Grammys 2008 Chad Kroeger, Daughtry and Slash Cover Creedence

Blender's intrepid editor-at-large, Lizzy Goodman, gives us her final star-studded report from Grammy weekend:

Saturday: Who needs the actual Grammy Awards when you have uber-mogul Clive Davis's annual pre-Grammy fete? Clive's party offers all the same perks as the Grammys: A weird mash up of attendees, bizarre collaborative performances between stars new and old — plus booze (the awards are dry). This year's performers included Clive's new Next Big Thing, British soulstress and X Factor winner Leona Lewis (watch our exclusive video interview with Leona and Clive here), the Foo Fighters, as well as the one-night-only (we hope) combination of Nickelback's Chad Kroeger, Daughtry and Slash performing Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Born on the Bayou." And the award for Biggest Grammy Week Whore goes to Slash! Video of the historic (?) collaboration:

Sunday: It seems like the entire city of Los Angeles gets dressed to go to the Grammys around lunch. Throngs of shellacked women in short sequined gowns started congregating in various L.A. hotel lobbies around three in the afternoon. Considering you have to be in your seats (or else!) by 4:45 (and since the Staples Center is located somewhere near Central America), we guess it's a good idea to leave a little early.

While the awards are telecast live on the East coast, you can't watch them as they happen on TV in Los Angeles. This is fortunate because it gave us the chance to catch a truly excellent special on Lemon sharks (they have eyelids and give birth to live young) on the Discovery Channel.

The array of post-Grammy parties (Sony BMG, Warmer, Universal) unfold like a series of expensive Bar Mitzvahs distinguished mostly by the different kinds of finger food being passed around (the caprese cups at Warner's event were particularly scrumptious). Still, with Panic At the Disco, Ashlee and Pete, Marc Ronson, and new Grammy winners like Herbie Hancock all tooling around in limos from event to event, it did feel weirdly communal and romantic, like all of L.A. was out at its prom.