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So…we are now about 4 or 5 weeks out from the Rock Hall announcing its nominees. At this stage in the game, we’ve heard predictions from almost all of the Rock Hall monitors with blogs or websites of their own. I encourage you to click on links taking you to the well thought-out, persuasively argued predictions from Troy Smith, Michelle Bourg, E-rockracy, Tom Lane, Donnie Durham, Charles Crossley, and the star around which we orbit, Future Rock Legends. Lots of other people made predictions on the Future Rock Legends board or in my comments section, but I had to draw the line somewhere, or a fun weekend activity would devolve into tedious number-crunching. Please accept my apologies if your picks weren’t included in this analysis.

One name is notably absent from this list, and that is Philip, who hosts Rock Hall Monitors. Earlier in the summer, Philip wrote a conscientious post encouraging the Nominating Committee to put out a ballot consisting entirely of women and/or persons of color as a means of addressing endemic discrimination in our society. It got a lot of pushback from many quarters, but Philip stuck to his guns. Rather than post a “protest prediction,” he abstained from making choices this year. I likewise urge you to read what he has to say.

To recap, my own picks were: Radiohead, Rage Against the Machine, LL Cool J, Nina Simone, The Zombies, Janet Jackson, War, J. Geils Band, Soundgarden, Eurythmics, Nine Inch Nails, Link Wray, The Smiths, Warren Zevon, Roxy Music, The Shangri-Las, The Spinners, Moody Blues, and PJ Harvey.

Each list had its own character, as always. Troy favored lots of returning nominees, especially from last year’s set. Charles’s list is almost a half-protest: he has 8 picks nobody else chose, and lots of choices from rock’s earlier years. I tended to focus on who has been a bit more high-profile as of late, and developed a two-years-out-of-three philosophy that is probably absolute nonsense.

But all of these lists share some common assumptions: more and better female nominees, a wide range of genres, and a strong presence from Tom Morello, Questlove, and newcomer David Grohl. With the exception of Troy, we all think the Hall will tone down the strong 70s classic rock flavor of the last two years.

Of course, we don’t know if there are more new members, or if some older members of the nominating committee have been shown the door, or left of their own volition. But that is what makes this so fun! Can we master the mind of the notoriously unpredictable Nominating Committee?

Between the 8 of us who made predictions, we agreed unanimously on four artists: Radiohead (the obvious first-year nominee), LL Cool J (a returning nominee who seems like the logical choice for the next rap act), Janet Jackson (a guaranteed ratings boost and one of the greatest hitmakers not in the hall), and Link Wray (who is projected to benefit from the new Rumble movie and Stevie Van Zandt’s brazen endorsement.)

At a near-unanimous 7? Everyone pegged The Cars except for me.

6 out of the 8 think Rage Against the Machine will be on the ballot on their first eligible year, and The Moody Blues will be on the ballot after a quarter-century of eligibility!

5- a narrow majority- are banking on 80s alternative mainstays The Smiths; the Nine Inch Nails; (both nominated for the Classes of 2015 and 2016 but passed over this year) and in the wake of Chris Cornell’s death, Soundgarden.

Half of us can foresee Eurythmics, Warren Zevon, and Kraftwerk. Kraftwerk shows up about half the time, and David Letterman gave a very public nod to Zevon in last year’s ceremony. But for half of us to pick Eurythmics because it basically “feels right?” That’s…interesting.

Three votes for a lot of acts- many of them returning nominees who may or may not show up: The Spinners, War, The Zombies, Roxy Music, Joe Tex, and Bad Company.

A tiny minority of two predictions each for: Nina Simone, Carole King, J. Geils Band, The Marvelettes, Los Lobos, Joe Cocker, Pat Benatar, and Black Flag.

And, of course, there are some elliptical choices. I was alone in suggesting The Shangri-Las and PJ Harvey. Michelle’s were Judas Priest (a popular choice last year), Carly Simon, The Commodores, and Big Star. Troy was delightfully all over the map with MC5, Boston, Peter Frampton, Donny Hathaway (!), Chaka Khan, and Steppenwolf. E-rockracy went with one-and-done nominees Jane’s Addiction and Procol Harum, alongside Motorhead, Foreigner, X, Todd Rundgren, and Alanis Morissette. X was an especially clever choice that would satisfy punk fans and those clamoring for more women in the hall. I wish I had thought of it. Donnie was alone in suggesting Patsy Cline (the only pure country artist on any list), Mary Wells, Kool & the Gang, and the late, lamented George Michael. Charles Crossley had an armada of unique picks: John Coltrane, The Guess Who, The Clovers, Wu-Tang Clan, Roy Brown, Cyndi Lauper, Bon Jovi, and Big Mama Thornton. FRL went with an artist who has been generating a lot of chatter on the site’s message boards (Stevie Nicks) as well as Chuck Brown, Billy Preston, and finally Harry Nilsson in the singer-songwriter slot. Tom Lane didn’t have any picks that weren’t shared (and it’s not like he was being derivative; he was one of the first to list his predictions! Go figure.)

Recent nominees that none of us predicted include The Cure, The Replacements, Depeche Mode, Bad Brains, The Meters, The JBs, and Sting. Other noteworthy absences were Willie Nelson, A Tribe Called Quest, The MonkeesSmashing Pumpkins, any blues act whatsoever aside from J. Geils, Mariah Carey with nearly twenty #1 hits, and the recently deceased Glen Campbell.

What do you think, readers? There are some great picks I wish I had thought of: X, Joe Tex, Stevie Nicks…and I have a funny feeling about The Guess Who this year. But every year, the Nominating Committee surprises us and makes us consider an artist that nobody saw coming. At any rate, in a little over a month, we’ll see who was right.

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who would you see?

My friend and fellow Rock Hall guy, Donnie, posted an interesting question on Facebook. If you could go back in time and see any five artists perform in each decade– who would you pick? Here’s my answers.

1950s:
1. Peggy Lee: a great, versatile talent we don’t talk about today. You wouldn’t have wanted to hear “Fever” live in some badly lit nightclub?
2. Tom Lehrer: Arch, sarcastic, and smarter than everyone in the audience.
3. Harry Belafonte: The calypso craze made Belafonte perhaps the first black teen idol to make it into the mainstream market.
4. Little Richard: Undoubtedly the best showman from rock and roll’s pioneer generation (sorry Elvis), Little Richard’s show would have been gospel and flimflam all rolled into one sexually ambiguous ball of energy.
5. Sam Cooke: One of my favorite singers at a time when he was turning gospel into soul.

1960s:
1. Hamburg-era Beatles: Even McCartney and Starr will tell you the band stopped trying on stage once the screams and shrieks made them inaudible. Instead, I want to see five Beatles on uppers in the Top Ten Club, slowly honing their craft and becoming the greatest rock and roll band ever. I might also try to make out with Astrid if Stu isn’t watching.
2. Aretha Franklin: She’s the Queen of Soul. You think I’m wasting one of my picks on The Dead?
3. James Brown: Brown. At the Apollo. Not to be missed.
4. Nina Simone: I’d give anything to watch her act vacillate between easy lounge music and prophetic condemnation of Jim Crow.
5. Sly & the Family Stone: When they had their shit together, they were the greatest band of their time.

