Sunday, February 1, 2026

Grammys 2026: Clipse Win First Award, Lamar Dominates, Bad Bunny Breaks Barriers

Kendrick Lamar accepts the award for best rap album for “GNX” during the 68th annual Grammy Awards on Sunday at Crypto.com Arena in Los Angeles. (Photo by Kevin Winter/Getty Images for The Recording Academy)
The 68th Annual Grammy Awards wasn’t just a ceremony; it was a coronation, a correction, and — thanks to a confused Cher — a reminder that the establishment still stumbles even when it tries to get it right. On a night where history was rewritten, Kendrick Lamar didn’t just take home hardware; he took the throne.

Lamar is now officially the most-awarded hip-hop artist in Grammy history. With a five-win sweep that included best rap album for “GNX” and best rap song for the Lefty Gunplay-assisted “TV Off,” the Compton visionary brought his career total to 27, surpassing the long-standing record of 25 held by Jay-Z.

His victory lap was anchored by the night’s heavy hitter, record of the year, for “Luther.” The track, a soulful collaboration with SZA built around a sample of Luther Vandross and Cheryl Lynn’s “If This World Were Mine,” provided the evening’s emotional center — and its most meme-able error. Presenting the award, icon Cher seemed to glitch, announcing the winner simply as “Luther Vandross,” momentarily confusing the room into thinking the late crooner had won from the afterlife. Lamar took the slip-up in stride, keeping his acceptance speech brief and reverent: “Luther forever.”

But beyond Lamar’s statistical dominance, the night belonged to the global expansion of the sound. In a moment that finally shattered the industry’s thickest glass ceiling, Bad Bunny took home album of the year for “Debí Tirar Más Fotos,” becoming the first artist to win the top prize with a Spanish-language album.

Visibly moved, the Puerto Rican superstar used his time at the podium to deliver a pointed message to the diaspora. Before thanking God, he started his speech with a sharp directive: “ICE out.” Dedicating the trophy to “anyone worldwide who has ever needed to leave their home or somewhere they love in order to achieve their dreams,” he reminded the room that “we are humans, we are not aliens.”

While the telecast focused on the current kings, the Academy also finally bowed to the ancestors. In a special presentation, the lifetime achievement award was bestowed upon Afrobeat pioneer Fela Kuti during Grammy Week’s Special Merit Awards. The Nigerian multi-instrumentalist, who spoke truth to power until his death in 1997, became the first African artist to receive the honor. His son, Femi Kuti, accepted the award, offering a quote that bridged the gap between the man and the myth: “The older I get, I see that he wasn’t the conventional father, he was everybody’s father.”

Back on the main stage, the night delivered a long-overdue check to the street rap architects. After decades of grinding and defining the “luxury realism” of the genre, Clipse finally claimed their first-ever Grammy. Pusha T and No Malice won best rap performance for “Chains & Whips,” a standout from their reunion album “Let God Sort Em Out.”

The track, which features Lamar and production from Pharrell Williams, was a validation of a legacy that has influenced everyone from Tyler, the Creator to the very man who broke the record that night.

R&B also saw a changing of the guard, as Leon Thomas — the songwriter-turned-star — capped off a breakout year by winning best R&B album for “Mutt.” In true chaotic creative fashion, Thomas arrived just in time to collect the trophy, proving that the genre’s future is in safe hands.

Ultimately, the 2026 Grammys will be remembered as the night the “outsiders” became the standard bearers. From Compton to Puerto Rico to Lagos to Virginia Beach, the culture wasn’t just in the building— it was running the show.

The Culture Scoreboard: 2026 Grammy Highlights

  • Album of the Year “Debí Tirar Más Fotos,” Bad Bunny
  • Record of the Year “Luther,” Kendrick Lamar and SZA
  • Best Rap Album “GNX,” Kendrick Lamar
  • Best Rap Performance “Chains & Whips,” Clipse featuring Kendrick Lamar and Pharrell Williams
  • Best Melodic Rap Performance “Luther,” Kendrick Lamar and SZA
  • Best Rap Song “TV Off,” Kendrick Lamar featuring Lefty Gunplay
  • Best R&B Album “Mutt,” Leon Thomas
  • Best R&B Performance “Folded,” Kehlani
  • Lifetime Achievement Award Fela Kuti
  • Dr. Dre Global Impact Award Pharrell Williams

Friday, January 30, 2026

Michael ‘5000’ Watts, Who Took Chopped and Screwed From Mixtapes to the Mainstream, Dies at 52

Michael “5000” Watts, the Swishahouse founder who helped take Houston’s "chopped and screwed" sound worldwide, is shown in a photo released by his family. Watts, 52, died on Friday. 
The architect of the Northside sound has transitioned, leaving behind a city forever slowed by his influence.

Michael "5000" Watts, the visionary DJ and founder of Swishahouse Records who transformed Houston’s "chopped and screwed" subculture from a trunk-sale hustle into a Billboard-topping global phenomenon, has died. He was 52.

The Watts family confirmed the loss on Friday, revealing that the hip-hop pioneer passed away on Jan. 30, 2026, at Memorial Hermann Hospital in The Woodlands. According to the family, Watts succumbed to a sudden cardiac event caused by Torsades de Pointes, a rare and fatal heart rhythm disorder. He had been hospitalized for the past week facing what loved ones described as "tremendous health issues," a battle that ended surrounded by his family.

To understand the gravity of this loss is to understand the geography of Texas rap. While the late DJ Screw originated the slowed-down "screwed" sound on the Southside, it was Watts who planted the flag on the Northside in the late 90s. He didn’t just replicate the style; he industrialized it, turning Swishahouse from a local label into a vertically integrated empire that eventually kicked down the doors of the mainstream.

