IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN….THOUGHTS ON THE 2017 ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME NOMINEES

This year’s performing nominees for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame were announced last week. I always like to put in my two cents and I try to come up with a new approach each year. This year, with artists I have strong feelings about being in short supply on the ballot, I’ve decided to list the actual nominees next to the artist they most resemble (spiritually or temporally) who is more deserving.

You know. According to me.

And rock and roll. Let’s not forget rock and roll.

It’s a long ballot this year, so be sure to strap on your seat-belt. And please, if your sphincter is, as Ferris Bueller might have it, prone to making diamonds from charcoal, proceed with caution…

Actual Nominee: Bad Brains. I don’t really know much about them, but, listening on YouTube, they sound like every other hardcore band except the Minutemen. Like most such bands (not the Minutemen), they started out pretentious (jazz fusion according to Wikipedia and who is surprised?) until they found out where the true belief they could ,milk a ready-made cult career from lay. I only listened to a few cuts, but they certainly sound as if they always knew which side of the bread the butter was on.

Dream Ballot: The Minutemen. I listened to one of their albums all the way through once when I was in my twenties. I’m in my fifties now and I’m still waiting to reach an emotionally secure place before I listen again. I don’t know much about hardcore but I know real genius and the sound of nerves being scraped raw when I hear it.

Actual Nominee: Chaka Khan. Fine. Unlike most rock and roll narrativists, and most of the Hall’s voters, I’m not ready to forget about black people in the seventies. Speaking of which…

Dream Ballot: Rufus, featuring Chaka Khan. Yes, Chaka should be in. She should be in with her great interracial funk band, and they should pave the way for the other great funk bands, interracial (War, Hot Chocolate, KC and the Sunshine Band), and otherwise (Kool and the Gang, Ohio Players, Commodores). It seems like the more the nominating committee screws these things up, the more things stay the same.

Actual Nominee: Chic. They should be in. They’ve been consistently nominated for years but can’t overcome the disco hatred. No surprise there. Donna Summer had to die to get in. Even so, they aren’t the most deserving in this genre. That would be…

Dream Ballot: Barry White. Chic has been on the ballot ten times. You’d think they could nominate an even more popular, more innovative and more iconic artist from the same basic gene pool at least once. Come on people. Let’s at least try to make it look like we know what we’re doing!

Actual Nominee: Depeche Mode.Drone music. Admittedly, not my thing. Lots of hits in England and I don’t like to step on other people’s tastes, let alone their passions, but If somebody asked for indisputable evidence of why Britannia no longer rules the waves and soon won’t rule Britannia, I’d play them Depeche Mode music all night long. They could make up their own minds about whether that’s a good thing. Might be more useful if they at least pointed to something better, instead of a black hole.

Dream Ballot: Roxette. I was gonna go with Eurythmics, though they aren’t of the same ilk either (and might actually get on the real ballot some day). But, broadly, this is all Europop, and if there is going to be Europop, then there ought to at least be a fun single every now and then.

Actual Nominee: Electric Light Orchestra (ELO). The early lineup included Roy Wood, and the RRHOF is including Wood in the lineup that will be inducted if they get the votes. They aren’t including Roy Wood for what he did in ELO,  which means they are tacitly acknowledging that this really ought to be…

Dream Ballot: The Move/ELO. They did this for Faces/Small Faces which actually made less sense (The Faces were a much cleaner break from the Small Faces than ELO were from the Move) but certainly opened up nominating possibilities. If you have two borderline deserving bands linked by shared membership, why not just put them together? We could have Free/Bad Company or Manfred Mann/Earth Band, maybe one or two others I’m not thinking of right now. It makes more sense than a lot of other sins of commission/omission presently on the Hall’s head. The Move were probably deserving on their own, despite their lack of success in America. ELO are marginally deserving anyway, and not just because of their massive success in America. Why oh why does the Hall continually shadow box. You had a good idea there a few years back. Run with it.

Actual Nominee: The J. Geils Band. It’s not that the J. Geils Band aren’t deserving. They are. And it’s getting late. They’ve been eligible for a long time. But if we’re mining the White Boy Stomp vein, then let’s go with my old standby…

Dream Ballot: Paul Revere and the Raiders. One of my criteria is that if you either helped define a major genre or helped invent an important minor one, you should be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The Raiders had a hand in inventing what came to be called garage rock. They certainly helped define it, ergo it doesn’t matter if you call garage rock major or minor. And they were the only band that fits well within even the narrowest definition of the ethos to have a major run of hits. That they’ve never been on the ballot for a hall that includes the Dave Clark Five and the Hollies (both deserving, but still) is silly, really. [Alternate pick: Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels.]

Actual Nominee: Jane’s Addiction. A sort of thrash band with sort of Power Pop vocals. They started in the mid-eighties and you can feel them giving in to the awfulness of the times on just about any record I’ve heard (which I confess isn’t all that many, those I’ve heard not making me feel like I’ve missed anything except more dreariness, more unearned angst, more acceptance of defeat as the natural and permanent human condition we should all just learn to live with). Again, I realize these punk/alternative/alt metal//indie/thrash/etc. bands have had a profound impact on somebody’s life. I hate having to dis anybody’s taste. Still….nobody should take the world this hard unless they’ve been in a war.

Dream Ballot: Big Star. It doesn’t even matter who you (or I) like. The RRHOF has a responsibility to history. Putting Jane’s Addiction on a ballot where Big Star have never appeared amounts to criminal negligence.

Actual Nominee: Janet Jackson. No problem here. Miss Jackson had an enormous career and deserves to be in, maybe even on this ballot. But I’m curious…

Dream Ballot: Cyndi Lauper. Leaving aside why Dionne Warwick–Dionne Warwick!–has never appeared on a ballot, and sticking to the same era, why not do the all the way right thing and go with Cyndi?  She made the best album of the eighties, was the last truly inventive vocalist of the rock and roll era (just before the suits allowed the machines to take over–and at a loss on the profit sheet, too–because the machines never talk back), and her acceptance speech would likely be even more priceless than her average interview.

Actual Nominee: Joan Baez. Inducting Joan Baez into the RRHOF as a performer would be a joke. She’s never made anything resembling a great rock and roll record. She’s a perfect candidate, however, for my long-running common sense proposal to have a “Contemporary Influence” category, especially now that the “Early Influence” category is running dry. Other worthy candidates for a concept which could acknowledge great artists who influenced their rock and roll contemporaries without being quite “of” them, would be oft-mentioned names like Patsy Cline and Willie Nelson (country), the Kingston Trio (folk), or even Barbra Streisand or Dean Martin (pop). It would have also been the right category for Miles Davis (already inducted as a performer) and a number of blues acts. But, if this category is not to exist, then at least go with….

Dream Ballot: Peter, Paul and Mary. They were the ones who put Bob Dylan on the charts, two years before the Byrds. If you think this–or Dylan becoming a major star–was merely inevitable, you weren’t quite paying attention. Woody Guthrie never made it…and don’t think he couldn’t have, if PP&M had been there to provide the bridge to the mainstream (whether he would have accepted it is another question, but my guess is he would have). Besides, unlike most of the people who would properly belong in a Contemporary Influence category, they actually made a great rock and roll record…which is not nothing, even if they just did it to prove they could to people who thought “I Dig Rock and Roll Music” was only a joke.

Actual Nominee: Joe Tex. No complaints. No arguments. Joe Tex is the last of the first-rank soul men not to be inducted. He should be.

Dream Ballot: Joe Tex.

Actual Nominee: Journey. I love, without irony or reservation, “Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin.” It’s a great record, period. And I don’t hate the stuff everybody else hates. i don’t listen to it, but I don’t run screaming from the room if it’s on either, or get a knot in my stomach that makes me want to start ranting about the decline and fall of civilization (and you know I can find endless reasons to do that). Plus, they sold a bajillion records. Still….Seriously?