1970s:
1. Elton John (Captain Fantastic era): I saw him a few times since the mid-90s, but I would have rather seen him wearing feather boas, playing loads of deep tracks, and with the full range of his soaring tenor voice intact.
2. Linda Ronstadt: As her Parkinson’s worsens, I realize this is another act I’ll never see live IRL. Instead, take me back to the 70s, with her powerful cover versions and the best pipes in the Top 40. (Also, 1974-era Ronstadt is my celebrity crush.)
3. Allman Brothers: Rock and roll’s greatest (and most disciplined) jam band.
4. The Who: They say that put on the best concert ever in the city of Buffalo at Rich Stadium. The rain starting coming down the minute they began “Love Rein O’er Me.”
5. Parliament-Funkadelic: Let’s see who won that epic battle between parliament’s “get down” and “get up” factions.

1980s:
1. Queen: Was there any greater frontman than Freddie Mercury at the height of his powers?
2. Michael Jackson: Or any all-around performer better than Jackson at the height of his?
3. Bruce Springsteen: I was going to put Guns N Roses in this spot, but screw them. I’ll take a three-and-a-half-hour spiritual experience at the Meadlowlands.
4. Kool & the Gang: Multiple people tell me that this was the best concert they ever went to. I have to see for myself.
5. Dire Straits: Mark Knopfler is currently sitting at the top of my “I need to see this guy before I/he dies” list.

1990s:
1. Nirvana
2. TLC
3. Jimmy Buffett: when Parrothead-mania was still in effect, but he wasn’t overcharging for concert tickets yet
4. A Tribe Called Quest: I’d love to have seen the rap group I most respect.
5. Great Big Sea

2000s:
1. Amy Winehouse: One of the greatest voices of her generation, gone too soon.
2. Enter the Haggis
3. Lady Gaga
4. Alicia Keys
5. Macy Gray

2010s:
1. Sara Bareilles: 
2. Mumford and Sons: There are places where emergent Christians have written masses centered around “Sign No More.”
3. Florence & the Machine
4. Zac Brown Band
5. Aloe Blacc: His take on Lennon’s “Watching the Wheels” blew me away. Should me way more famous than he is.

The story of our lives is written in the music we hold dear. It’s true. Most artists have something akin to Picasso’s “blue period” or Sinatra’s “Capitol years” signaling a particular epoch in their development. Likewise, most listeners have a “college phase” or a “breakup era” or a “dad rock turn” where their habits take some kind of twist that speaks to the changes in one’s lives. As I take stock of the changes in my life over the last five years: getting married, publishing a book, a spiritual turn toward progressive Christianity, I realize that a signal change has happened to me as a listener of rock and roll. After more than fifteen years of deep fandom in which I listened to every droning saxophone solo and chivalrously defended them against their manifold critics, I have fallen out of love with Chicago.

Ah, Chicago. Ever since I could drive, they were among my very favorites. Being a Beatles fan is no special virtue. Everyone– well, all except the sour contrarian- likes The Beatles. It’s square one for any familiarity with contemporary popular music. Similarly, my abiding love for Elton John was hardly eccentric either. Perhaps I faced some pushback during my teenage years when “haha, Elton’s gay!” passed for witty repartee. But being conversant in Elton John’s music was more of a blessing, even if it took a while for it to feel that way. Most of my meager success in life has hinged on getting 55-year-old middle-managers in human resources named Debbie to feel sorry for me, maternally supportive towards me, or see some glimmer of potential in me. There is no quicker way to get into Debbie’s good graces than a robust conversation about Elton John. None.

But Chicago? Being a millennial Chicago fan took balls. Defending their greatness when pushed by record collectors, hipsters, punks, and Big Star fans named Gabe was a challenge that I relished. It all began when I was in a freshman in high school. After seeing them by accident in 1997 (they were touring with The Beach Boys and we had no other choice), I bought, in possibly the whitest move I have ever made, a copy of The Heart of Chicago, 1967-1997. On cassette. At Wal-Mart.

But I fell in love with that greatest hits album. There were the songs I knew Chicago did (“Saturday in the Park”, “Make Me Smile”), songs I knew but I didn’t know Chicago did them (“If You Leave Me Now,” “Beginnings”) and songs I enjoyed, which I hadn’t ever heard before (“Will You Still Love Me?”, “Wishing You Were Here”). I became hooked. The knack for a great melody, the punchy horn lines, the willingness to get political and speak to their times. I loved all that. I sang “Look Away” at karaoke. I learned how to play “Just You’N’Me” on piano. I quit my school’s concert band because our conductor wouldn’t let us play Chicago. (I also quit because I thought marching in uniform was fascist.)

I had to have it all. Slowly, I bought their entire catalog in some form or other. CDs for Christmas and birthdays, cassettes I found in the stacks at Big Lots, and records at garage sales. Every album titled after every roman numeral in existence. I even paid a shady dude $20 for their “lost album” Stone of Sisyphus. And there were concerts. Between 2001 and 2010, I had seen them six times. Including taking my then-girlfriend (who wasn’t a fan) to a show on the night of her college graduation. She immediately thereafter took a summer course in Senegal and broke up with me upon her return. Smart girl.

But none of that mattered. When Chicago was one of only five or six acts I listened to closely, every record seemed….kinda good. Even Chicago 19, drenched in synthesizers, curdled with overproduction, and blighted by Diane Warren ballads. Even Chicago XIII, a manifesto on how democracy can, at its worst, exalt mediocrity. All 8 members wrote songs for the record, unhindered by the fact that only 3 were competent composers. Even saxophonist Walt Parazaider got in on the act with a song called “Window Dreaming” containing lines like “gigs are fun/ when they’re done/ feel so down/ act like a clown.”

But most galling of all was their exclusion from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. On Chicago message boards (yes, I was a moderator…thanks for asking!) we railed against their long exclusion from the exalted halls of Cleveland. We gnashed our teeth as, year after year, the likes of Brenda Lee or Jimmy Cliff or The Ventures got in before our heroes. We had decided, collectively, that those dummies on the committee just didn’t know good music. It was all rigged against Chicago, a petty feud perpetuated by a jealous Jann Wenner.

In hindsight, I can diagnose the problem clearly: I simply lacked a broad palette of musical experiences by which to judge Chicago. In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. If you only listen to 70s Top 40 out of context at the turn of the millennium, of course Chicago will sound good. I liked Chicago because my tastes and experience hadn’t developed to the point where I could evaluate them on their merits. I was the suburban couch potato who thought the Whopper was the best hamburger ever made. I was the undiscerning dittohead who thought Reagan was a great president.

My development as a music listener might have been better off if I had some kind of mentor who could have broadened my musical horizons. An uncle who was into punk and could have me listen without prejudging it. An older brother to hook me onto The Smiths. Maybe if I lived in a more diverse town, I might have gotten an earlier insight into hip-hop, or soul, or latin music. As it is, I had to educate myself, late in my twenties when I was finished with grad school and had the time and headspace to commit to the project. I listened to James Brown performing at The Apollo. To The Talking Heads making use of new tools and a palette of different genres. To Otis Redding singing his heart out. To Joni Mitchell crafting another heartbreaking masterpiece that echoed across Laurel Canyon. And with each new experience, Chicago’s oeuvre seemed a little less special, a bit more like hackwork. And I came to see them as a group that profited- perhaps more than any other artist of the 70s- from our culture’s tendency to exalt white mediocrity while pushing black excellence into the shadows. The same world that bought more Osmond records than Jackson Five records. A world where Mariah Carey can rack up 27 Top Ten hits- almost all of which she wrote- and not be taken seriously as a Rock Hall candidate. Where Green Day got rich whining about suburbia while Nina Simone earned peanuts preaching against injustice. That world.

