The 'Breakthrough' artist?

A week before the Grammy Awards, Entertainment Weekly put Justin Timberlake on its cover.

The buzz going into Sunday's ceremony centers on a reunion of seminal '80s rockers the Police.

The person with the most nominations -- eight -- is Mary J. Blige .

Blige's album may be called "The Breakthrough." It may have received universally glowing reviews. But in perusing the list of awards for which she was nominated, you will not find the night's biggest prize among them: album of the year .

She has twice as many nods as Timberlake, and "The Breakthrough" has sold more copies than Timberlake's album of the year contender, "FutureSex/LoveSounds" -- currently 2.8 million to his 2.6 million, according to Nielsen SoundScan. (Although released in 2005, nine months prior to "FutureSex," "The Breakthrough" falls within the time period for eligibility.)

There are a number of obvious reasons Blige was robbed of major pre-Grammy buzz and album of the year consideration, not the least of which is the worthy work of the artists who were nominated.

Four of the five nominees have a "story."

Timberlake made several artistic leaps (and a few missteps) on "FutureSex." The former boy bander also amped up his pop culture presence through films ("Alpha Dog," "Shrek the Third" ), a YouTube-worthy appearance on "Saturday Night Live," and minute-by-minute tabloid updates on his romantic entanglements.

The Dixie Chicks' "Taking the Long Way" was the first album from the group since Natalie Maines's controversial criticism of President Bush in 2003 .

A little song called "Crazy" came out of left field to dominate the airwaves and spread the word about a pair of artists -- Danger Mouse and Cee-Lo -- who had long been celebrated on the fringes but were now teaming up and busting out as the quirky Gnarls Barkley .

"Stadium Arcadium," an ambitious release from a reinvigorated veteran band of outsize personalities that survived drug abuse and the death of a member, secured a berth for the Red Hot Chili Peppers .

And then there's John Mayer , whom Grammy voters just love.

Unlike the artists in that group, or last year's much-scribbled-about comeback queen, Mariah Carey , Blige has no up-to-the-minute heat, only a good record that's more than a year old. Her story has simply run its course: exciting, ghetto-fabulous debut in 1992 ; dip in musical quality and quality of life in the drug-and-alcohol-fueled late '90s; scintillating, no-more-drama return to form in 2001 . That her tale concludes with a hit record and single ("Be Without You" ) and a happy marriage is nice for her, but not very buzzworthy.

But there are also more intangible reasons Blige may have been passed over for a nomination and didn't seem to receive the press coverage the top nominee has in the past. Some have to do with the slightly second-class regard accorded R&B in general, and the "Queen of Hip-Hop Soul" in particular. Where's the r-e-s-p-e-c-t?

Mainstream listening and purchasing habits have generally favored pop music over R&B. If that wasn't true, Pat Boone and Elvis Presley wouldn't have been so successful de-grit-ifying already popular "race" records. Carey wouldn't have enjoyed a bigger audience for her sweeping ballads than for her forays into hip-hop. And Mary J. Blige would have as high a profile as Britney Spears .

Then there is the knock I have consistently heard on Blige since her 1992 debut, "What's the 411?" -- that she is not a "great" singer, in the vein of artists like Carey or Whitney Houston in her prime.

No argument here. Blige is no technician and has hit plenty of bum notes in her career. A few came during her blistering 2002 Grammy rendition of "No More Drama." Viewers who complained that the performance -- which took Blige to her knees, near sobbing -- was overwrought or flat in spots seemed to miss the element that means more than perfect pitch to soul music fans: real, raw, almost painfully wounded emotional connection.

That revelatory moment was descended from a long line of desperate pleaders, testifiers, and wailers: Aretha Franklin , James Brown , Wilson Pickett , Chaka Khan , and others who might not have always been on the nose technically but hit you between the eyes emotionally.

The different perceptions of that Grammy performance also neatly reiterated the reason an artist like Blige will likely never have a saturation presence on the order of a Carey. Audiences acclimated to a kind of "soul" singing that is tied to ostentatious melisma and octave scaling can be uncomfortable with the picking-at-scabs physicality of a singer like Blige. She's not onstage to impress you (although she is impressive), she's there to share her world and see where it connects with yours.

Not that anyone is feeling sorry for Mary. In her 15-year career, she has deservedly received a truckload of trophies -- including three Grammys -- and sold tens of millions of records. She has one of the most devoted fan bases going for a sound that helped create the hip-hop soul that has become the template for singers like Beyoncé , Amerie , and the late Aaliyah .

Blige may not have landed in the brightest Grammy spotlight, but plenty of people don't know where they would be without her, and that's what a queen needs more than trophies: loyal subjects.