Dream Ballot: Three Dog Night. The only reason Three Dog Night weren’t in a long time ago is they didn’t write their hits. If you follow along here, you know that’s not a good reason. Especially when, on average, their hits were a lot greater than Journey’s. (Alternate pick: Def Leppard…they have the advantage of being better than Journey and a more direct replacement. They just weren’t as good as Three Dog Night.)

Actual Nominee: Kraftwerk. Another good candidate for Contemporary Influence, especially since the Nominating Committee, which would control such a category, seems to love them. Again, this not being the case…

Dream Ballot: Roxy Music. Actually, I’m not the best person to make a case for them, but at least they had some hits and a tangential connection to rock and roll. This would also tacitly acknowledge and directly honor the fine work from Brian Eno’s and Bryan Ferry’s solo careers. And does anyone really believe they were less influential than Kraftwerk?

Actual Nominee: MC5. I let my MC5 CDs go in the great CD selloff of 2002. I liked them pretty well, but I never got around to buying them back. As one of the six great bands (The Stooges, Big Star, The Ramones, Mott the Hoople and one I’m about to mention were the others) who bridged the garage band ethos to punk, they should be in. I’d pick them last, mind you (The Stooges and the Ramones, the two I might have picked them ahead of, are already in), but they should be in. Some day. Meanwhile…

Dream Ballot: The New York Dolls. I wonder what might have happened if they had lasted longer. I always loved this performance on The Midnight Special (that they were even on tells you how great The Midnight Special was), where they start with about six fans and end with about eight. I don’t know how far another five years would have taken them…to a hundred maybe? a thousand?….but I bet they’d be in the Hall already if they had made it that far.

Actual Nominee: Pearl Jam. Of course they’ll get in. All that cred. They can’t miss. And that’s fine. They helped define grunge. That’s vital, maybe even major. Well deserving of induction. But here’s the thing…

Dream Ballot: The Shangri-Las. Just curious, but besides turning up the amps and groaning a lot, what did Eddie Vedder do in a quarter-century that Mary Weiss didn’t do, without a trace of his trademark stridency, in three minutes on her first hit? What new place did he get to? Go ahead. Explain it to me. Please….

[NOTE: For any of my fellow Shangs’ aficionados, this link contains an intro I’ve never heard before, plus the extended finale that I’ve linked in the past. It’s the story that never ends.]

Actual Nominee: Steppenwolf. Is Biker Rock really a genre? Is introducing the phrase “heavy metal” to the world enough, in and of itself, to ensure enshrinement? I’m not sure, but if either of these be the case, Steppenwolf should be voted in immediately. Just in case it’s otherwise…

Dream Ballot: Lee Michaels. Why not? If we’ve come this far down the where-can-we-find-more-White-Boys-to-nominate road, aren’t we just messing with people? (Alternate pick: The Guess Who.)

Actual Nominee: The Cars. Cheap Trick got in last year and it’s nice to see to see Power Pop getting some love. The Cars were probably also the most successful New Wave band after Blondie (already in), so I’d always consider voting for them. However…

Dream Ballot: Raspberries. If you really started and/or mainstreamed the Power Pop thing (to the extent that somebody was going to be forced to give it a name), and if your best records are better than anything the thing produced afterwards (well, except for the Go-Go’s maybe), and your front man was the biggest single talent in the whole history of the thing, then shouldn’t you be first in line?

Actual Nominee: The Zombies. I like the Zombies plenty. But the depth of the Nominating Committee’s love for them is a little odd. A few great singles and a cult album (Odessey and Oracle) that has traveled the classic critical journey once outlined by Malcolm Cowley (it boiled down to everything now underrated will eventually be overrated and vice versa) is a borderline HOF career at best.

Dream Ballot: Manfred Mann. Especially if you include all its incarnations (and after the  Hall-approved Faces/Small Faces induction, why wouldn’t you?), the never-nominated Manfreds are more deserving on every level. The first version made greater singles and more of them. The second version morphed into Bob Dylan’s favorite interpreters of his music and, along the way, made an album (called The Mighty Quinn in the U.S.) which sounds better to these ears than Odessey and Oracle ever did. Then the third and fourth versions (called Chapter Three and Earth Band) became long running jazz fusion/classic rock troupers. (And yeah, I love their “Blinded By the Light” in both its single and album versions. We all have our heresies.) Mann’s greatest genius was for discovering standout vocalists to sell his concepts every step of the way. And, whatever gets played from the stage of next year’s induction ceremony, I bet it won’t be as good as this…

Actual Nominee: Tupac Shakur. If this is going to re-open the door for pioneers like Afrika Bambaataa or LL Cool J or Eric B. and Rakim, then fine and dandy. They’ve all been on the ballot before. I hope they won’t be forgotten in the coming years, when pressure to induct more modern hip-hop acts grows and when five will get you twenty the Hall’s obvious but never acknowledged penchant for quotas and tokenism remains firmly in place. Still, for me…

Dream Ballot: Naughty By Nature. Yes, even above all the rest. I still think “O.P.P.” is the greatest hip-hop record. I still think “Mourn You Til I Join You,” is the greatest tribute record in a genre that has required far too many. I still think “How will I do it, how will I make it? I won’t, that’s how,” is the finest rap line, (just ahead of Ice-T’s “How can there be justice on stolen land?”) Plenty of early rockabilly stars made it in on less (and deservedly). So sue me.

Actual Nominee: Yes. Prog rock. Yes, of course. That will be very useful in the days to come. Most helpful.

Dream Ballot: Fairport Convention. This year, of all years, we really should find every excuse to listen close. Admittedly, next year promises to be worse.

Happy Holidays ya’ll…Don’t let the Grim Reaper get ya’!

REMEMBERING THE MAESTRO (Memory Lane: 1976, 2000)

For me, 1976 was the year.

I started listening to the radio, I started buying records (45s anyway), I started wondering what I had possibly missed. If what I was hearing every day was so overwhelming what had the past yielded?

Soon after, I started tracking backwards, searching.

Soon after that, tracking backwards became about the only thing worth doing. The present began to yield less and less. The future held no promise.

But there was a sweet spot, right there in the first half of 1976 (such a terrible year, I was later told, over and over, that it made punk necessary) when I couldn’t keep up with what went by, hour after hour, right there on Top 40 radio beaming out of southern Alabama.

I certainly didn’t have the money to buy more than a tiny fraction of what I loved.

So, for that brief little window of time, I stored musical memories. Songs I heard a handful of times played in my head, sometimes for years, until I could track them down on records. I might write about some of those songs later–I’m sure the whole “Diamonds in the Shade” concept sprang from that experience, the moment when I realized great things could come and go on the radio without leaving an impact on seemingly anyone but me.

I learned not to talk about it. People worried enough about me as it was. But I kept them in my head.

I kept looking.

As the years went by, and I tracked down literally every single one of those records: Kiki Dee’s “Once A Fool,” Billy Ocean’s “Love Really Hurts Without You,” and “L.O.D.,” Marmalade’s “Walking a Tightrope,” and oh so many more, I had a variety of deja vu experiences. Some were as great as I remembered, some almost so, some not at all.

But, whatever the final outcome, I always had one advantage aiding musical memory: I actually had a name attached to the records.

It helps. Believe me.

There was one record on that list which did not come attached with a name.

It didn’t come attached with a name because, the only time I heard it, the dee-jay didn’t say who it was by.

I didn’t worry too much at first. I remembered a line. I would recognize the song the next time it came on. Dee-jays usually gave out names with songs back then (almost the last moment when they did so). I would catch it later.