So, here’s my take on Chicago through the lens of a reluctant maturity: Chicago was a very fine band that put out a few overwrought but ultimately quite good albums during their first few years. Chicago Transit Authority and Chicago V are essential for any quality rock and roll collection. Terry Kath was a somewhat sloppy and unfocused but undoubtedly talented lead guitarist. Danny Seraphine should be on any reputable list of the greatest rock drummers. Peter Cetera was a serviceable singer whose bass lines, at their best, approached the melodicism of McCartney’s. James Pankow was a very capable arranger. While chestnuts are ripe for discovery on some of their other records, the band’s overall output quickly diminished. At first, their refusal to edit bloated double albums into listenable single ones hurt them. Then coke-fueled sessions led them to believe directionless atonal noodling was cutting-edge jazz. Their success deluded them into thinking that anything they could possibly record could be a hit. For a while that was true, but in time, the hits stopped. In a Faustian bargain, they managed a second act in the 80s. But it came at the cost of sidelining their horn section and putting out anonymous power ballads and touring on the oldies circuit. And so, a band with some potential never developed the drive, the soul, the world-sight that every great artist has.

And their fans- at least this one- moved on. Do I hate Chicago? No, of course not. But they have fallen into their most fitting destiny- a solid, perpetually joyful, unchallenging guilty pleasure. In the scheme of things, that’s not a bad legacy either.

I’m ready. Why wait? I realize this post is coming early this year, but I’m comfortable with my predictions, and don’t foresee changing them.

Somewhere in New York City, a group of about two dozen men and women will come together and put together the ballot from which the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s Class of 2018 will be chosen. Some of these will be longtime record industry executives. Others will be musicians, critics and other music writers, academics, and even the odd former MTV VeeJay. This post will try and guess who they will choose, based on previous ballots, news stories, and plain old intuition.

The committee deciding this ballot will have been under a certain degree of public pressure. Some progressive and feminist voices have urged the Rock Hall to work harder to induct worthy female acts, most notably the Inspirer series Induct These Women. This isn’t unwarranted; out of the last four years’ 23 performer acts inducted, only three were women. Only four out of nineteen acts nominated last year were women or included women in their lineup. On top of that, the Nominating Committee has to face a hard reality. Baby boomers continue to dominate the ranks of voters, and nearly every 70s classic rock favorite that gets on the ballot will be inducted, usually at the expense of a more significant act that didn’t have the hits (Kraftwerk) or a more deserving act from the 80s or 90s (Nine Inch Nails, Janet Jackson.) On the other hand, there is the faustian bargain with HBO to consider as well. Bigger acts with mass appeal net bigger audiences for the pay-per-view special, a consideration that may have encouraged Chicago, KISS, and Journey’s nominations after years of being snubbed.

My best guess is that the Nom Com will eschew the Seventies Classic Rock feel of the last few years. Part of this is because there aren’t too many no-brainer acts left from that era. We’d all like the Moody Blues or The Cars to get in one day, but other than that, Bad Company, Styx, and EL&P don’t have quite the same urgency as Deep Purple or Yes once did. Frankly, for all the criticism thrown their way, the Rock Hall has chipped away at inducting the most egregious snubs from that era with remarkable efficiency in the last five or six years.

One factor guiding my choices was a trend that I noticed, which may or may not be significant in the end. Unless the Rock Hall is really pushing an artist (think Chic or NWA), most repeat nominees have shown up two out of the last three years. A striking number meet that criteria: The Spinners, Chaka Khan, Nine Inch Nails, The Smiths, The Cars, Yes, Kraftwerk. I will try to guess partly with this trend in mind. Think of it like the three-field rotation system used in fiefdoms across Medieval Europe. Any given piece of land will lay fallow one-third of the time to let the soil rest and replenish its nutrients. Similarly, snubbing an act can generate as much hype (hey! why isn’t so-and-so on the ballot this year?) as nominating them. All this is to say- if an artist has been nominated the last two years in a row, I’m probably giving them a pass this time.

Also complicating this process is that we just don’t know how many acts will be nominated. In the last four years, we’ve had 15 (Class of 2016), 16 (Class of 2014), and even 19 (Class of 2017) artists on the ballot. So, here’s what I’ll do. I’ll list 15 acts that are definitely on my list. #16 will be contingent on their being 16 nominees, #17 if there are 17 nominees, and so on.

Radiohead: This year has been marked for some time as “the one where Radiohead gets in.”  For years, the Rolling Stone Industrial Complex has been drilling OK Computer‘s greatness into our heads. The last time that Rolling Stone’s experts gathered to name the 100 Greatest Artists of All Time, Radiohead placed #73. When VH1, where many other Nom Com members have roots, did the same, Radiohead did even better (#29). All signs suggest that they will be nominated on their first possible ballot; Radiohead’s presence is about as safe a bet as I can imagine.

Janet Jackson: And now, my exception to the three-field rotation theory. I think Janet is one of those acts that the Rock Hall really wants in, and people like Questlove are on hand to make sure that happens. Janet is one of the most significant artists of post-1980 R&B, a pioneer of visual style and production, who also happens to have one of the biggest caches of Top Ten hits of any modern Top 40 artist. The fact that she’s not in is a veritable justice malfunction. Worthy on her own merits, her induction would also alleviate criticisms that the Rock Hall hasn’t been fair to artists of color, women, and post-baby boom acts. Besides, you need a showstopper for the HBO special, and Janet is perhaps the best all-around entertainer on this list.

L.L. Cool J: The Northumbrian Countdown also projects L.L. Cool J to return to the ballot for the first time since the Class of 2014. Since that year, the Hall has not run two hip-hop/rap artists on the same ballot in order to clear the table for NWA, and then 2pac. This leaves L.L. Cool J. remaining as probably the most historically significant rap artist currently eligible. His recent Kennedy Center honors only adds to his renown. As an added bonus, enough time has passed to make people forget about the god-awful “Accidental Racist,” whose only virtue was giving me an example of false equivalency to use in my history classes.

Nine Inch Nails: If the two-thirds theory holds, we can welcome Trent Reznor back on the ballot after a surprising absence last year. Since the ceremony will be held in Cleveland this time around, the Rock Hall will surely not want to miss out on the fantastic optics of nominating this eminent industrial act on its home turf.

Soundgarden: The tragic suicide of Chris Cornell earlier this year is likely to resonate with the Nominating Committee. Both Tom Morello and Dave Grohl knew him well; Grohl through the early grunge scene in Seattle, and Morello through their collaborations in Audioslave. Soundgarden was a solid contender for “the next alternative/grunge act on the docket” even before this sad occurrence. It’s very likely that Morello and Grohl will use their political capital to try and honor their departed friend.

The Zombies: So, this year, one of the only British Invasion bands still touring went out and performed Odessey and Oracle (one of Rolling Stone‘s Top 100 albums of all time, btw) in its entirety, often to packed houses and rave reviews. On top of this, The Zombies got their very own mini-exhibit in the Rock Hall this July (alas, it opened just a week after my own visit!) Given their influence on indie music and mods like The Jam, the Zombies had an outsized significance that belied their short heyday and limited oeuvre.  The Hall wants them in, and so do I.

The Smiths: This is another returning nominee. It seems like the Nom Com has agreed that this band is the 80s alternative choice they will focus on, perhaps at the expense of The Cure and The Replacements. While Grohl’s addition to the Nom Com got most of the attention, I’ll bet you didn’t notice that MTV and VH1’s Sandy Alouete is also aboard now. When she worked at Reprise Records one of her clients was…wait for it…Morrissey. Between this and The Smiths’ appearance on the ballot for 2015 and 2016, I think it’s fair to think they might show up again. Unless Morrissey wore out his welcome with Alouete (and since it is Morrissey we are talking about, that’s entirely possible).

