Beantown has historically been a hotbed of musical talent, ranging from Aerosmith to the Mighty Mighty Bosstones—and let’s not forget the town’s very own namesake, Boston.

This year proved to be no exception to this trend of dominance. The Crimson’s Marcus Wang attended the 2001 Boston Music Awards to discover the energy, the radiance, the joie de vivre behind The Hub’s music scene.

When I arrived at the 14th Annual Boston Music Awards, I pushed past the throngs of people waiting eagerly outside with their homemade banners proposing marriage to LFO and made my way to the door. The place was packed, and I was late. The next thing I knew I was being ushered to my seat. The crowd was filled with mostly younger folk, some dressed to the nines, others sporting tattoos, hair dye and metal piercings. I couldn’t help but notice the large number of women with skimpy dresses and exposed skin. I shrugged. Maybe they were warm.

Corporate sponsorship was very much in evidence that evening, with banners draped from each balcony advertising various generous sponsors. Very large speaker setups were in place on both sides of the stage. The room was filling up quickly as the start time neared.

MTV VJ Dave Holmes was the host for the evening. Funny and warm, he promised “no monologues,” instead firing off snappy one-liners as he kept the show moving as fast as he could. Thirty-eight awards were to be presented/announced that evening, honoring artists who were either born or raised in the Boston area, developed their career in the Boston area, or were currently residing in the Boston area. Kicking off the show was a live performance by American Hi-Fi, who performed their hit single “Flavor of the Week.” This was more like it. With a Nine Days-like pop rock radio-friendly sound, they stirred up the crowd with a very rousing and high-energy performance.

For me, and for most of the audience it seemed, the awards presentations were just a means of killing time between performances. The speeches were uniformly bland and unexciting, as group after group engaged in a contest to see who could kiss more corporate butt. Perhaps this was necessary from a practical survival standpoint, since most of these artists belong to unstable independent labels, but it made for extremely boring listening. Even Dave Holmes seemed to notice this, and repeatedly apologized for wearing a coat and tie to the event, saying it made him look like “an asshole stockbroker.” At least Boston pride was very much in evidence, as every group or singer made it a point to thank the good people of the city for supporting their own.

Fast-forward to C60’s performance. Loud, proud and dirty, their leader was a red dread-locked maniac with plenty of energy to spare. The crowd, myself included, seemed pathetically eager to welcome them, coming as they did on the heels of some intensely boring presentations. Fortunately, C60 didn’t disappoint, with blistering guitar attacks and wild gyrations injecting energy into a flagging atmosphere. I noticed however, that all their rebellious posturing seemed very much like a pose. Their “spontaneous” thrashing appearing self-conscious and rehearsed.