And there would be a later, because there was no way that song wasn’t going to be a hit! It was catchy and it didn’t quite sound like anything else. In those days (again, almost the last days when this was so) that was the way of hit-making. Make it catchy. Make it not quite like anything else.

I never heard the song on the radio again. I never heard anybody say who it was by.

So, as the years went by, I only had that single line, playing in my head. Thirteen words and a snatch of melody.

“You see the trouble with me,” the line went, “I can’t do nothin’ without my baby.”

Yeah, that was it. That was all of it.

You try setting out after a song based on that.

It wasn’t the words that were not quite like anything else. The words were exactly like everything else. And you can’t look up much based on a bit of sound pressed to your brain stem. Not in this world.

I accepted that those thirteen words may or may not have formed part of the record’s title. Over time, I somehow convinced myself they didn’t, maybe because looking under the “Y” (in case it started with “You See”), “T” (in case it started with “The Trouble”) and “I” (in case it started with “I Can’t”) sections of literally hundreds of alphabetized 45 bins across a good portion of the United States didn’t yield a single bite.

Eventually, I gave up. The CD revolution came along. The few on my “mystery list from ’76” that I hadn’t tracked down on 45 became available on disc. A beach music collection here, a bubble gum collection there. Turned out there were more fellow obsessives out there than I thought. Almost every one of those records had fans who had ended up working for small reissue labels catering to their fellow wanderers.

The world moved on. That melody would still come in my head now and again, but it happened less and less. To be honest, there came a moment when I didn’t bother looking anymore. I didn’t exactly give up hope–I just lost faith in my ability to make a discovery happen.

I might hear it again some day, I might not. Nothing unusual in that. Everybody who chases sounds has had some sort of similar experience. Sometimes it ends happily, sometimes it doesn’t end at all (which is the definition of “unhappily” when you are chasing sounds).

That was the state of my little buried memory in the Year of Our Lord, 2000 A.D. when I purchased a greatest hits package by an artist who had, in fact, been far more famous than any of the others I chased. Had, in fact, had a solid three-year run of smashes going back when I started listening to the radio in December of 1975.

I’m guessing that was why the dee-jay felt no need to identify his new release, back in the first few month’s of 1976. Surely, anybody who was listening to the Top 40 in those days didn’t need to be told who this guy was.

Probably they didn’t. Unless they had only started listening to the radio a few months before. Then they might need a little help.

Of course, even so, the dee-jay could hardly be blamed. There was no way to know that particular record was going to break the singer’s string of nine straight top ten R&B hits, and fail to reach the American pop chart at all (as each of the previous nine had done, with most reaching the top ten). There was no way to know that the singer’s incredible hot streak (hot by any standard, incredibly hot for a three-hundred-pound black man who sold himself as a Love God) was going to end with that record– a record that was capable of sticking deep enough in the mind of a teenage white boy that, a quarter of a century later, when he heard the first chords of the lost sound (chords he did not remember until that very moment) coming through the speakers on the other side of the house (whence he was folding towels whilst listening to the new stack of CDs), he started running towards the sound, laughing maniacally, shouting “That’ s it! That’s it!” long before Barry White sang “You see the trouble with me, I can’t do nothin’ without my baby!”

History takes strange turns. These days, I can look on the internet and see that “You See the Trouble With Me” was a hit all over Europe, #2 in the UK, even #14 on the American R&B chart. I can also see that it failed to make the Hot 100 on the U.S. pop chart.

I’ve got a sort of running theme in my head which this blog allows me to indulge. It concerns the search for “where it all went wrong.”

Barry White actually went on to have a few more big hits, even a couple of big pop hits.

But in the “where it all went wrong” debate, you could do worse than start right here with this record going nowhere. Because it still doesn’t make one bit of sense.

And if you’re wondering whether Barry himself knew the record’s value (this if from 1990)…

Barry White’s still waiting for his first Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Nomination. Just in case you think nothing ever really went wrong to begin with.

CONGRATULATIONS TO THE 2016 ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME INDUCTEES…IRRESPECTIVE OF MY PERSONAL FEELINGS!

Just kidding folks.

No matter what anyone pretends (including some of the artists themselves), being inducted into a major Hall of Fame is a great honor and I’m down with anybody who makes it through the process.

This year it’s Chicago, N.W.A., Steve Miller, Cheap Trick and Deep Purple.

I didn’t have any especially strong feelings for any of the artists nominated this rime around except Spinners and, of course, being by far the most deserving, they did not make it. I’ll keep hoping. The one act I voted for in fan balloting which made the grade was Cheap Trick. I hope (but doubt) that their induction opens a crack for Big Star, Raspberries and the Go-Go’s, the other great power pop bands who were even greater rock and roll bands than Cheap Trick, to receive future consideration. We shall see.

As to the rest, N.W.A. and Deep Purple were genuine pioneers even if I’m not the prime audience for their music (and even if Joe South, deserving himself, did out-rock DP on “Hush”). Steve Miller was a genuine survivor, and Chicago sure did sell a lot of records (not a few of which I like a lot). All in all, I’d say it’s about average as recent classes go but it does continue one especially deep and troubling trend that I’ll keep harping on until it gets better: The Hall should stop pretending that black people disappeared in the 70s. If Chicago and Cheap Trick and Steve Miller can all go in during the same year, the first time any of them were nominated, then there’s no reason Barry White and the Commodores and Ohio Players shouldn’t go in next year as first time nominees.

Not to mention War and Spinners, the era’s greatest band and greatest vocal group respectively, R&B or otherwise. They both should have been in long ago.

So, looking forward, let this be the beginning of a new road folks, not an endless highway where a stream of geriatric white folks are eternally joined by a token rap or alternative act or two (look for Pearl Jam and Tupac next year), all selected by a hardening formula that now prizes television ratings over the Hall’s purported mission, as opposed to striking a necessary balance.

Take some advice in other words…

For my initial thoughts on the year’s nominees you can go here…

THOUGHTS ON THE 2016 ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME NOMINEES

Since my first post on the Hall several years ago, at least a few of the acts I considered egregious oversights (Donna Summer, Linda Ronstadt, The “5” Royales) have found their way in. I’m confident I’ve had nothing whatsoever to do with this, except maybe cosmically, but the cosmos must be attended, so I take heart and keep plugging away. My lists of the most deserving not yet inducted are still very much the same and can be found HERE, HERE and HERE.

I try to do something a little different each year, simply because my relationship to each new batch of nominees is bound to change at least a little. This year, it’s a simple breakdown: 1) Acts (well, one anyway) who are in my own pantheon and therefore no-brainers; 2) Acts I have at least some strong feeling for, either because I think they filled some place in Rock History that can’t be entirely ignored or I just like their records a lot; and 3) Acts I don’t pretend to get.

So, in reverse order:

Acts I don’t pretend to get (or can at least easily eliminate from this particular ballot):

Nine Inch Nails and The Smiths: Charter members of the Gloom Squad, representativesof which, given the air of stagnation and hopelessness that began to dominate the culture in the late eighties and has continued to suck at our collective oxygen supply every single day since, we are almost certainly stuck with in perpetuity. If they are your thing, peace be upon you, but let’s do cancel the dinner reservations.

Yes: I really like “Roundabout.” But, as one record arguments go, it’s not exactly “La Bamba,” or “Summertime Blues.”

The J.B.s.: Very worthy. Please induct them immediately in the Musical Excellence or Sidemen category, as should have been done long ago. Can’t see spending a vote on them in the performer category.

Chicago: I’m at least a little torn on this one. I do like a lot of their records (more than I think I do actually, unless some event like this one forces me to focus). But I can’t say I’ve listened to them a lot so I just don’t have a strong feeling one way or the other. I will say their lack of critical respect and their capacity for annoying the crit-illuminati by selling millions of records hardly count against them in my book. That said, if the ice is beginning to thaw around the idea of acknowledging AM giants as a necessary and vital part of Rock and Roll History, give me Three Dog Night or the Fifth Dimension any day. Not to mention Tommy James.