Nina Simone: This is a risky prediction. She isn’t listed on Future Rock Legends’ master list of previously considered artists. Her connection to rock and roll isn’t obvious and requires a bit of historical context and critical thinking. But look at Joan Baez, someone who admitted in her own induction speech that she wasn’t entirely a rock-and-roller. She got in easily the first time she made a ballot, and her influence on Dylan, Joni Mitchell, and every Lilith Fair artist made her selection fairly uncontroversial. Now that Baez is in, I think the Nom Com might pick another woman with outspoken politics, this time a jazz and blues piano player who aligned with Black Pride and stared down the Jim Crow system. Of course, her suitability is enhanced by the vast number of R&B stars who look up to Simone, not the least of which is Beyonce, who put in some Nina ‘easter eggs’ in her Lemonade videos. Just last month, the Turning the Tables project listed her I Put A Spell On You album as the third greatest album by a woman.

War: This may be indicative of nothing, but this multi-racial funk band has been nominated regularly in three-year intervals: 2009, 2012, 2015…and 2018? The Nom Com loves 70s soul; Questlove and many others think highly of them. This is a band that’s easy to nominate, but perhaps hard to induct.

Link Wray: His nomination for the Class of 2014 was greeted with acclaim by rock historians and record collectors, even if he didn’t get in. This 1950s power chord innovator may get another chance, thanks to the impending release of the film Rumble, exploring Native American contributions to popular music. The film boasts involvement from two Nom Com members, Robbie Robertson (who is himself of Mohawk heritage) and Steve Van Zandt.

Warren Zevon: One of the highlights of last year’s ceremony was David Letterman’s speech for Pearl Jam, arranged at the last minute when Neil Young was too ill to do the honors himself. Letterman’s funny, moving panegyric to the famous grunge band ended with a wish that his friend and frequent Late Show guest, Warren Zevon, would be inducted. Letterman might get his wish sooner than he expects. The Hall loves nominating elliptical, but darkly poignant, singer-songwriters: Leonard Cohen, Randy Newman, Tom Waits: all of them were not only got nominated, but inducted with minimal fuss. Happily, Letterman’s maestro, Paul Shaffer, is on the committee and usually serves as music director for the ceremony. He’s in a good position to facilitate werewolves in Cleveland this year.

Roxy Music: There is nothing in the news that suggests this will happen, but geez…it’s got to be one of these years, right?

J. Geils Band. It seems unlikely that the Hall would nominate so many deceased artists, but J. Geils got a nomination last year, so it is unlikely they would be denied after the death of their namesake member. At any rate, the Rock Hall is pretty fond of the blues, so they’d be under consideration even without a visitation from the “death fairy.” The Nom Com often takes a “wait your turn” approach, and it seems J. Geils is somehow ahead of Johnny Winter and John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers in the “white boys playing the blues” queue.

Eurythmics: The need for more women in the Rock Hall could redound to the benefit of Annie Lennox. I considered solo Stevie Nicks for this spot as well, but the Hall loves soul, and few people did more to infuse the sometimes sterile feel of new wave with soulful vocals. Lennox has been fairly visible the last few years, between appearances at the Grammys and an acclaimed album of standards. From their history-making videos, to the overt girl power of “Sisters are Doing It For Themselves,” the Eurythmics tick all the boxes we might associate with likely Rock Hall nominees.

Rage Against the Machine: And I’m bookending my original 15 picks with another act eligible for the first time this year. Here’s what I think will go down: Tom Morello’s philosophy is such that he’ll probably say something like, “it’s bullshit that I get to be on the nominating committee that might put my band in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It’s also bullshit that Rage Against the Machine could get in before MC5, before Judas Priest, maybe before Nine Inch Nails, and other bands that influenced us. Please- don’t nominate us this year.” I’m willing to bet, though, that someone on the committee makes a case like this: “right now, the machine is in full force. A bloodthirsty form of capitalism is running amok. Bigotry is going unchallenged. Law enforcement is killing unarmed black men in the name. We need Rage Against the Machine now, more than ever.” And I’m willing to bet that Morello relents.

So those are my predictions if there are fifteen nominees, the historical norm for the last decade or so. But if there are sixteen, add The Shangri-Las. While fellow-girl group The Marvelettes have been nominated before, The Shangri-Las probably have more contemporary relevance, and at any rate, Marvelettes supporters were likely the sort of committee members who got axed in the Great Purge of 2015. The Shangri-Las had a darker, more serious edge to them, influencing Amy Winehouse, Blondie, and countless others.

If there’s seventeen, add Moody Blues. It’s astonishing that they haven’t been nominated before. While there’s little to suggest any real movement in their favor this year, the Rock Hall’s trend of nominating popular hitmakers from the 1960s, 70s, and 80s is undeniable. I am really loathe to predict this band- not because I don’t like them, but because their presence would almost certainly block a Zombies induction.

Eighteen nominees? Make it The Spinners. Cliff Burnstein, a known advocate of theirs, remains on the committee, and are enjoyed by Questlove as well. My two-thirds guideline would also predict a return nomination by The Spinners.

And if last year’s total of nineteen nominees is repeated, my final prediction would be PJ Harvey.  It’s a stretch- she also seems to have not been considered before by the committee, but then, she only became eligible last year. One possible advocate to look for would be Lenny Kaye. Kaye was a member of the Patti Smith Group, and Harvey is one of the more important heirs to Smith’s legacy. Critics such as those on the committee have usually held PJ Harvey in great esteem, and when Rolling Stone met to determine the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, an eyebrow-raising three of them were hers. (To emphasize how impressive that is, consider that Elvis, Madonna, The Clash, Marvin Gaye, and Michael Jackson also had three albums on the list.)

So those are my best guesses for the ballot this year. Remember, these are merely who I ~think~ will be nominated, not my picks for the most deserving of the honor. All told, I think this would be a strong ballot if it happened, although some would decry its lack of pure classic rock.  Even with 19 picks at my disposal, though, there were many other artists I wish I could have included. I don’t have any country, or heavy metal, or true punk artists on the list. I’m also worried that there are too many deceased artists among my projections.  Simone, Wray, Zevon, Chris Cornell, J. Geils, and all but one classic-era Spinner are gone. And it pained me to leave off Devo (which shares NIN’s Ohio origins), Depeche Mode, Foreigner, Carole King, Kraftwerk, Joe Cocker, Judas Priest, A Tribe Called Quest, and lots of others.

What do you think of my predictions? If this were actually the ballot, I’d probably vote for Nina Simone, The Zombies, The Spinners, Janet Jackson, and Eurythmics. But the six artists who would get inducted would probably be Radiohead, Janet, Nina, Moody Blues, Nine Inch Nails, and LL Cool J.

In the weeks ahead, keep your eyes peeled for other predictions- most of the other Rock Hall watchers are listed on my blogroll, and their writings are definitely worth a look. When the ballot is finally announced sometime in October, I hope you’ll revisit the Countdown as we pick it apart and try to guess who will be inducted.

 

Here we are at the last of the three posts which highlight worthy candidates for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s auxiliary categories. I have for your consideration a dozen picks for the now seldom-used Early Influence category. One problem is that the past keeps catching up to us: artists like Wanda Jackson and Freddie King were given a backdoor induction into the Hall through this category after failing to get enough votes as performers on the ballot. It’s problematic, partly because our criteria for “early” keeps changing.  The Nom Com grows less likely to pick artists from rock and roll’s infancy and voters are less likely to choose them when they do.