Watts was an A&R genius with an ear that rivaled any major label executive. Under his stewardship, the "Swishahouse" tag became a seal of quality that launched a golden era of talent, including Slim Thug, Paul Wall, Mike Jones and Chamillionaire. His distinct voice—announcing "Remix!" over iconic tracks —became the soundtrack for a generation.

The impact of his vision was best summarized by his longtime partner and fellow Swishahouse co-founder OG Ron C, who described the loss with "profound sorrow." In a statement, Ron C framed Watts not merely as an executive, but as a "cultural architect" who reshaped the identity of the city.

"Michael '5000' Watts was more than a founder, he was a movement," the statement read. "As the creator of Swishahouse Records, he helped define the sound, spirit, and global influence of Houston hip-hop. Watts expanded on Houston's chopped and screwed legacy, transforming mixtape culture into a worldwide phenomenon and giving a platform to voices that would go on to shape an era."

That era reached its zenith in 2005, when the Swishahouse anthem "Still Tippin'" exploded nationally. It was a moment of vindication for Watts, proving that the slow, hypnotic sound of the Northside could captivate listeners from New York to Los Angeles.

Beyond the charts, Watts remained a tangible "pillar in the community," a sentiment echoed by his colleagues at 97.9 The Box, where he was a fixture on the airwaves. He was accessible, a mentor who kept his ear to the streets even after the platinum plaques arrived.

"He was a business owner, DJ, radio personality... and pillar in the community," his family noted in their official tribute, asking for continued prayers as they navigate this "very hard journey."

Watts leaves behind his wife, Tammy Watts, five children, and two grandchildren.

For those who grew up on the "The Day Hell Broke Loose" series, the silence today is deafening. Watts didn't just slow down the music; he slowed down the world long enough for everyone to appreciate the unique rhythm of Houston.

Rest in Power, 5000. The House he built stands forever.

Bryan Loren, R&B Singer and Prolific Producer, Dies at 59


The music world lost one of its most potent secret weapons this week. Bryan Loren, the multi-instrumentalist prodigy known as “The Wiz” who helped shape the sound of Michael Jackson’s "Dangerous" era and quietly co-created one of the most unlikely pop culture hits of the 1990s, has died. He was 59.

For the uninitiated, Loren was a liner-note name. For students of the groove, he was something closer to a missing link — a bridge between the lush Philly soul of the 1970s and the hard-edged "New Jack Swing" that defined the 1990s. He was a true music man: a writer, producer, singer and instrumentalist capable of building an entire record from the ground up before most artists had finished soundcheck.

Born Bryan Loren Hudson on Long Island and raised in South Philadelphia, Loren was a prodigy by any measure. By 15, he was already a working session musician at Alpha International Studios, learning under Philly legend Nick Martinelli. He brought funk and polish to Fat Larry’s Band and layered sleek textures for the vocal trio Cashmere, earning the nickname “The Wiz” for his uncanny command of synthesizers and rhythm programming.


According to Shana Mangatal, a former manager for Jackson who became close friends with Loren, the King of Pop was "stunned" to learn Loren had handled every duty himself on Shanice’s debut album “Discovery” at just 19 years old.

"His talent was on the level of Prince," Mangatal wrote in a tribute. "Truly rare."

This admiration sparked a creative brotherhood that would unfold largely behind the scenes.

In the early 1990s, Jackson was searching for a new sonic direction following “Bad.” He found it in Loren’s basement studio in Woodland Hills, California. Mangatal recalls Jackson frequently driving himself to Loren's home, where the two bonded over shared obsessions with "girls, cartoons, and life." They even spent a Thanksgiving together — just two musical geniuses trading ideas away from the corporate machinery of Sony.

Mangatal shared a revealing anecdote that underscores Loren's uncredited influence. She recalled a moment in 1993 when Jackson called her, asking to dictate lyrics for a song called "Family Thing" so she could rush them to the label.

"He kept me on the phone for nearly an hour, line by line," Mangatal said. "Later that night, I told Bryan about MJ’s call — he just laughed. He told me HE had actually written the lyrics for MJ."

While Teddy Riley would ultimately define the final New Jack Swing sheen of Dangerous, Loren was instrumental in the album’s foundation. He played drums and percussion on the finished record, but his deeper contribution lived in the sessions themselves. Songs such as “Serious Effect,” featuring LL Cool J, and “She Got It” showcased a darker, funk-driven Jackson. Another track, “To Satisfy You,” was passed over for Dangerous but reclaimed by Loren for his own 1992 album Music from the New World, with Jackson still providing background vocals.


Loren’s most subversive success, however, arrived under unlikely circumstances. In 1990, “Do the Bartman” became a global phenomenon, topping charts and fueling the height of The Simpsons mania. The song was officially credited to Loren, but it was widely understood within the industry that Jackson — a devoted fan of the show — had co-written the track. Contractual obligations prevented Jackson’s name from appearing in the credits, leaving Loren as the public face of a hit powered by one of pop’s greatest unseen collaborations.

Beyond Jackson, Loren’s fingerprints touched much of modern R&B and pop. He wrote “Feels So Good” for Whitney Houston and worked with artists including Sting, Barry White and Eric Benét.

Following his passing, Loren’s brother, Geno Dozier, offered a poignant tribute to the man behind the music.

"My brother was his father’s son… a brilliant musician who lived his life unapologetically," Dozier said. "His talent was ELITE, and his character was true."

Bryan Loren leaves behind a catalog that helped define a generational shift. He carried the soul of Philadelphia into the digital age, helping blueprint the rhythmic language of the 1990s while remaining largely invisible to the mainstream audience he influenced.

The Wiz has left the building — but the sound he helped shape is everywhere.

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