Amy Winehouse at the Mobos. Photograph: Jo Hale/Getty
After a night beset by big-name no-shows, organisational missteps, lackluster performances and another predictable winners' list, it seems easy to conclude that the 12-year-old MOBO Awards, celebrated last night at the O2 arena, have finally passed their sell-by date. But the too-often beleaguered institution still has a role to play - if it can find some additional courage to bolster what seem to remain a laudable set of convictions.
The apparent failure to secure the necessary paperwork to allow co-host Shaggy to present the show was entirely avoidable, and gave the impression of an organisation stretched beyond its capabilities. Britain's black music infrastructure receives precious little investment from the big corporations who help the rest of the music business function, and the MOBOs are forced to tread a precarious line between the scale of their ambition and what are obviously rather more modest resources. Even a cursory glance at the list of sponsors shows that this is a rather more homespun affair than the BRITs or the Grammys: you don't get taxi services or one-site restaurants underwriting categories at most internationally resonant award shows. That the MOBOs go as far on so much less economic fuel is remarkable, but the time may have come to rein in some of the over-reaching ambition.
The temptation to think big, book the starriest names and hope that the resultant media profile attracts sponsors with deeper pockets in future years is understandable, but this year's show surely proves that the model has failed. The Shaggy visa kerfuffle, 50 Cent's cancellation and Amy Winehouse's desultory, through-the-motions performance (in stark contrast to her turn at the Mercury Prize ceremony, which suggests that she has her own personal award-show hierarchy) enforce a notion of shambolic organisation and second-rate interest from the stars the MOBOs have decided to court. There won't be many FTSE 100 companies getting on the phone to Kanya King to secure naming rights for 2008 this morning.
The desire to put on a lavish show, to compete with the Americans on their own terms, to show that Britain's black music industry is worthy of comparison with its big brother over the pond, is entirely understandable: but it defies the reality of the situation. Britain is still no nearer to having a viable black music infrastructure than when Ms King decided to try to tackle that problem by shining a light on it over a decade ago. Indeed, with the cessation of publication of the venerable Blues & Soul magazine, parity with guitar-based rock music may be an even more distant goal.
What the MOBOs have been consistently good at is giving publicity to artists who might not otherwise get it. The Best Newcomer win for N-Dubz and Soweto Kinch's triumph in the Jazz category - and King's speech about gun crime - show that the MOBOs are still hugely important. There isn't much glamour in lauding unknown acts, bigging-up stars of commercially marginal genres or talking about the problems black British music is so good at identifying - but someone really ought to be doing it.
This, in large part, is why the MOBOs were created: and it is to this blueprint that the show should return, to refresh itself, rebuild its credibility and prestige, and remind audiences, sponsors and organisers of its proper place and purpose. It is a longer, harder means of moving forward than throwing a big party and hoping the Yanks turn up: but that approach is not only failing, it threatens to undermine the achievements the awards have made. The MOBOs may be more necessary now than when they were first instigated: but unless they rediscover their sense of purpose, it won't be long before everyone switches off.