  1. Sister Rosetta Tharpe: This gospel blueswoman has become a cause célèbre among Rock Hall followers. Listen to her music and you can hear the blueprints of rock and roll being painstakingly drawn up. While the blues and country are important strands of the story, both are riddled with loss and lamentation. Where does the joy come from? I think it’s the gospel influences, and their call-and-responses, their profound hope are a large part of the answer.  Tharpe had all that in spades, and had all the marks of authenticity classic rockers love: she played the guitar, and she wrote her own music. She helped bring gospel into the mainstream, merging the genre in a convincing synthesis with the jump blues. Sister Rosetta was all about rock and roll’s paramount mission: finding a meeting ground of the sacred and the profane. She helped usher Little Richard into fame, and was listed as a major formative influence for artists as varied as Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Aretha Franklin, and Tina Turner. There’s even hints of social conscience to come in her music– listen to her admonition to “study war no more” in the gospel classic “Down By the Riverside.”
  2. Patsy Cline: You can certainly make an argument for Patsy Cline to get in as a performer rather than an influence. The chronology is right, but for me, the genre isn’t. She was a Nashville-centered country-and-western artist who recorded material almost wholly from that milieu. Maybe if she had lived longer, she might have done a trio with the Everly Brothers, or gone on tour with Linda Ronstadt or something, but we’ll never know. What we do know is how Patsy Cline is one of the most articulate and resonant popular music vocalists of the 20th century, and her contralto sound looms large over a throng of vocalists. To listen to her songs is to know loneliness and loss intimately.
  3. Ivory Joe Hunter: Fellow Rock Hall guy Charles Crossley recently came up with a master list of 1,100 artists for Cleveland’s consideration that puts my list of 100 to shame. #1 on his list is Ivory Joe Hunter. My own philosophy is that artists who peaked artistically before 1954 should be “early influences”– and Hunter would be a very fine addition in that category. His work in the late 40s and early 50s found a way to merge blues and country- two of the “primary color” genres that created rock and roll. While other artists in these genres were ragged, Hunter was often smooth and soulful, and his “Landlord Blues,” “Since I Met You Baby,” and “Pretty Mama Blues” are essential listening.
  4. The Carter Family: The Carters lit up the country circuit as far back as 1926 and remained a presence on the American music scene well into the 1950s and 1960s. Maybelle Carter was one of the first country singers to use a guitar, and with the help of Leslie Riddle, they scoured the countryside for the music of the South, Appalachia, and the Ozarks. In doing so, their songs, “Will The Circle Be Unbroken,” “Keep on the Sunny Side,” and “Wildwood Flower” remain standards to this day. June Carter, of course, was part of this family line.
  5. Roy Brown: Dave Marsh, in his book of rock lists, went to town trying to list over 100 candidates for the very first rock and roll song. Quite a few of them were Roy Brown’s- no doubt, you’ve heard “Good Rocking Tonight,” and maybe “Rockin’ at Midnight” and “Hard Luck Blues” as well. Rolling Stone’s Encyclopedia of Rock and Roll notes that he was a fundamental part of shaping the New Orleans sound, and that B.B. King and Bobby Bland modeled their singing style after his enthusiastic jump blues vocals.
  6. Charlie Patton: Tom Lane has brought Patton’s name up on his own blog as a possible Early Influence nominee. And since Patton is widely regarded as “The Father of the Delta Blues,” it’s hard to deny him that honor. His epic “High Water Everywhere” told the tale of the devastating 1927 Mississippi floods. Temperamental, wild, and dying at the age of 43, leaving a trail of wives and girlfriends in his wake, he lived the quintessential blues life.
  7. Sonny Boy Williamson I: The blues changed the moment Williamson stepped forward and used the harmonica as a lead instrument. His output shaped the Chicago blues scene, and he even served as a mentor to Muddy Waters and Jimmy Rogers. His murder at the age of 34 ended the life of a great artist. It’s not his fault that another harmonica player purloined his name and made a career out of being a Sonny Boy imposter.
  8. Lonnie Donegan: The fate of the world changed unexpectedly when Lonnie Donegan became the face of the skiffle craze in Britain in the 1950s. All across the British Isles, youngsters imitated Donegan’s use of homemade instruments like tea-chest basses and washboard percussion as he performed Jimmie Rodgers and Lead Belly songs in a fast, fervent style. It’s well known that the Quarrymen began as a skiffle group, unskilled even by the genre’s undemanding standards- but Ronnie Wood, Graham Nash, Roger Daltrey, and Robin Trower all started out as British skiffle devotees. It introduced a generation of schoolchildren in the U.K. to Americana.
  9. Harry Belafonte: It’s hard to believe- but Harry Belafonte vs. Elvis Presley was a legitimate teen idol debate in 1956. At the same time as ElvisMania began, the calypso craze engulfed America. Belafonte was its herald, as his album Calypso stayed at #1 for 8 weeks. Belafonte’s music tried to find points of connection between the folk music ethic and the music of his Caribbean ancestry. In the process, Belafonte developed a profound social conscience. He was a strong celebrity presence in the civil rights movement; how many people know that he paid for Martin Luther King, Jr.’s funeral out of his own pocket? His battles blazed a path for future rock and roll entertainers. When Petula Clark touched his arm when they sang “On the Path to Glory” on Clark’s television show, it ignited a national controversy. No white woman had touched a black man on national television. When Southern television stations threatened to not show the program, Belafonte told Clark, “let’s take ’em on.” Clark’s producer destroyed all other takes of their duet without touching, and the show was broadcast to rave reviews. Belafonte, I might add, is also on good terms with the Rock Hall. He helped induct both Pete Seeger and Public Enemy.
  10. Tom Lehrer: This Harvard-trained mathematics professor was also one of the greatest satirists of the 20th century. When Borscht Belt foolishness like Allan Sherman dominated musical comedy, his dark, cynical perspective skewered Cold War nihilism with such numbers as “We Will All Go Together When We Go” and “So Long Mom.” In an age where cloying numbers about halcyon days past were topping the charts, Lehrer turned The Browns’ “The Old Lamplighter” into “The Old Dope Peddler.” Any time a rock and roller uses satire to skewer a social problem, they owe Lehrer a debt- whether it’s Randy Newman songs, Weird Al’s sharper material (“Whatever U Like,” “Skipper Dan”), Dead Kennedy’s “Holiday in Cambodia” or Faith No More’s “We Care A Lot.”
  11. Odetta: Folk met the blues with this singular talent. Folk music could at times be wearily NPR-ish and insistent on authenticity, but Odetta made sure it had the blues’ naturalism and rhythm intact. The folk revival of the 1950s and early 1960s laid the groundwork for rock and roll to address the great struggles that would face the nation in the Vietnam era, and Odetta was one of the most crucial figures in that movement. Like recent Rock Hall inductee Joan Baez, she sang at the March on Washington and was a steady presence at civil rights marches. Oh- and Bob Dylan credits her as the person who piqued his interest in folk music.
  12. Django Reinhardt: Behold- Europe’s first guitar hero. His gypsy stylings worked beautifully with jazz, and everyone from Chet Atkins to The Allman Brothers have imitated his fluid stylings. The photographer Harry Benson once remembered from his time with The Beatles: John loved talking about the intellectuals he had met. Paul loved talking about the movie stars he’d met. Ringo loved talking about the royalty he’d met. George talked about Django Reinhardt. “I’ll never be as good as he is,” Benson recollected Harrison saying, “but that’s what I’m aiming for.” Or consider Jerry Garcia’s praise: “His technique is awesome! Even today, nobody has really come to the state that he was playing at. As good as players are, they haven’t gotten to where he is. There’s a lot of guys that play fast and a lot of guys that play clean, and the guitar has come a long way as far as speed and clarity go, but nobody plays with the whole fullness of expression that Django has.”
  13. Ah, what the heck. Let’s make it a baker’s dozen and include Wynonie Harris. His profane variations of the jump blues had the swing and verve that is identifiable as protean rock and roll. Even a young Elvis Presley watched him, and incorporated his vocal stylings and physical presence into his own act. With songs like “I Like My Baby’s Pudding,” you can see where Big Joe Turner and others got the idea of lacing their songs with delicious innuendo.  Harris helped bring “race music,” as it was called back then, from the (relative) margins and into the public consciousness.

