearing themselves to me.

9.53 p.m.: The Divinyls are giving best rock release to one of five artists who all sound like AC/DC. Airbourne sounds the most like AC/DC. This is pathetic. Divinyls are acting like they're completely drug-fucked, or they actually are completely drug-fucked. Huh... Silverchair won. I didn't notice that they were nominated. Since they don't sound like they're ripping off AC/DC, I guess I approve.

9.56 p.m.: Silverchair takes far too long with their acceptance speech, but no one in Australia is going to tell them to hurry it up, because that would be treasonous or something. Because he's up on stage too long, Daniel Johns decides he has to act like a cunt, so he drapes himself over Chris Joannou while Joannou rattles off a bunch of names nobody cares about.

10.03 p.m.: A voiceover tells us how much foreigners care about Australian music, which is important to Australians, because we can't bear to think that the world is ignoring us. Apparently Eskimo Joe and Missy Higgins having been to America. Thrilling, huh? An Australian band with passports? Shit, they'll be bigger than 50 Cent if they keep that sort of thing up.

10.05 p.m.: The fascinating thing about Missy Higgins is that she becomes more like Delta Goodrem just while Goodrem is trying to distance herself from mannered piano ballads. This kind of stately ballad is miles removed from the bouncy pop songs she made her name on.

10.07 p.m.: Higgins is up on some kind of platform, and she tells Rove she did a lot of research before the show to make sure no one could see up her skirt. Uh, good move?

10.08 p.m.: Rove tells us the Wiggles won Best Children's Release, and says that Captain Feathersword has had some work done. Also, Rove says Feathersword's real name is Gotye, a joke that didn't work at the beginning of the show. Is this really the best host ARIA could come up with?

Rove McManus: like Karl Rove, but not as funny.

10.13 p.m.: For a bunch of high school kids, Operator Please look pretty comfortable on stage. It doesn't make their song any better though. I panned it when it was on the Singles Jukebox a while back, and I stand by that evaluation.

10.16 p.m.: Hamish (Blake) and Andy (Lee) are presenting the ARIA for Best Group. They're actually funny; Rove must be furious to be upstaged like this. They should have got Hamish to host this thing. Silverchair wins. That's a shame, because it means Hamish has to leave, and Hamish has been the best part of the night by far.

10.19 p.m.: For someone who has done absolutely nothing at all tonight, they sure are hyping Gotye. True, he is one of the more interesting artists at the show tonight. Polite electronic indie rock mightn't be the most avant garde thing any more, but when most of these bands act like making music with anything but guitars is somehow obscene, he's a welcome diversion.

10.24 p.m.: I wonder why the Veronicas haven't been on yet. They performed for the red carpet thing before the show started (Sorry, no coverage because I didn't realize it was on until it was almost over), but I would have hoped they'd perform for the actual show. Their new single is really kind of growing on me, even though I didn't like their robot-rock direction initially.

10.27 p.m.: Gotye is performing. His song sounds like he's spent too much time listening to the Big Chill soundtrack, but he actually does a passable Motown voice. The result is quietly charming. Gotye is a drummer, so when they release balloons from the ceiling, he has to push them out of his way while he's playing. Not the most thought-through stunt. That's the thing about the ARIAs - the show is done on the cheap, so no exciting Grammy-esque stage set-ups.

10.30 p.m.: Ben Lee and Delta Goodrem are actually bantering, which is kind of neat, because no one has really done that lame award show introduction thing thus far ("The star of the Blue Lagoon, and me, the Blue-Haired goon!") Missy Higgins is apparently the best female artist. Whatever.

10.33 p.m.: Delta Goodrem is putting no effort into her banter at all. Come on, Delta. That's no way to use those Neighbours-honed acting skills.

10.34 p.m.: Gotye wins Best Male Artist. Shit, they really are sucking his dick tonight.

10.35 p.m.: Gotye looks a bit like DJ Qualls. Classic bedroom producer features. And I say that as a bedroom producer myself.

Kylie Minogue: Skipped the ARIAs to do the Locomotion in front of her bathroom mirror.

10.37 p.m.: Nick Cave is going to be inducted into the ARIA Hall of Fame. Good, but seriously, why hadn't they done that years ago? Kylie Minogue wishes she could be with us. But you've got better things to do, Kylie? I don't blame you. It's a shock to see actual decent artists on my TV screen.

10.44 p.m.: John Butler and Keith Urban's performance is more John Butler than Keith Urban. That's a shame. Urban's slick country is at least tolerable, something Butler's never been. Is there anything more useless than Roots music? Seriously, if blues etc. is good enough for anyone to pay attention to, it doesn't get called Roots music. No one calls Son House roots music. This particular ghetto is for white guys who have aspirations of being "earthy."

10.52 p.m.: Nick Cave wants to get some things straight. He wants to know why he's getting the award and the Bad Seeds aren't. He sounds pretty terrifying saying it, too. He's going to induct the Bad Seeds himself, he says. Nick Cave is more entertaining than every single other act to this point. Also, by the "power invested in [him]," he's inducting the Birthday Party. I like this. Cave should just induct anyone he feels like. He thanks his mother. Induct her, too, Nick!

Nick Cave will induct whoever the fuck he feels like into the ARIA Hall of Fame.

10.59 p.m.: Architecture in Helsinki's "Heart it Races" is up for single of the year. This is actually a good song. I don't like their chances, but I'd love someone I genuinely approve of to win at least one award tonight (Nick Cave's HOF doesn't count). But, no, Silverchair win. I guess it could be worse: Wolfmother were nominated.

11.00 p.m.: Daniel Johns needs to get off the stage right now. Surely I'm not the only one wanting to punch him. How can he possibly sound like such a cunt when all he's doing is thanking a list of people?

11.02 p.m.: Finally it's time to hand out Album of the Year and end this thing. The nominees are Sneaky Sound System, Silverchair, Powderfinger, Gotye and John Butler. None of them excite me much. Silverchair wins, which means we have to endure Daniel Johns again. What a shitty night.

11.03 p.m.: Daniel Johns calls someone "bee-yatch." I don't know how the rest of the band can stand to be around him. Silverchair shout out "Australian music" which rather encapsulates the problem with this entire night: it celebrates music based on its Australian-ness, with little regard as to whether it's actually good or not.

11.05 p.m.: And it's over. Thank god. Now why did I think this would be a good idea?

Incidentally, I would have given Australian Album of the Year to Beasts of Bourbon's Little Animals, and Single of the Year to "I Don't Care About Nothing Anymore," also by Beasts of Bourbon. "No Pussy Blues" by Grinderman and "Heart it Races" by Architecture in Helsinki would have been equally worthy contenders, though.