Chaka Khan: I could see voting for her some time, especially if (as happened in the past) she was being considered along with her great interracial funk band, Rufus. But she might be one of those acts I can always consider voting for in theory who just never happens to crack the top five on any given ballot. Time will tell. BTW: Interracial funk bands have a way of getting overlooked by the Hall: Think War, Hot Chocolate, KC and the Sunshine Band. Apparently Sly and the Family Stone are enough for the “Hey I’m not really opposed to the concept” crowd. I’d like to see this change, so Rufus would be more likely to get my vote than Chaka alone.

Acts I’d at least strongly consider:

Janet Jackson: She’s a strong candidate and, as someone who generally chides the Hall for seriously slacking on recognition of women and black people, she should be a natural. She was a major superstar and I even like a lot of her records. I can’t say I ever had that special “moment” with her, though. There’s no one record that makes me pull her records off the shelf at least every once in  a while. Since this is very rare for me with any rock and roll act who had even a modest run of sustained success I have to be at least a little bit suspicious. Why Janet? Why aren’t we connecting like we should? Why are Chaka and Chicago in the not-ready-for-consideration category when no record you ever made is on a level with “Tell Me Something Good” or “Just You ‘n’ Me?”  Why does life hold so many mysteries? Withholding judgment on this one…

N.W.A.: The other act on this ballot who are considered a likely slam dunk. Overall that’s a good sign. I can’t remember the last time the two favorites going in were African-American. Wish I liked their music as well as their story. I mean, should burnishing my street cred feel so much like eating my broccoli? Or reading my Chomsky? Withholding….yaddah, yaddah, yaddah.

Chic: Yes, yes they should be in. I love “Le Freak” unconditionally (as well as a number of Rodgers and Edwards’ productions for other artists) so there is no problem with the “connection” missing in the previous two entries. And yes, I’m probably going to vote for them. I still don’t quite get why they’ve been on the ballot ten times and Barry White and KC and the Sunshine Band have zero nominations between them…But I’m probably still going to vote for them. Let’s wait and see.

Deep Purple: I was keener on them until I started listening to Joe South again and realized his version of “Hush” not only wastes theirs on the, you know, emotional level where you except a singer-songwriter to have an advantage, but actually rocks harder. Still, they had a real role in making hard rock “heavy.” And I wouldn’t want to put together the classic rock comp that’s going to play on the Celestial Jukebox at the End of Time without “Highway Star” or “My Woman From Tokyo” somewhere in the mix.

Los Lobos: They made one truly great album. That was enough for Guns N’ Roses, whose great album wasn’t quite as great (though it sold a lot more and caused a lot more head-banging). It’s enough for me to certainly put them under strong consideration. I wish they were a little less professorial, of course. But if rock and roll is truly democratic, surely there must be room for the professors too….Mustn’t there?

Steve Miller: The Hall is often perverse. Should we even be surprised that this very long in coming nomination is for Miller alone and not The Steve Miller Band, which is the title under which he made his records? Sure there were a lot of different people in those bands, but the Hall has made room for similar aggregations before, so who knows what the thinking is. As for the records themselves, I’m obviously putting him ahead of Chicago, even if it’s only a hair. I’m hazy on his early, more critically acclaimed work. It was out of San Francisco so familiarity with it, might make me feel more strongly for or against (in a Grateful Dead, no, Jefferson Airplane maybe, CCR or Sly or Janis, yes, sort of way). Which leaves me wondering if the lead-in riff to “Jet Airliner” is enough to make him worthy all by itself? I lived the Seventies. I very specifically lived 1977. And I have to say it’s a very close call.

Cheap Trick and The Cars: Gee, not a month ago I was gently lamenting that I clearly liked Power Pop a lot better than the Hall did, and here they go and put two of the Big Five on the ballot at once. Granted I don’t listen to either as much as Big Star or Raspberries or the Go-Go’s, but they’re both fine bands and the Cars have the additional lift of being the most popular band in the little-genre-that-couldn’t-quite-save-rock-and-roll-but-sure-had-fun-trying. Hall worthy? Definitely. Possible to vote for one and not the other? Tough call. I think I can manage it. I think I’ll probably have to. Which one?….Which one, knowing that the chances of the three even greater bands being considered in the future ride heavily on how these two do? Which one, knowing that these two have the decided advantage of being mysteriously accepted at “classic rock” formats?…Oh, God.

NO-BRAINER:

Spinners: The premiere vocal group of the seventies, the last decade when the competition was fierce and the distinction therefore amounted to an epic accomplishment. Stop the nonsense. Stop dumping on seventies R&B. Stop dumping on vocal groups. Put them in already, so I can start banging the drum for the Stylistics and the Chi-Lites! (insert maniacal laughter here!)

Final ballot:

Spinners…

Los Lobos…

Cheap Trick….

Janet Jackson…

Chic…

(and a Rodgers and Edwards bonus….)

…First alternate, the Cars…

If you want to participate in fan balloting you can access the Future Rock Legends site here (you have to scroll down a bit). The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s actual ballot, which has a very small effect on actual voting (but, I suspect, may have a very real effect on considerations for future nominees) is here.

 

 

 

 

MY MORE OR LESS FAVORITE ALBUMS BY ARTISTS WHO HAVE NEVER BEEN NOMINATED FOR THE ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME (Volume 3: The Seventies, Amended)

Whenever you do this sort of thing, ad hoc, you’re almost bound to leave something out. But, while I haven’t had more than one or two pangs of regret over my sixties’ list, the deep and fundamental inadequacy of my seventies’ list started bugging me almost as soon as I posted it. I kept remembering yet another album that made me ask “How could I have left that one off?” Finally, when there were enough of them, I decided to put the eighties’ list on hold.

I’m not much into the old this “decade vs. that decade” disputes, at least not when the decades in question were indisputably great. But for rather obvious historical and demographic reasons, the seventies were certainly the most prolific decade for rock and roll. One fun aspect of taking the focus off the canon for a bit is exploring roads not taken or roads that were partially explored before being abandoned. More of that probably happened in the seventies with truly popular (and populist) music than in any other arbitrary ten year stretch. Some of what’s here “hit,” some didn’t. But it’s easy to think that any of it might have. And, in any case, it was fun to have an excuse to dig out the vinyl and just sit back and smile….

Brinsley Schwarz Despite It All (1970)

FAVALBUMSBSCHWARZUSETHIS!

Fake country rock…from England. Really, now, what other decade had that? Weird thing was, for the space of this album, it was convincing. Even Gram Parsons never did better with the concept. And, as we surely know now if we didn’t know then, that’s as good as the concept gets.

Pick to Click: “Ebury Down”

The Move Message From the Country (1971)

FAVALBUMSTHEMOVE

In the later vinyl and cd era, re-releases of this album have always included “Do Ya” and some other fine singles recorded around the same time which were not on this album originally. But the original album was fine on its own. They morphed into ELO of course, but, believe me, Bachman Turner Overdrive took a few notes as well. If, like me, you cant that a good thing, then this is a kind of touchstone of a style of rock and roll that, unless “rock and roll” counts, was never hip enough to acquire a catchy name.

Pick to Click: “Until Your Mama’s Gone”

The Belmonts Cigars, Acappella, Candy (1972)

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I have to admit, when I put the original list together I left this off because I thought these guys had been inducted along with a lot of other famous backup bands/groups a few years back (Blue Caps, Miracles, like that). Seems they weren’t. Once again, you have to sometimes wonder what the folks at the Hall are thinking. Me, I’d put them in if this miraculous LP was all they ever did.

