As if by market research

In the 1990s, the Russian conceptual art team Komar and Melamid created a bunch of paintings based on extensive market research, asking people from various countries what they favored. America's "most wanted" painting was a watery landscape featuring wistful children, deer and George Washington. Komar and Melamid parted ways in 2003, but not before also creating (with composer Dave Soldier) a "most wanted" pop song, a discouraging mix of quiet storm R&B and roadhouse rock.

Confronted by this year's Grammy nominations -- especially the four "general field" categories -- I wondered if Komar and Melamid had reunited. The list abounds with deserving contenders, some expected, some from beyond left field. It shows discernment and even a bit of daring on the part of the Recording Academy. But as an indicator of how music is currently operating as a unifying force or even a simple pleasure, it's a disconcertingly ersatz mix.

Album of the year offers the strangest grouping by far. It's weird because it feels so calculated. Those included are all utterly deserving -- in fact, the biggest surprises, Vince Gill and Herbie Hancock, are as classy as Grammy nominees get. But the sharing of the bill among those two artists and Kanye West, the Foo Fighters and Amy Winehouse represents a fantasy iPod playlist that turns the idea of eclecticism from an adventure into something, well, preprogrammed.

Gill is a well-loved country gentleman whose four-disc "These Days" was a self-generated encyclopedia of the genre. West is hip-hop's official maverick, known for mouthing off but not for getting arrested. The Foo Fighters, fronted by the notoriously nice Dave Grohl, have turned alt-rock into classic rock.

Winehouse is an indisputable vocal talent whose personal troubles often overshadow the essential conservatism of her "retro" soul style. And Hancock is a jazz pathfinder whose outstanding "River: The Joni Letters" nonetheless offers many listeners a nostalgia trip, since it reworks the music of fellow baby boomer royal Joni Mitchell. Hancock is the George Washington in this painting, the unexpected figure who, when you think about it, has the bearing and the historical weight to make him inevitable.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with this bunch. That's what's a bit maddening about it. In the past, the Grammys have often been accused of pandering to the milquetoast mainstream, its endorsements of bland balladeers causing groans among serious fans and critics. More recently, a broader-based nominating committee has made for some spicier nominees -- the hip-rock duo Gnarls Barkley, a double winner last year, was one such happy choice.