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Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Inductions
STEPHON JOHNSON: One thing that irks me, just as much as it irked Kelefa Sanneh, is when music magazines, websites and television shows wrap up a year of music by dubbing it “The Year in Rock” instead of “The Year in Music.” It’s something that I find infuriating and disgusting. But whenever the nominees for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame are announced, I am ready to take part in the debate as to who should or shouldn’t get in.
Last week, the nominees for this year’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame were announced and the nominees included acts like the J. Geils Band, Donovan, Bon Jovi, Alice Cooper, Joe Tex, Tom Waits, Chic, Beastie Boys, and LL Cool J.
While some might shake their heads at the majority of those nominees (probably because the collectively agreed upon “Gods of Rock” are already in and now they have to acknowledge other music), I find the Rock Hall to be more fascinating year by year. Why? Because this decade is the first time that the institution has had to address hip-hop, pop music, funk and other forms of music that aren’t rock-n-roll.
My belief is that many in the rock world, especially fans/musicians from this generation, might not know much about the greatness of Chic and how they influenced a decade plus of music. While most know them for the song “Good Times” (I always preferred “I Want Your Love”), but Chic’s influence is vast. Guitarist Nile Rodgers and Bassist Bernard Edwards brand of funk, while introduced to the world during the mainstream’s disco fascination, managed to transcend the genre so much that they were ripped off by rock stars (par for the course with Black artists at the time). For further proof of this copying, check the Edwards’ bass on “Good Times” then listen to John Deacon’s bass on “Another One Bites The Dust.”
In an interview with NME, Edwards said that Deacon’s bass work was a result of spending time with Chic in the studio. I prefer to call it a straight jack, But after the group disbanded, Rodgers and Edwards stayed in the industry and produced some of pop music’s most iconic songs/albums. With work on Madonna’s “Like A Virgin” album, David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance,” “Sister Sledge’s “We Are Family,” Diana Ross’ “Upside Down” and “I’m Coming Out,” Inxs, Rod Stewart, the Thompson Twins, Jody Watley, Robert Palmer and the B-52′s. Rodgers and Edwards production work was the 1980′s sonically. Even if they don’t get in as Chic, which they should, they should get in as producers/songwriters.
LL Cool J and the Beastie Boys legacy should be set in stone and the Hall would be absurd to deny them admittance now. While both acts haven’t recorded anything of relevance since 1998 (Despite both acts having chart hits since then), LL Cool J was hip-hop personified and the Beastie Boys introduced hip-hop to audiences who still saw it as a scary, Black thing. Being able to last, record albums, remain popular and influence multiple generations is worthy of recognition.
Face it, now it’s the time for the Rock to acknowledge hip-hop even more and when it comes time for pop music to get it’s due, they should be recognized too. Other than grunge, rock music hasn’t really influenced anyone or caught the cultural zeitgeist like hip-hop culture and music, pop music and various forms of electronic dance music. While there will be rock artists who still won’t get their due. Be sure to include hip-hop artists in that conversation as well when it happens.
By the way, Bon Jovi sucks. Don’t put them in the hall.
DAVE TOMAR: I love the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I know I shouldn’t because it’s really corny and it makes questionable decisions. Moreover, we could have a really intensive debate about the inherent stupidity of canonizing and institutionalizing something historically intended to be democratic, counter-cultural and uncivilized. The annual Hall Fame Induction concert typically does as well as anything I’ve ever seen at making rock music look like a stuffed museum piece. Still, I find the selection process compelling. It’s interesting to see who gets recognition and who doesn’t all these years later. For those that don’t know, the basic qualification is that your major label debut must have dropped 25 years prior to your first appearance on the ballot.
Beyond that, as Stephon points out, the qualifications seem verily unrestrained by the genre implications of Rock and Rock. The emergence of Funk, Hip-Hop, Rap and Electronic music are either expanding what is meant by Rock music or else have made this an irrelevant idiomatic term. From the perspective of designing a museum and charging people an entry fee, however, this is a less important debate to me than the implications of being eligible for legendary status. Whereas your typical sports Hall of Fame has the benefit of statistical qualification and can point to certain distinctions or records set in order to critically assess one player against a bar set by those already enshrined, the Rock Hall is a totally subjective passageway into the pantheon.