Pick to Click: “Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever”

B.J. Thomas Billy Joe Thomas (1972)

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I wrote at length about this album’s most famous track here. There’s no way the rest of it could live up to “Rock and Roll Lullaby” which would pretty much upset the balance of any LP ever made. But Thomas was one of the finest studio singers of studio singing’s golden age and, as the title suggests, this is an attempt at the kind of cohesive statement studio pros weren’t supposed to be capable of (not being “soulful” enough presumably). Despite some occasionally pedestrian production, it largely succeeds. A vocal tour-de-force.

Pick to Click: “Rock and Roll Lullaby” (Following along with the “Drift Away” theory established in the “Volume 2, The Seventies” portion of our program….Of the album’s other cuts, I especially commend the closer, a version of John Sebastian’s “Stories We Could Tell” which, unfortunately, I couldn’t find on-line.)

Barry White Stone Gon’ 1973

FAVALBUMSBARRYWHITE

One of the things Rock and Roll America used to turn up on a fairly regular basis was voices the rest of America hadn’t been able to previously imagine. Believe me, you can find more precedent for Little Richard in 1955, or Jimi Hendrix in 1967, than you can for Barry White in 1973. This was his second album. It’s here because it’s the only non-comp of his I happen to own. I’ll need to correct that oversight some day. Just be warned that his habit on LP was to stretch his great singles to the breaking point and then surround them with the stuff the radio didn’t have time for…also stretched to the breaking point. I’ll just add that when white Englishmen took this sort of approach, it was always called “art” or “classical” and never once sounded either half as good or half as adventurous.

Pick to Click: “Never, Never Gonna Give Ya Up” (long version)

KC and the Sunshine Band Do it Good (1974)

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If disco hadn’t taken off the way it did, and they hadn’t played such a key role in that takeoff, then they would probably be recognized and celebrated for what they really were, which was a hardcore southern funk band whose leader, Harry Wayne Casey, was, as bandleader, frontman, writer, producer and arranger, the point man in changing the style’s deepest scene from Memphis to Miami.

If that kind of recognition should ever come, it might just get him and his crack band (along with his partner in enlightenment, Richard Finch) into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, where they richly belong. All of their period albums are good, and their basic comp is essential. But not more so than their first album, which creased the R&B charts and presaged their breakout the following year. In a word, they did what a southern funk band was supposed to do and for half a decade they did it better than anyone else.

They stomped.

Pick to Click: “Sound Your Funky Horn”

Hot Chocolate Cicero Park (1974)

FAVALBUMSCICEROPARK

Actually, every album they released in the seventies could qualify as one of my favorites for this list and just as superb albums period. They were basically unclassifiable, which may be why they’ve never quite gotten credit for being as great as they were. The vision was equal parts funk, rock, glam, reggae, sixties’ soul and social protest. Actually there once was a classification for that: Rock and Roll. Don’t tell the wrong people. They might swim over to your island and steal your Hot Chocolate records.

Pick to Click: “Changing World”

Wet Willie Keep On Smilin’ (1974)

FAVALBUMSKEEPONSMILIN

The Allman Brothers and Lynyrd Skynyrd set the tone for most of Southern Rock. It would be rooted in blues and R&B, crossed with country and English hard rock, with (in the case of the Allmans) a little jazz thrown in. Wet Willie were hardly unmindful of all that, but they also gravitated toward blue eyed soul and hard funk and, at their best, it led to what I can only call gutbucket beauty. This is them at their best. If the title track were even conceivable today, it would be slotted “Americana” and have no chance whatsoever of being played anywhere except college radio. In it’s day it went Top Ten on the Pop charts. Tell me again why things are really the same or better now?

Pick to Click: “Keep On Smilin'” (live)

Flash Cadillac and the Continental Kids Rock & Roll Forever (1975)

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This is a cheat. It’s a sort of comp, though sufficiently unusual for me to include it even if I didn’t have my reasons. It contains their first album, plus other stuff like the cut from American Graffiti (where they played the band for the high school dance) that threatened very briefly to break them out. They were neo to the core, of course. Throwbacks of a kind that normally aren’t good for anything more than the cheapest nostalgia. A decade later, bands like the Blasters made the throwback thing cool and the Stray Cats even made it commercial. But Flash Cadillac weren’t really like that. They were more like a group of guys who were genuinely caught out of time. They played and sang like the sixties had never happened. There were limits to the approach to say the least. But they, almost alone among the many practitioners of the ethos, found a genuine joy in it, too. Having never heard a single cut on this LP except the American Graffiti stuff, finding this in a used record shop in the nineties still put the smile of the year on my face. And taking it home and listening to it didn’t dim that smile even a little bit.

Pick to Click: “She’s So Fine”

Vicki Sue Robinson Never Gonna Let You Go (1976)

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Out here in the hinterlands there was a very long stretch, basically from whenever the single edit of “Turn The Beat Around” fell off the charts and took the LP out of your local department store’s record bin with it, until the mid-nineties CD reissue boom began taking hold, when, if you wanted to hear the incendiary long version of “Turn the Beat Around,” you had to get lucky and find this in a throwaway bin somewhere. (Oh yeah, you could luck into a 12″ white-sleeve single version…In North Florida…Sure you could. Just like you could see Elvis and Jim Morrison pumping gas across the street from the local Hardee’s.)

My copy was acquired in the late eighties. It still has the fifty-cent tag on it and, if memory serves, it was from a shop where the standard fare was more like fifty bucks.

Or it could have been from the one that was keeping most of their stock on dirt floors in an open-ended barn.

Have I mentioned previously that, sometimes, memory does not serve very well?

What I do remember was picking it up because I had kind of liked the single once upon a time, didn’t have it, but was having a bit of a love affair with old disco albums at the time, figured “Hey, it’s fifty cents. What can it hurt?”

What else I remember was playing the lead track–yes, it’s “Turn the Beat Around”–and being literally floored. There was a time when I obsessed on understanding the lyrics, especially the part where she started redeeming what I had previously considered the dubious history of any and all scat-singing that didn’t involve Louis Armstrong, before finally deciding it was pointless because she was obviously speaking in tongues.

Then, of course, Gloria Estefan came along and straightened it all out with her perfectly articulated 1994 version. I can’t tell you how I know this, and, of course it won’t really be my call, but you can rest assured that, on the Judgment Day, one Gloria Estefan will not be forgiven.

Yes, there’s a whole album and it’s a pretty darn good album. I especially like that fact that, according the back cover, one Vicki Sue Robinson both arranged and performed all that scat-singing herself, including the backup. And, of course, these days, the long version is readily available on YouTube, Amazon, etc.

But that’s really immaterial.

It would be immaterial if the rest of this album were Let It Bleed. Music’s an affair of the heart before it’s anything else. So’s record collecting.

Vicki Sue Robinson, come on down.

Pick to click: “Turn the Beat Around” (long version)

The Cars (1978)

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The album has nine tracks. Six of them became permanent radio staples, despite no single reaching higher than #27 in Billboard. It didn’t sound like anything else before it (even though everybody swore it did, because, well, it must have) and, except for other Cars’ albums, it hasn’t sounded like anything since. Maybe we should be thankful, because, before it’s anything else, it’s ice cold, the epitome of naked ambition. But it worked. And, when it works, ice cold naked ambition is as rock and roll as anything else in this vail of tears.

Pick to Click: “Bye Bye Love” (live)

Rachel Sweet Fool Around (1978)

FAVALBUMSRACHELSWEETFOOLAROUND

As I’ve said somewhere on here before, the missing link between Brenda Lee and Britney Spears. I bet Britney would have been better–and better off–if Rachel had been as big as either. Girl could have used a role model. (Britney, I mean. Rachel was a smart cookie. Went into TV, did just fine. Her lack of stardom was our loss, not hers.)

