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There is something very special about the Ivors, the music industry's favourite awards show. Everyone says it. If the British Academy of Composers and Songwriters could bottle what is special about this event, it would make a fortune.
It is an awards show which refuses to be led by fashion, to the extent that it is almost anti-fashion, as shown by the awards for EMI's much-missed Kate Bush and the label deal-less Mick Hucknall.
The Ivors have also, Canute-like, held back the tide of "progress", ensuring it is the most intimate event we have. I remember, going to my first Ivors more than 10 years ago, thinking how sad it was that such a fabulous event had such a low profile, away from the gaze of TV cameras. How wrong I was.
However, what is most special is the recipients' apparent ability to leave their egos in the cloakroom and receive their gongs with the appropriate grace. The reason is simple: instead of being honoured by an entire industry, by TV channels or corporations, the Ivors are presented by the winners' peers, the songwriters. That means everything.
Universal's Lucian Grainge is not someone who is prone to displays of modesty. If there is a more confident, ...