Last time, I listed 20 ideal recipients of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s Musical Excellence Award. I am now going to pivot to Non-Performers. In doing so, I realize that there is a fine, sometimes arbitrary line between these categories. I suppose many of these individuals are performers in some aspect or another. But their work behind the scenes took priority. In no particular order, my 15 picks for Non-Performers for the Rock Hall’s consideration.

  1. Robert Moog: Um…he invented the electronic synthesizer. Even if EDM isn’t your bag, imagine Depeche Mode, or Van Halen’s “Jump”, or 70s art rock or Abbey Road without this remarkable instrument. He’s in the Inventors Hall of Fame– so why not the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?
  2. Rick Rubin: What a great career, what an eclectic mastery of production. He started Def Jam, an institutional pillar of hip-hop. He produced great albums for artists all over the map, ranging from Jay Z to The Black Keys to Beastie Boys to Johnny Cash to Red Hot Chili Peppers to Tom Petty to…ah, you can look it up for yourself. Put this man in the hall.
  3. Sylvia Robinson: I’m shocked that her life hasn’t been made into a musical at this point. She started out as half of the Mickey & Sylvia duo that had a hit with “Love Is Strange” back in the 1950s. Flash forward 15 years, and a largely forgotten starlet has lightning strike a second time. She records some music with Al Green and scores an R&B #1 with “Pillow Talk,” one of the first true disco records. Using money from her recent success, she starts Sugarhill Records, and ends up producing the first rap song to break into the public consciousness, “Rapper’s Delight”– strapping on a bass herself to emulate the famous Chic bass line. Goes on to produce “The Message” for Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. Holy Crap.
  4. Alan Lomax: It’s the 1930s and America is in the midst of the Depression. One of the cleverer moves of the New Deal was to give artists and intelligentsia something to do in hopes the they wouldn’t foment a bloody revolution out of ennui and material deprivation. Accordingly, Alan Lomax and his father John, two ethnomusicologists, were dispatched down South to study the music of rural- and particularly black- America. His oral history projects allowed Jelly Roll Morton and other artists to record their thoughts in addition to their recordings. His radio shows broadcast folk music and so-called “race music’ to the rest of the country, the conduit by which many Americans became aware of Woody Guthrie, Robert Johnson, Pete Seeger, and Lead Belly.
  5. Burt Bacharach & Hal David: One reason this famous songwriting team hasn’t gotten in is because their compositions evoke cocktail hour, plastic on the furniture, and beehive hairdos on housewives. View them, if you like, as the progenitors of adult contemporary, music informed by rock and roll designed for older listeners. Hey, that’s how Journey got in. And Bacharach-David compositions hold up just as well: “Baby, It’s You,” “Walk On By,” “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head,” “(They Long To Be) Close To You,” “Wishing and Hoping,” “I Say A Little Prayer for You.” Milquetoast songs, perhaps, but that’s partly because of who recorded them. Listen to Aretha’s “Little Prayer” and you’ll hear the power that’s dormant in these compositions.
  6. Joe Meek: When I was an 18-year-old studying in London, little did I know that every time I walked by Holloway Road on my way to the Highbury & Islington tube stop, I was passing by rock and roll’s holy ground. Using electronic wizardry with a  homemade control panel, Joe Meek is credited with the development of reverb, extensive multi-tracking, physically separating instruments during the recording process, and sampling in his nondescript studio on Holloway Road. Paranoid, drug-adled, and a gay man during a time when same-sex acts were still illegal in the UK, Meek did not live an easy or serene life. He ultimately killed his landlady before turning the trigger on himself. Strangely, Nick Moran’s film Telstar barely moved the dial on raising awareness of this singular visionary.
  7. Bob Geldof: One of the elements of rock and roll’s story that I most appreciate is its charitable and beneficent impulses. Live Aid and Band Aid were overblown, overhyped, and rightly mocked by Faith No More’s “We Care A Lot.” Most of the money didn’t get to the people it was intended for in Africa. Worse, much of the largesse ended up in the hands of the Ethiopian dictator Mengistu, who used much of  Live Aid’s beneficence to build the largest army in Africa. For better or worse, Geldof epitomizes the rock star as a saint, a patron, a champion of a good cause. As one Atlantic article notes, Geldof’s Live Aid efforts “raised questions about the efficacy of celebrities advocating for foreign aid, but it also undoubtedly changed the nature of fundraising by introducing the factor of high visibility thanks to celebrity philanthropists.” Did it matter? Consider the take of Chris Martin of Coldplay: ““It made my generation feel like caring for the world was part of the remit. Rock and roll doesn’t have to be detached from society.”
  8. Don Cornelius: Questlove has allegedly already got his sights on inducting this Soul Train maestro. For over two decades, Cornelius brought the best of R&B into American televisions. In so doing, he broadened Philadelphia soul, 80s R&B, and (reluctantly) hip-hop beyond black and urban environments. Over the years, EW&F, The Spinners, Mary J. Blige, Patti LaBelle, The O’Jays, Lenny Kravitz, Run-DMC…you name it, they were aboard the Soul Train at some point in their careers.
  9. Wolfman Jack: American Graffiti probably immortalized him as the very voice of rock and roll for a certain generation. His canus lupus schtick was always a reminder of rock and roll’s primal power and barely concealed camp. Deejays are an overlooked part of the rock and roll story, and honoring the Wolfman would be a powerful corrective.
  10. Butch Vig: If we’re going to run the board on producers, let’s get Vig in the hall, huh? If we’re going to induct the best 90s grunge bands, it’s sensible to include the dean of 90s grunge producers. That was Butch Vig behind the panel on Nevermind, Siamese Dream, and other classics of that era. When you consider grunge’s obsession with personal authenticity, producing for its darlings must have been one of the greatest challenges in the industry during the early 90s.
  11. Florence Greenberg: Imagine how challenging it must have been to start your own record label as a woman in the early 60s.  (It wasn’t easy.) But let’s say you go for it, and then your daughter finds a group of classmates to record for you who ultimately call themselves The Shirelles. You sell their record contract to Decca but stay on as their manager. (Do you know any other female managers for musicians during that era? I don’t.) But- surprise!- Decca has no idea how to market four black teenage girls. So, Decca lets the girls go, you start another record label, promote the hell out of them with the meager resources at your disposal, and get kickass songwriters like Luther Dixon and Carole King to write material for them. Group goes on to record “Baby, It’s You,” “Boys,” “Dedicated to the One I Love,” and one of the single best recordings of the early 60s, “Will You Love Me Tomorrow.”
  12. Joel Whitburn: Sometimes, a great hobby can turn into an incredible career. Whitburn collected the Billboard charts faithfully as a teen in the 1950s, charting the rise and fall of records with passion of a fanboy and the thoroughness of a Supreme Court clerk. In the decades since, Whitburn became perhaps the single biggest authority on music charts. I’ll bet that every time a radio station has noted a record’s peak position on the charts, or how long it’s been on the Hot 100, they are citing some research that had its origins with Whitburn.
  13. Bernie Taupin: Look, when I wrote my 100 Greatest Elton John songs series five years ago on this blog, I took a number of justifiable shots at Bernie. He invented the word “Turtlesque,” “Indian Sunset” is riddled with anachronisms, and the level of misogyny was shocking even for the mid-70s (“Dirty Little Girl,” “Island Girl,” “All the Girls Love Alice,” etc.) Nevertheless, you can’t induct Elton John without Bernie Taupin. At his best, Taupin was startlingly fresh, earnest, and daring. When you consider that lyrics about Elton’s temper (“The Bitch Is Back”), a gender-bending glam rock band (“Bennie and the Jets”), and a vengeance-driven Confederate (“My Father’s Gun”) all worked, it becomes clear that Taupin is a pop wordsmith of the highest quality.
  14. Norman Whitfield: Marvelettes fans notwithstanding, the Rock Hall has done right by Motown many times over. But if they still want to mine Hitsville, USA for more rock ‘n roll goodness, Norman Whitfield deserves some plaudits. He piloted The Temptations, Gladys Knight & the Pips, and Marvin Gaye through the late 60s and early 70s, more or less inventing psychedelic, socially-conscious soul music in the process. So, in other words, he’s the guy who was responsible for the finished product of…let’s see…both Motown versions of “Grapevine,” “Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone” (one of the best produced songs of all-time, imo), “Just My Imagination,” “War,” and (sigh…) “Car Wash.”
  15. Greil Marcus: Nobody likes a critic. More often than not, their reviews bring out the worst in musicians, the worst in readers, the worst in themselves. But Greil Marcus has consistently been one of the sharpest, most insightful, and least punchable of the rock and roll literati. His Mystery Train, written over 40 years ago, might well have been the first indispensable book on rock and roll. An excerpt from an interview he did not too long ago: “We’re driving back down the Peninsula to Menlo Park on Skyline, which is this two-lane mountain highway. It’s completely lonely; there aren’t any lights — it’s two or three in the morning. And this voice comes on the radio and seems to be coming from far away. “When I’m thirsty, some sparkling wine will do real fine, indeed. But right now, baby, it’s some of your loving I need.” It was so spooky. I had no idea what this was. I wrote about it in my first book, Rock and Roll Will Stand, in 1969 — I talked about it as something I heard once, would never hear again, would never know what it was. That’s part of what rock & roll is, part of what the radio is — hearing something once that will haunt you the rest of your life.”  That’s Greil Marcus. He doesn’t need to waste time convincing you he is smart because he actually is smart.