Click to Pick: “Who Does Lisa Like” (live…and absolutely smokin’)

Nick Lowe Pure Pop For Now People (1978) and Labour of Lust (1979)

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FAVALBUMSNICKLOWE2

I should mention at this point that there are several albums here, including both of these, which have different tracks for English and American releases. My preferences are for the American versions. Sometimes this is simply because those are what I heard first. More often it’s because I just think the American versions are better.

Going back to the Beatles and Stones, the hard fact is that American record companies had a tendency to cut the fluff. I know this fiddled with everyone’s artistic integrity and all, but I think it also made for better listening experiences. Letting artists have complete control over their album content and sequencing was great in theory, just like letting movie directors have the final cut was great in theory. In practice, better movies and better albums got made when there was a hard won balance between what the artist wanted and what the suits wanted. Now, in the music business at least, we’ve managed the worst of all worlds. The artists are indulged and the suits could care less because there’s no real money in the recording subdivision of the multi-media conglomerate that controls the artist and reports to the corporate sub-overlords who report to the real overlords who keep asking why we really need to keep this music thing going anyway when there’s no money in it?

Case in point, the “bowdlerized” and “re-sequenced” American versions of these two LPs are swift and concise and perfect. The longer English versions (all that’s available on CD as far as I can tell, Pure Pop was originally titled Jesus of Cool) wander around a bit, never quite come to the point and leave no real indication of why this old Brinsley Schwarz hand and jack-of-all-trades record man should have been a much bigger star than he was.

If you can find the vinyl, the question will arise. Those albums were perfect in theory and in fact and, unlike, say, Elvis Costello, he clearly wanted the stardom that never quite came.

No better way to conclude an amended post on the seventies, then, than with the nearest of all the near misses…

Picks to click: “Rollers Show” (Pure Pop) and “American Squirm” (Labour of Lust)

I had some additional thoughts about Pure Pop‘s most famous track, among other things, here.

And I promise you I’m done with the seventies!

And that the eighties, being the eighties, won’t take nearly as long.

THE ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME: 2015 NOMINEES

It’s that time again: Anyone wishing to participate in fan ballots can go HERE or HERE (second one actually has a small impact on the official voting).

Angst-Is-Me (meaning, me-me-me-me-me-me-me!): That’s one of the three main themes for this year’s ballot. Regrettable, but I suppose inevitable, given the direction “rock and roll” took once the rock and roll coalition fell apart in the late eighties. This will no doubt be a running theme in the future.

Anyway, count me uninformed on an era where Green Day (who I do sort of like) could pass for comic relief. I tried You-Tubing some Nine Inch Nails and Smiths. Really I did try–just couldn’t get all the way through any of their songs. But at least they seem to have struck a deep chord with their fans and I never begrudge anyone their own Shining Path.

“Sting,” on the other hand, has always struck me as a likely product of some government conspiracy–which government I’m not sure, but the Dark Arts must surely be involved. Anyway, I’m loathe to vote for a solo artist who is already in as a member of a group.

That leaves out the Velvet Underground’s Lou Reed, too. He’s far more deserving than Sting. I don’t even doubt that he’s Hall worthy–you know, once all the deserving people who aren’t already in have been taken care of.

Before I get to that, I’ll address the second major theme: Catch-As-Catch-Can.

This would include two “blues-rock” acts (the seminal Paul Butterfield Blues Band, the sturdy Stevie Ray Vaughan), the by-now obligatory rap act (N.W.A., a good one at least), a hard rock act (Joan Jett) and those fun-lovin’ auteurs of trance music (Kraftwerk).

So, in order:

The Paul Butterfield Blues Band: Fine. They would fit perfectly in my proposed category of Contemporary Influence. That would be a category where the Hall’s Nominating Committee, which already decides on Nonperformers, Musical Excellence, Sidemen, Early Influences and the like, induct artists who clearly influenced rock and roll during the rock and roll era, but don’t easily fit the Rock and Roll Performer category. It’s probably too late for this to happen, with perfect candidates like Miles Davis, Albert King and Muddy Waters already inducted as performers. The PBBB aren’t anywhere near as epic as those acts (or Patsy Cline or Peter, Paul and Mary, to mention a couple who could define my proposal). That being the case, they are basically taking up a spot on the ballot that would be better filled by far greater sixties’ “cult” acts like Love or Fairport Convention…or popular ones like Manfred Mann or Paul Revere and the Raiders.

Stevie Ray Vaughan: Solid, of course. I’d even call him rock and roll, since, by the time he came along, bringing straight blues to a mainstream audience was a kind of holy act. Not as holy as the Persuasions preserving–and modernizing–doo-wop into the seventies’ maybe, but honorable just the same. I could imagine voting for him, but only on a much weaker ballot than this one.

N.W.A.: Again, I could imagine voting for them (actually did vote for them the last time they were nominated), mainly as a way of honoring Ice Cube and Dr. Dre, who ended up being far more consequential than their original group. Maybe next year.

Kraftwerk: If we must, shouldn’t it be Roxy Music?

Joan Jett: The thing about Joan Jett is that–except for a few sides–I’ve always liked the idea of her better than the actual music. And I can’t get this quote from Suzi Quatro (who’s never been anywhere near the ballot) out of my head, (re: how she finally got through a scene she kept muffing on the set of Happy Days): “I finally decided to imitate Joan Jett imitating me.” I guess there’s a theme here: I’m not anxious to vote for somebody when there’s a better somebody who keeps not getting nominated.

That brings me to the year’s third theme, which, thankfully, is the recognition of long overdue R&B acts from the actual rock and roll era and which made up my entire ballot:

War and Spinners: I wrote about both in depth in my previous post. They are, by far, the two most deserving acts on this ballot and two of the half dozen or so most embarrassing oversights on the Hall’s record to date. Time to end all that.

Chic: I’m actually fairly lukewarm on them. But it’s clear disco isn’t going to get any further respect–that more deserving acts like K.C. and the Sunshine Band and (especially) Barry White–aren’t getting on the ballot unless and until Chic gets in. They’ve reached double-digit nominations and they fit the year’s best theme so this was an easier-than-usual call.

The Marvelettes: No, they aren’t the Chantels or the Shangri-Las, who have been unable to breach the Induction wall because the moat of ignorance (or, just possibly, chauvinism) separating the Hall’s voters from their beholden duty is deep and wide. But they are deserving–they had Motown’s first #1 (symbolic but symbols matter) and a long string of truly great singles. Easy choice, even with the caveats.

Bill Withers: Uncategorizable (as I wrote about here). Too much his own man even to really fit in with The Rising (see the War/Spinners post for details). I suspect he’s been helped by the now easy availability of his once difficult-to-hear early catalog. But, whatever good vibes brought him from nowhere to buzz-worthy in the past year, (in the fan voting, he’s doing the best by far of the acts I’m recommending) I hope they last. His induction would represent real hope for thinking outside some of the Hall-defined boxes that have become far too small for comfort.

Or, putting it all a little more simply: This…

Over this…

I mean, the End is coming soon enough. Let’s not hit the accelerator just yet.

2014 ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME NOMINEES ANNOUNCED

(For my thoughts on the artists I feel most strongly about, you can go here, here and here…Donna Summer has since been voted in)

As always, congratulations to all nominees, even those I don’t love…and best of luck. Nominees are thus:

Nirvana, Kiss, The Replacements, Hall and Oates, Paul Butterfield Blues Band, Chic, Deep Purple, Peter Gabriel, LL Cool J, N.W.A., Link Wray, The Meters, Linda Ronstadt, Cat Stevens, Yes, The Zombies.