The industry goes through cycles where creativity or formula dominate and recede. The mission of the Rock Hall ultimately causes it to value both of these equally. That’s why you have Jelly Roll Morton, Curtis Mayfield and Iggy Pop looking across the gallery at The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac and James Taylor. They don’t belong together. Iggy Pop would eat Don Henley’s face. Of course, Don Henley sold more records while I was writing this sentence than Iggy Pop will sell in his whole life. The world’s a messed up place. Are the Eagles and Iggy Pop really in a similar class? Are we to presume that because they had such a tremendous commercial impact that the Eagles should stand shoulder to shoulder with the godfather of punk, who launched a million bands with every self-eviscerating performance?
The Eagles are the kind of band that nitrous-addicted dentists play in Southern California. And so this brings us to consider the current class. Refer back to Stephon’s article for a complete list and understand that I do not consider it valid to argue about who should and should not get in. Based on some of the precedent already set, it seems more appropriate to simply predict and justify the Hall’s likely selections.
First, it should go without saying that the kingpin of gumbo piano, Dr. John, is both a commercial and artistic shoo-in. I’m excited to see Tom Waits honored too. The two of these guys combined could make for one of the more rewardingly strange induction classes. If you’ve never listened to Dr. John’s 1968 solo debut, Gris-gris, it is one of the most wonderfully disorienting psychedelic swamp stews you’ve ever gargled. I’d enshrine him just for that.
The Beastie Boys are first-ballot in my opinion. The Beasties didn’t make a lot of albums, but nearly every one of them counted. Though Paul’s Boutique and Ill Communication represent obvious high points, they had a perfect run of albums from 1986 to 1998.
Chuck Willis is a given for the Rock Hall’s annual honoring of a black guy from a long time ago that most people haven’t heard of. It’s their way of paying homage to arbitrarily selected pre-rock figures. Chuck Willis was unusual in his time insofar as he was both an R&B singer and a songwriter. I’m not sure if he should get the nod over any number of other R&B singers that might be worthy (Wynonie Harris, Wilbert Harrison or Wild Be Moore, for example). However, he is the only one of his kind on the ballot so you can pretty much chalk him in.
Then you have the nominees whose imminent enshrinement casts a shadow on the whole thing for me. Neil Diamond is a great songwriter and a shitty singer. The song “Coming To America” should be diagnosed with throat cancer. But he was a huge part of the success of the Brill Building, working as a songwriter and ultimately contributing big hits to the likes of Jay and the Americans and the Monkees. To the latter, he gave the immortal “I’m a Believer.” His other credit is the fact that every drunk asshole in the world puts down what he or she is drinking to sing the “Oh Oh Oh” part of “Sweet Caroline.” It’s pretty hard to resist. Other than that though, Neil Diamond sucks and he will definitely get into the Hall of Fame.
In a similar category, Donna Summer simply had a huge number of hits. Going back, “Love to Love You Baby” is one of the few that isn’t high-pitched disco garbage. Otherwise, people like Neil Diamond and Donna Summer help to highlight why the Rock Hall is a stupid concept. You find yourself attempting to balance between bands that broke new ground and bands that sold a ton of records. You’ve got Abba and the Sabbath in the same museum. And that’s fine, but it suggests that a certain tier of commercial success validates you artistically.
At their current pace and established longevity, Justin Timberlake and Kid Rock are likely to be as worthy as anybody. We should be careful the precedent we set. One day, that dynamic will see Radiohead and Coldplay viewed as contemporaries instead of the latter being seen as a pubic hair on the grundle of the former.
Also, on a personal note, I’m a huge fan of the J. Geils Band. Known to most only for the MTV-era “Centerfold,” they go all the way back to 1965, when they built their reputation as a working-class blues-rock house-party band. They play it rough and greasy. Though they are unlikely to be inducted into the Rock Hall, J. Geils Band is in my personal Hall of Fame, which has no room for Donna Summer, which thinks LL Cool J is a poorly aged Hip-Hop stereotype and which would only invite Bon Jovi to serve drinks. Alas, this is not my Hall of Fame. This is everybody’s. And to paraphrase first-ballot inductees The Kinks, you have to give the people what they want.
Still, perhaps it should more fittingly be called the Music Industry Hall of Fame. Then nobody could fault you for calling the Eagles, Donna Summer or even Bon Jovi legendary.