The BET Awards, that annual televised spectacle where America pats itself on the back for its cultural exports, was this year held hostage by a pair of perfidious Albion’s finest: Teyana Taylor and Lauryn Hill. Yes, you read that correctly. The woman who once declared herself ‘the queen of R&B’ and the woman who hasn’t released an album since the Clinton administration teamed up to remind everyone that true talent knows no borders. In a ceremony otherwise stuffed with autotuned nonentities and choreographed chaos, their performance was a masterclass in restraint, soul, and the kind of raw vocal power that makes you wonder why we bother with anything else.
But the real kick in the teeth for American exceptionalism was the dominance of British music exports. From Dua Lipa’s laser-guided pop to Ed Sheeran’s ginger troubadour act, UK artists walked away with enough hardware to make a Brexiteer weep with misplaced pride. The irony was delicious: while the US media wrings its hands over the decline of ‘real music’, their own awards show was being won by people who say ‘colour’ and ‘centre’ without irony. One might almost call it a cultural coup, if one were given to hyperbole. Which I am.
Teyana Taylor, draped in something that looked like a glamorous bin bag, delivered her set with the cool precision of a woman who knows she is better than the occasion. Lauryn Hill, dressed as if she’d just wandered in from a protest in 1998, still managed to summon the ghost of the Miseducation and make it dance. Together, they were a reminder that the BET Awards could be about artistry rather than branding. But why start now?
Meanwhile, the British contingent, resplendent in their stiff upper lips and sensible shoes, accepted their awards with a grace that only seems polite. Dua Lipa, whose hits are designed to be played at maximum volume in nightclubs you can’t afford, gave a speech thanking her fans and her label, which is the pop star equivalent of thanking your dealer. Ed Sheeran, fresh from his latest stadium filler, took home an award for something or other. Does it matter? The point is that British music, for all its rain-soaked melancholy and obsession with class, is still better at being popular than the Americans.
And yes, I am aware that Teyana Taylor and Lauryn Hill are not British. But their presence, coupled with the UK’s trophy haul, felt like a statement: the Empire strikes back. Not with gunboats or colonialism, but with melody and style. Take that, Yankee Doodle.
In conclusion, the BET Awards were a triumph for British music exports, a gentle reminder that Teyana Taylor and Lauryn Hill are still forces of nature, and a devastating indictment of everything else. The future of music is British, or at least it should be. Unless you’re into mumble rap. In which case, I can’t help you.
Yours in gin-soaked outrage,
Barnaby ‘Biff’ Thistlethwaite