My rundown…(as usual, having nothing to do with who I think will get in, just my assessment of how deserving each nominee is)

Indie/Alternative:

Nirvana’s a no-brainer. Kurt Cobain’s suicide effectively ended the rock and roll revolution that rolled out of Fats Domino’s left hand in 1950, threatening the end of hate and war. I blame us, not Cobain, for the ultimate failure but in any case you can’t get much more influential than that.

The Replacements haven’t made much impression on me. Major cool factor going for them but if we’re focusing on cult bands, I don’t really understand why they would be voted in ahead of Big Star or the New York Dolls.

Rap/Hip-Hop:

I put in a vote for N.W.A. last year (they were bound to be edged out by Public Enemy and they were), but I think this is a slightly longer and stronger ballot so I wouldn’t put them in my top five this time around.

LL Cool J has been on the ballot before and he would be a solid pick. I’m going in another direction this year, a little more true old school, but I could easily imagine picking him in another year where there was slightly less competition.

Prog/Art/Whatever:

I like radio-friendly Yes, which is about four songs. Every time I try to go deeper I get lost.

Peter Gabriel brings up one of my pet peeves, which is giving ballot slots to artists who have already been inducted (Gabriel is in as a member of Genesis). If the artist in question is a slam dunk (Michael Jackson say) or at least a truly strong candidate (Paul Simon, Eric Clapton, Clyde McPhatter) then I have no problem, but I don’t think Gabriel is in that class. Again, I like his radio hits, some of them a lot. I’d probably vote for him ahead of Yes, but in my own little circumscribed world, that isn’t necessarily saying much.

Classic Rock:

Ah, Kiss. On the basis of “Domino” alone, I will definitely vote for them some day. But they would make it much easier for me if they promise to play “Beth” and “Hard Luck Woman” at the induction ceremony and then get off the stage so Ace Frehley can close the show with “New York Groove.” (And for anyone who thinks I’m kidding, all I can say is you don’t know me very well as yet. They make the decision to stand by what they were best at, I’ll vote for them in a heartbeat.)

Deep Purple have a claim on helping invent/define heavy metal and the “classic” rock format. Thinking hard….

Singer/Songwriter:

At least Cat Stevens is not a cult act in the manner of recent inductees Leonard Cohen/Tom Waits/Laura Nyro/Randy Newman. I mean, he had a string of hits, which is a quality I happen to like in a practitioner of a best-seller genre in a popular art form. But why he would be on the ballot yet again while Jackie DeShannon and Carole King (as a performer) wait in the wings is a mystery.

British Invasion:

The Zombies have been bubbling under for years and at last they’ve made the ballot. I like them fine, but if there has to be another Invasion band in the Hall (and I’m not saying that there does, though I’m also not saying I object, strictly speaking) then I would rather it be Manfred Mann. Or, given the recent induction of the Small Faces and the Faces as a single unit, why not Manfred Mann/Manfred Mann’s Earth Band? That I’d probably go for.

Funk/Disco:

Chic is a perennial nominee and they will certainly get in one of these days. I’m slightly torn on them because I like them in theory a bit better than I do in practice and I have a sneaking suspicion that their admittedly massive influence wasn’t the net positive most make it out to be. A tad detached for my tastes. Put K.C. and the Sunshine Band in this spot and I would be a bit happier. Put Barry White in this spot and I would go “duh” and put a check mark next to his name. His continued absence is bewildering….Still, on the basis of “Le Freak” and all those really great Rodgers/Edwards producing credits…I’m thinking.

The Meters are a group I’ve heard and read about a lot more than I’ve listened to and that’s on me. I should do better by them. Until I do, I’ll take a pass.

Blues Projects:

The Hall loves putting blues acts in the “performer” section of the Hall. This is as good a place as any to renew my call for a “Contemporary Influence” category, which could include seminal acts ranging from Patsy Cline to Herbie Hancock to Peter, Paul and Mary who have had a truly sizeable impact on rock and roll and the rock era generally without actually being rock and roll performers much (or any) of the time (even in the context of my own extremely broad definition of the term). It’s probably too late for that, as strictly blues performers now dot the Hall’s performer roster, as well as Miles Davis (who would have been perfect for the category and frankly still would be). Whether the Paul Butterfield Blues Band would be a true fit for that imaginary category is an interesting potentinal debate. Meanwhile, getting back to reality, I simply restate my previous call from last year: Honor Mike Bloomfield in the side-men category and start using this slot for someone else.

Rock n’ Roll:

Link Wray. Good God yes. And about time.

Top 40 Giants (Seventies/Early Eighties Division):

Hall and Oates are apparently the cause celebre of new Nomination Committee member Questlove, who evidently brought a lot of hip-hop credibility and a sense of Black America’s genuine love for the last of the blue-eyed soul giants to the process. There was a time when I would have seen this as a borderline call at best, but I’ve been familiarizing myself with their box set over the past year or so and, speaking as someone who values “hip hop credibility” about as much as I value “punk credibility,”–i.e, as another term that makes me basically want to swallow my own tongue and choke to death–I’m now calling them a no-brainer and kicking myself for needing to be reminded. Just to prove there is such a thing as personal growth, I should confess here and now that I once took out a contract on their lives when their version of “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” was rising up the charts. Basically I felt they needed to be stopped. Boys, you may not be the Righteous Brothers, but I’m nonetheless officially glad my man Guido never found you. It’s all good now–and he probably would have come after me when he discovered I didn’t really have the ten grand after all.

I was far from the only one who suspected that the announcement of Linda Ronstadt’s Parkinson’s diagnosis might prompt the Hall to continue it’s macabre habit of noticing epic female vocalists once they have an incurable disease. As I mentioned before, at least Linda is getting off relatively easy since it’s only her voice that died, while Dusty Springfield and Donna Summer needed an actual date with the Grim Reaper in order to be deemed worthy. Then again, this is just a nomination. We’ll see how it works out in the end. For what it’s worth, Ronstadt, whose voice was the foundation stone upon which the seventies-era California Rock scene was effectively built, has been eligible since 1992. She should have been in at least fifteen years ago. A lot of people have suggested that if she ever made it out of the nominating committee she would sail to election. Now that this theory is finally being put to the test, I hope I haven’t been truly paranoid all these years in suspecting it wouldn’t be that simple. We shall see.

In summation this is a good batch of nominees though, as usual, I could imagine it being still better. I could easily vote for nearly everyone on this ballot in a given year, especially N.W.A., LL Cool J, Kiss and, of course, Nirvana. As with last year, I’m leaving off the most obvious choice (in this case, Nirvana) on the grounds that they won’t need my support. You can go to the Hall’s voting site here to cast a let-my-voice-be-heard-in-however-small-a-way ballot.

I’m casting mine for Ronstadt, Hall and Oates, Chic, Deep Purple and Link Wray.

 

SEGUE OF THE DAY (11/16/12)

Barry White/Blondie

Barry White “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love Babe” (Live Television Performance)

Blondie “Detroit 442” (Live)

Simple trip to town. Forgot the CD I meant to take with me. Had to stick with the radio. Tried the music stations–got put off by the album version of the “Help Me Rhonda,” rock snobbery truly run amok, especially in this, the first post-1962 era when the Beach Boys are not a constant presence on the radio everywhere (which I know because my home market is still marginally included in the phrase “everywhere.”)

Tried the talk shows out of desperation. Sports, PBS. Even listened to the right-wingers for a bit (you’ll be shocked to know that nothing has changed…the apocalypse still looms!)

Finally–finally!–“I Can’t Get Enough Of Your Love Babe” came out of the button-pushing ether and led straight on through “Call Me” before the ether fought back (and yeah, I know, I posted “Detroit 442” instead…sorry couldn’t find any footage of “Call Me” that competed with Barry White’s carpet coat on the Midnight Special).