If there’s one thing shared among visitors, writers, and critics who follow the Rock Hall, it is the deeply held belief that the institution isn’t doing justice to some group or other. It might be a genre- heavy metal, or 70s R&B, or 80s alternative. It might be a demographic or time-frame: women, minorities, Gen X music, and so on. I’d argue that one of the bigger dilemmas is that contributors to rock and roll outside of performing artists have the most reason to be aggrieved. I’ve followed the Rock Hall intently for the last four induction cycles. In that time, we had only 3 non-performers (Brian Epstein, Andrew Loog Oldham, and Bert Burns); 3 Musical Excellence recipients (Nile Rodgers, Ringo Starr, and the E Street Band); and a pitiful one lone Early Influence (The “5” Royales. I don’t know why the “5” is in quotation marks either.)

A couple months ago, I solicited advice from some of the other Rock Hall watchers in terms of some good prospects for these categories. Tom Lane, Michelle Bourg (who did her own list), and Charles Crossley, Jr. all came through with some fine suggestions. I took some, rejected others, and did my own research to supplement theirs. What follows are my 20 prospects for Musical Excellence, and I will follow in a later post with 10 Early Influence ideas, and 15 Non-Performers. Keep in mind- this list isn’t intended to be exhaustive, and just because someone you admire isn’t on the list doesn’t mean that I don’t think they are Rock Hall-worthy. This is merely a list of who I see as the biggest priorities, or who I would advocate for if given the chance.

