Madonna has cancelled a performance of her “Madame X” show for the 10th time, in London scheduled for tonight. As I wrote over the weekend, inside sources warn that she may just cancel the rest of the tour, which has dates set for Paris after London. She is supposed to resume performances on Wednesday.

“I am deeply sorry that I have to cancel my concert scheduled for Monday January 27th in London. Under doctors guidance I have been told to rest for a few days.
As you all know, I have injuries that have plagued me since the beginning of the tour but I must always listen to my body and put my health first.
The last thing I want to do is disappoint my fans or compromise the integrity of my show.
So I will keep going until I cannot.
As always- anyone who purchased a ticket will be refunded for tickets purchased that evening.
The show on Wednesday January 29th will go as scheduled.
Again I am deeply sorry to disappoint anyone and please know that it hurts me more than you can imagine to have to cancel any shows.
Thank you again for your understanding.”

Sean P Diddy Puff Daddy Combs held forth Saturday night at Clive Davis’s dinner for 50 minutes reviewing his life and career, as well as his thoughts on the Grammys and how he says the music business has disrespected black music.

The latter isn’t true at all. The former was a Disney-fied version of a complicated life that often embraced violence.

Combs made a wild statement about Michael Jackson making “Thriller,” which won 8 Grammys, after not getting any for his previous album, “Off the Wall,” in 1979. This alone made no sense. The implication is that no black music received awards in 1979. But Donna Summer’s “Bad Girls” album was nominated for Album of the Year, and records by Summer and Earth Wind & Fire received multiple nominations in the general categories. Jackson got two nominations for his song “Don’t Stop til You Get Enough.” Why he didn’t win had nothing to do with disrespect. And four years later he became the King of Pop.

Diddy’s speech was plaintive. At one point, he was pleading “we are artists, we need awards.” But the fact is, despite his entrepreneurial success, he is not a recording artist. He can’t write or sing. His biggest hit production, “I’ll Be Missing You,” is just a reworking of Sting’s “Every Breath You Take” with a rap twist. Most of rap is based on sampling or covers. There is very little original music. Rap fans hate it when I say this, but that’s the case.

The sampling issue is important to note because those kinds of records are not going to win awards. Ariana Grande’s “7 Rings” is a good example. The whole thing is based on Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “My Favorite Things.” The little bit that’s original doesn’t constitute a whole new song.

Also, hip hip and rap tends to be full of foul language. And that’s not going to cut it. Songs themed around the f word and “bitch this, bitch that” are not going to get Grammy Awards. Hip hop awards, yes. But not mainstream accolades.

Many of the great writers of popular music were and are respected. Last night two of the very best– Alicia Keys and John Legend– were front and center. A legend, Smokey Robinson, had the Staples center audience singing along to “My Girl.” Diddy is doing them a disservice.

And then there was the sanitized version of Diddy in Wonderland. In 1999, Combs was charged with assault when he and his bodyguards walked into his office of Steve Stoute at Universal Records in midtown Manhattan on the afternoon of April 16 and severely beat him. You can click here to read Diddy’s History of Violence.

So listen, I always liked Sean Combs. He can be charming and courtly. He’s certainly been very smart in making money and marketing himself. But let’s have a major reality check. And his weird threat that the Recording Academy has 365 days to fix itself…or else? Or what? Go back to that link above.

The Grammys are in disarray, the Recording Academy is dealing with scandal, but Clive Davis’s famous annual all star pre-Grammy gala went on last night as if there were  no problems in the world. Nancy Pelosi, back from a short trip abroad, got a standing ovation and cheers. I would say she was a rock star last night, among rock stars. She received a huge standing ovation.

Both Sean Puffy Combs and Janet Jackson were honored, hundreds of celebrities showed up in the audience, and the on stage entertainment was, as Clive would say, “off the hook.”

The performers included Beck, John Legend, Faith Evans with Puffy’s All-stars, Cyndi Lauper and Brandi Carlisle, Santana with Wyclef Jean and Miguel and Ryan Tedder, Chance the Rapper, plus new sensational stars Cynthia Erivo (Oscar nominee) and Adrienne Warren, soon to be Tony nominee for “Tina, the Musical” on Broadway.

In the audience: everyone from Jay Z and Beyonce to Jamie Foxx, Joni Mitchell, Roberta Flack, Twitter founder Jack Dorsey, Dionne Warwick, Valerie Simpson, Smokey Robinson, Usher, Earth Wind and Fire, actor Michael Douglas, Keith Urban (Nicole Simpson home with cold), Swizz Beatz, Nikki Haskell, famed record producer Richard Perry, Channing Tatum and Jessie J, Lorna Luft, Elvis Costello, and so many more.

The Beverly Hilton ballroom was packed, as it is every year at this event, with so many recognizable faces from disciplines: music, movies, sports, government. The build up of excitement begins at the front entrances, which are divided between regular people, regular celebrities, industry people, and the red carpet. It’s hard to know where to look first. And kind of outstanding because I saw Barbra Streisand’s manager of 50 years, Marty Erlichman; Peter Asher,famed pop star, manager and record producer of James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt; Janet Jackson’s record producer Jimmy Jam Harris, wife Lisa and their daughter, songwriters Diane Warren and Paul Williams; talk show host Tamron Hall, NY news personality Rosanna Scotto.

And then of course, there’s Kathie Lee Gifford, radiant, glowing, telling me all about living in Nashville and planning both of her kids’ weddings this year. Producer Narada Michael Walden reminisced about Aretha, Whitney, and Mariah. Produce Jay Landers told me about two hush hush albums he’s made, which I’m sworn to secrecy on– duets albums by great stars, but no, not Barbra Streisand.

Two legendary ladies nearly collided in the hotel lobby: Roberta Flack and Joni Mitchell. Then Joni left, Usher arrived, and took more pictures with Roberta, who will be honored tomorrow with a Lifetime Achievement Award.

And I got to meet Lana del Rey, and tell her how much I loved “Norman F—ing Rockwell.” She is just lovely, and now I’m sorry I never spoke to her before.

And then there was Clive, almost 88, resplendent in a black and white tuxedo jacket made for him by Giorgio Armani, being introduced by Berry Gordy (90) and welcoming from the stage Clarence Avant, the “black Godfather,” himself 88. He called out Quincy Jones, almost 86, who made it through the whole night. Clive still has unbridled enthusiasm about people in the same room, meeting, schmoozing, reuniting, reigniting this community over which he unofficially reigns. It’s an extraordinary snapshot of the culture, devoid of color or gender or class. Maybe anthropologists will study these parties years from now. Nothing else like them exists.

It was a whirlwind of a night, keep refreshing for more later today…