Thought unbidden…You wanna know about the seventies? Let me tell you about the seventies. That was when you had to really watch yourself, because the three-hundred black dude with the process ‘do might be trying to get inside your girlfriend’s head and the blonde who looked like a movie star might be asking you to come a little closer so she could knee you in the nuts.

Hey, I didn’t say the thought was true or profound or enlightening or anything such thing as that.

Just that it came unbidden.

Conclude as you will.

I’m only the messenger here.

SO MUCH LEFT TO DO…(The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, seventies and early eighties edition)

(This year’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame nominations are due out soon, so I’m stepping up the pace and finishing my series on who I think has been most shunned by the process so far–either by not being discussed, not being nominated or not being voted in on the final ballot. As before: If I can see China and China can see me, I’m for filling the hole. See the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame category at the right of this page to access the lists for the fifties and sixties.)

Barry White “The Trouble With Me” (Live)

Spinners “We’ll Have It Made” (Studio)

The 70s:

War: One of the few truly cosmic bands ever assembled on American soil and the only major artists in any medium who told their L.A. stories as though every person in them mattered.

And in case you think their word didn’t carry–that it was somehow limited in time or space–here’s a transcript of a fondly recalled conversation that took place in the lunch-room lobby of a Deep South high school, circa 1977 (WARNING–boys’ division high school language included):

Incidentally, this was the conclusion of an argument about white music versus black music….they were way past the Bee Gees by then and, for what it’s worth, the white kid was not me:

Black Kid: Oh man! Black people write their own music!
White Kid: You sayin’ the Beatles didn’t write their own music?
Black Kid: The Beatles?…The Beatles older than dog doo-doo!
White Kid: Alright then. Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Black Kid: I’m talking about the Commodores!
White Kid: Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Black Kid: I’m talking about Oh-i-o Players!
White Kid: I’m talking about Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Black Kid: I’m talking about Earth, Wind and Fire mother fucker!
White Kid: I’m talking about Lynyrd Skynyrd mother fucker!
Black Kid: (finally up against it, reaching for the last card in the deck)…WAR mother fucker!
White Kid: (pausing…finally nodding his head)…War…Now that’s some bad-ass mother fuckers!

Look, all I’m saying is that, in the Deep South, in 1977, you couldn’t hold your own with a white boy in a Lynyrd Skynyrd argument by playing the Led Zeppelin card.

For that, you needed War.

The word traveled. (Tried It Can’t Deny It: “Where Was You At?”)

Carole King: (inducted as a non-performer with Gerry Goffin)…Which, you know, ignores her making one of the three or four most important albums of the seventies and pretty much defining an entire genre (James Taylor helped, but frankly, she could have done it without him–I’m not at all sure he could have done it without her). I mean, with her, even the usual, nonsensical, “yeah but she didn’t write it” doesn’t apply. Yet she’s rarely, if ever, so much as discussed. What gives? Is there some kind of rule against inducting someone as both a performer and non-performer?…and is that what’s keeping Smokey Robinson from a double-induction as well?(Tried It Can’t Deny It: “Way Over Yonder”)

Big Star: The old saw had it that the Velvet Underground’s first album only sold 3,000 copies but everybody who bought it started a band. The band Chris Bell and Alex Chilton started was the only one of those that leapt out of the trace and no one–not R.E.M. or the Replacements or the Bangles or X or the Minutemen or Nirvana–has quite got past them. In the city where blues, rockabilly and soul music found their surest footing before marching out to conquer the world, Big Star made something completely new under the sun and that something (on three albums and a handful of asides) is the umbrella that nearly all forward-looking white rock has played under ever since. Seems like that should be enough. (Tried It Can’t Deny It: “Life Is White”)

Spinners: The greatest vocal group of the last decade when that meant something. (Tried It Can’t Deny It: “We’ll Have It Made”)

Barry White: Who else (excepting James Brown in his Godfather-ing role) was a monster in both funk and disco. And isn’t he responsible for about half of the planet’s population growth? Or is that the real problem? Does the Hall really think the one thing worse than dance music is make-out music for adults? Man, this anti-disco thing is beyond ridiculous. (Tried It Can’t Deny It: “The Trouble With Me”)

Linda Ronstadt: Never even nominated so far as I can tell and don’t get me started….

Okay, I’ll start this far….Reportedly black-balled year after year by (among possible other Nom-Com members) Jann Wenner and/or Elvis Costello, both of whom made a mint off of her back in the day (in Costello’s case a mint that, by his own admission, allowed him to tell his record company to take a jump so he could make the two albums that would one day insure his own induction into the Hall–unless, of course, you think he made it on the strength of “Veronica” and “I Write the Book.”)

I hope none of this is really true. That it’s really just something else. Because, gee, if it were true, it would mean they thought they could make her out to be a whore without becoming pimps when really it would be the other way around wouldn’t it?

…Like I said. Don’t get me started. (Tried It Can’t Deny It: “Roll ’Um Easy”)

Donna Summer: The Queen of Disco, among many, many other things. Supposedly, “disco” acts just can’t get in because they aren’t “rock and roll” enough. Leaving aside just how “rock-and-roll” say, Pink Floyd, is for a moment, what this has thus far meant in practice is that black disco acts can’t get in (unless, of course, you think the Bee Gees made it on the strength of “Holiday” and “I Started a Joke.”)

I once read an article (published in a major city newspaper) by a Hall voter who described Summer–she of the several dozen hits across a handful of genres–as a one-hit wonder. (See my article on Summer in the R.I.P. section for the actual link).

It was the totality of his explanation for not voting for her on a past ballot.

I find this sort of reality denial….bizarre. (Tried It Can’t Deny It: “Who Do You Think You’re Foolin’?”)

The (early) 80s:

The Go-Go’s: First all-female this, first all-female that, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah.

All true, of course. But what I really know (because I’ve stuck them in some truly testing places on mix tapes over these last thirty years and also taken secret trips in time machines) is this:

They–and no one else–were able to do what they did because they were a staggeringly great pedal-to-the-metal rock and roll band and if you plan to knock them off the stage at the Battle of the Bands that will be taking place during the Cosmic Sock Hop at the End of the World, you better bring Keith Moon and some really big amplifiers and hope the sophomores would rather fight than bop. (Tried It Can’t Deny It: “Beneath the Blue Sky”)

Cyndi Lauper: The last really inventive rock vocalist who commanded a mass audience. The arc of her career is sort of like Carole King’s: One great era-defining album followed by a solid, successful career which glimmered with shining moments even if it never quite matched that original impact. Guns N’ Roses was deservedly elected in their first year of eligiblity with an eerily similar resume. but Cyndi’s the natural heir of Brenda Lee and Brenda only had to wait sixteen years to get in.

So maybe I shouldn’t start holding my breath just yet. (Tried It Can’t Deny It: “Iko, Iko/What’s Going On”)

NOTE: Summer, Dionne Warwick (who I included on the sixties list), Ronstadt, King and Lauper were all more-than-worthy artists by any standards (let alone the Hall’s existing ones) and genuine superstars of their respective eras. Every single white male artist of even remotely similar stature from the same period is in the Hall (Neil Diamond–the last white man for whom such a case could have been made, albeit with great difficulty, was elected last year).

Believe it or not, there are folks who insist the Hall bends over backwards to include as many women as possible.

Like I said. Bizarre.

ADDITIONAL NOTE: This concludes my take on the Hall’s membership for this year. I’m planning a post on the Big Hall/Small Hall debate fairly soon…after I get my floors done!

Also please note that, while I believe in my picks, I’m in it for fun. No disrespect for anyone else’s ideas, be it the Carpenters or Motorhead …They each have their advocates after all–not to mention their merits–and that’s my idea of rock and roll.