  1. Brian Eno: It’s hard to think of a producer, musician, and visionary who has played a greater role in the unfolding of rock and roll in cerebral, abstract, and atmospheric directions. From his early work playing keyboards for Roxy Music, to his production for David Bowie, U2, Coldplay, and many others, to his groundbreaking ambient albums, Eno is a towering figure in 20th century music, not just rock and roll.
  2. Willie Nelson: He’s not early enough to be an early influence. He has rock and roll characteristics, sure, but he is widely thought of as a country artist. Why not just give The Red-Headed Stranger a Musical Excellence Award and be done with it? His career has spanned decades, he became one of the greatest touring artists in modern history, and he routinely traversed the frontiers between genres. He’s in his mid-80s now, so let’s do the right thing and honor him while he’s among the living. And bring plenty of munchies to the after-party.
  3. Funk Brothers: The lineup fluctuated, but they ultimately played on more #1 hits than The Beatles and Elvis combined. Bassist James Jamerson is already inducted, but Joe Messina, Earl Van Dyke, and Benny Benjamin have played on dozens of the great Motown songs you know and love. From the ethereal organ of the Four Tops’ “Bernadette” to the rattlesnake tambourine in “I Heard It Through the Grapevine” they always knew how to accentuate a great song. Otis Williams of The Temptations once opined that The Funk Brothers “must go down in history as one of the best groups of musicians anywhere.” Always essential and always unobtrusive. Berry Gordy did his best to make sure they didn’t get enough credit to enjoy leverage and bargaining power. So let’s make sure they are enshrined in the Rock Hall and give them the plaudits that so often eluded them in the prime of their careers.
  4. Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section: They contributed the snappy arrangements and solid musicianship behind Wilson Pickett, Aretha Franklin, and other soul greats of the 1960s and 1970s. Organist Spooner Oldham is already in, but his colleagues are left out in the cold, just like most of the Funk Brothers.
  5. Todd Rundgren: If ever there was a good fit for this category, Rundgren is it. None of his bands–Nazz or Utopia–quite have a Rock Hall resumé, and certainly Rundgren’s chops as a producer need to be taken into account as well. He should be inducted, if only to hear Meat Loaf’s speech and to get “Bang on the Drum” as the jam at the end of the show.
  6. Lee “Scratch” Perry: His recording career and his production work with Bob Marley and the Wailers helped put reggae on the map. Prolific and confrontational, he has also been a champion for reggae artists who have been taken advantage of by major record labels. He’s also collaborated with a number of artists outside his immediate field, including Paul McCartney and The Beastie Boys.
  7. Carol Kaye: Seriously. How is this woman not in the Rock Hall yet? While other members of the famous Wrecking Crew are in, including drummer Hal Blaine and pianist Leon Russell, their bass player and sometimes-guitarist is still inexplicably left out. Never mind Kaye’s obstacles making it as a female instrumentalist in a stubbornly male field, her track record is astounding. That’s her playing on everything from “California Girls” by The Beach Boys, to “La Bamba” by Ritchie Valens, to Freak Out! by Frank Zappa & the Mothers, to one of my favorite guilty pleasures, “Midnight Confessions” by The Grass Roots. Music writers use the word “inexcusable” a lot when talking about the omissions of their pet favorites. This one is actually inexcusable.
  8. The JBs: They earned a surprise nomination for the Class of 2016, shocking the hell out of everybody, even though Future Rock Legends listed them as “Previously Considered.” They are, of course, best known as James Brown’s backing band, although they released a number of fine titles under their own name. They are significant, firstly, for their role in helping the Godfather of Soul create the elemental groove of funk music. But secondly, their horn riffs, and drum lines, and bass parts are among the most sampled in hip-hop.
  9. Billy Preston: The Rock Hall sometimes gets into a bad habit of inducting everybody associated with The Beatles- perhaps partly because it is a guaranteed ratings boost. Preston may not be the true “Fifth Beatle”- George Martin earns that title, with Neil Aspinall and Mal Evans as backups- but his skill at the electric organ saved the moribund “Get Back” sessions from outright collapse. More than that, Preston had a number of fine, upbeat R&B tracks in the 70s, including “Outa Space”, “Will It Go Round in Circles”, and “Nothing From Nothing.” He was one of the great session and touring sidemen of rock history, working with three solo Beatles, Eric Clapton, The Rolling Stones, Ray Charles, Little Richard, and even the Red Hot Chili Peppers. He also wrote “You Are So Beautiful” and his philosophy of serial monogamy inspired Stephen Stills to write “Love the One You’re With.” Quite a legacy.
  10. The Revolution: If we are going to induct the E Street Band, why not them? If they were ever going to get it, it should have been the ceremony directly after Prince’s death. They truly lived up to their name, revolutionary in their gender and racial make-up, and revolutionary in bringing together funk, R&B, 80s technology, and pop sensibilities that helped Prince become one of the preeminent artists of his day.
  11. The Section: Look- 70s singer-songwriter and soft rock was a hell of a lot more musically sophisticated and difficult to play than anybody gave it credit for. The genre favored the composer over the ensemble, so the backing musicians behind the artist were often consigned to obscurity. Leland Sklar, Russ Kunkel, Craig Doerge, and Danny Kortchmar were iconic and inescapable. Here’s a partial list of their oeuvre: Carole King’s Tapestry, CSN and affiliated solo projects, Linda Ronstadt’s work, Sweet Baby James, “Werewolves in London,” Jackson Browne, Dan Fogelberg. They are Laurel Canyon.
  12. MFSB: Similarly, the hi-hat-focused beat of disco gets overlooked as well, and MFSB, more or less the house band on the Gamble and Huff recordings, should also be inducted. They had a hit of their own with “The Sound of Philadelphia,” and laid down the beat for The O’Jays, The Spinners, Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes. But maybe their most historically significant recordings were for artists like The Trampps, which established the contours of what a good, artistically sound disco recording should be like.
  13. Randy Rhoads: He’s in the conversation as one of the greatest rock guitarists of all time, but he somehow isn’t in the Hall. His playing for Ozzy Osbourne, among others, added the classicist’s precision to the dark and brooding brand of Ozzy’s metal, and his untimely death in the 1980s has only added to his legend. Incidentally, Nom Com member Tom Morello actually named one of his kids after Randy Rhoads, so you know there’s a good chance that this induction might actually happen.
  14. Ry Cooder: Another one of the legendary guitarists who should be honored with an induction. Rolling Stone named him 8th on its list of all-time guitarists. His back-to-the-roots style was a great fit for the 1970s, and added much of the character and proficiency that made The Stones’ Sticky Fingers, Randy Newman’s mid-decade output, and Captain Beefheart’s Safe As Milk so memorable.
  15. The Andantes: There’s an interesting precedent here with Darlene Love. As many rock hobbyists know, Phil Spector ushered in The Crystals’ career. But as he maniacally attempted to perfect their sound, he brought in uncredited singers to take their place, ultimately using more fake Crystals than a sketchy Atlantic City jeweler. One of them, Darlene Love, was finally- at the urging of Steve Van Zandt- nominated and inducted. The Andantes are sort of the parallel for Motown- unsung, uncredited, and poorly remembered. When the relationship between Diana Ross and the other Supremes, Mary Wilson and Cindy Birdsong, became toxic, The Andantes backed Ross on the last few years’ worth of Supremes records, a run that included a handful of #1 hits. They also provided the female background vocals on hits like “Baby, I Need Your Loving” and “Reach Out (I’ll Be There),” and whenever a woman’s voice was needed on Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On.” That’s them playing off Mary Wells during the coda of “My Guy.” An unheralded group that deserves better.
  16. The Meters: Like The JBs, this funk outfit has been nominated before as an artist, and probably didn’t come even close to getting the votes necessary for induction. Of course, as stand-alone artists, The Meters are very fine. “Cissy Strut” and “Look-Ka Py Py” have deep grooves and unassailable musicianships. But The Meters also carved out a niche as the backing group for anybody passing through New Orleans.  As Allen Toussaint’s house band, they also played on records by Dr. John, Wings, Paul Simon, Joe Cocker…the list goes on. And like The JBS, their funky riffs have been used liberally in hip-hop samples for over three decades running. I can’t wait for Trombone Shorty’s induction speech.
  17. Al Kooper: The Forrest Gump of rock and roll. He seemed to have been there at so many key moments. He played on The Royal Teens’ “Short Shorts” (alongside future Four Season Bob Gaudio). He wrote “This Diamond Ring” for Gary Lewis and the Playboys. Despite never playing organ before, he faked his way into a Bob Dylan session and played that iconic part on “Like A Rolling Stone.” He founded Blood, Sweat & Tears. He discovered Lynyrd Skynyrd (hey, no one’s perfect.) He played guitar on Who’s Next and Electric Ladyland. Amazing resumé.
  18. Nikolas Ashford & Valerie Simpson: It would be a shame if, like Carole King, they got in as non-performers, because they had a fine run of hits on their own auspices. But they are most well known for their songwriting efforts together, which included most of the Marvin Gaye/Tammi Terrell duets (including “Ain’t Nothing Like the Real Thing” and “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough”), and “I’m Every Woman.” They even did an underrated album, Been Found, featuring collaborations with Maya Angelou.
  19. Danger Mouse: There’s a real danger indeed if the Rock Hall keeps focusing so intently on 1960s and 1970s output. To break the geriatric death grip of the Boomer generation, I want to put forward Danger Mouse as a worthy recipient for excellence in a number of different fields. If we are looking at great producers, Danger Mouse should be in the conversation with George Martin, Phil Spector, and others. The Observer writes of him, “Whether as a producer, songwriter or recording artist, Danger Mouse doesn’t have a signature sound so much as a signature feeling – intense, atmospheric, melancholy-laden.” He took the immersive feel of, say, Pink Floyd, and brought it into other elements of popular music. In the process, he produced records for Adele, Outkast, Norah Jones, and The Black Keys. The 1970s and 1980s divided “black music” and “white music” in ways we are still grappling with today, but Danger Mouse has found clever ways of bringing them back together as of old, perhaps nowhere more adroitly than the Beatles/Jay Z mashup “The Grey Album.” As a musician, a deejay, and a producer, Danger Mouse needs to be recognized as a modern-day great.
  20. Babyface: For the final spot, we have the man who, perhaps more than anyone else, helped create modern R&B. Like a contemporary Smokey Robinson, he does it all- sings smooth and soulful hits, writes, and produces. Lets see…he helped create New Jack Swing; helped Boyz II Men make some of the longest-tenured #1 hits ever, produced one of my favorite 90s groups, TLC; founded two record labels; thrived outside of R&B by producing for Eric Clapton and Madonna; was involved in 26 #1 R&B hits; and won 11 Grammy Awards. Other artists he’s produced for: Michael Jackson, Toni Braxton, Whitney Houston, Paula Abdul, and Ariana Grande. And that’s just the wikipedia version of his life.

So- those are my twenty Musical Excellence choices. I tried to pick people who excelled in multiple areas of rock, or didn’t fit easy categorization: performers who were songwriters, deejays who were producers, genre-benders, and so on. Stay tuned- we’ll tackle Early Influences and Non-Performers next.