Looking Back: The 2025 Rock Hall Nominees

Here at E-Rockracy, I've covered Rock Hall candidates, overdue and otherwise, for about a decade. Looking back on all the predictions and recommendation lists on this site, it's eye-opening to see which acts have been able to break into that pyramid on Lake Erie, and which ones are still waiting or in the nominee holding pen.

An equinox just happened, and it's a time of renewal, so what better time to clear the shelf and do a bit of spring cleaning. Just for fun, and in the spirit of looking back, here's a handful of artists that have shown up in this space over the years that currently find themselves on the cusp of Rock Hall immortalization. 

If nothing else, it speaks to the idea that yes, the wheels of justice turn slow, but the wheels of the Rock Hall often turn even slower. Better late than never? That's up to the fans to decide.

From Forever Snubbed? 15 Artists Never Nominated For the Rock Hall, 1/16/17: 

Bad Company 

19 years eligible, with FM radio staples such as "Shooting Star" and "Can't Get Enough," this British supergroup led by gifted vocalist Paul Rodgers is a favorite of Rock Hall Nomination Committee member Steven Van Zandt. There's various indications that Van Zandt hasn't had much luck getting his pet project acts in lately, so that trend may reverse this year with Bad Company (and another pick below). Further, Bad Company, a classic rock institution, jives perfectly with the raise-your-lighters/"Are you ready to rock?" classes of late. 

From 20 Suggestions for the Next Rock Hall Ballot, 1/15/21:

Mariah Carey 

As the insistent sound of "All I Want For Christmas Is You" fades from our psyche post-holidays, a thought still lingers: Mariah Carey is an all-timer with a worldwide impact that may rival that of Santa Claus. With her five-octave range and an endless stream of hits, this superstar owned the '90s pop/R&B music scene, and has helped define popular music in the decades since like no other. She's had a competition-humbling 19 Number One singles on the Billboard Hot 100 (more than any solo artist) and has sold over 200 million records globally. Charts and sales are one thing, but other aspects of this singer's narrative — her longevity and resilience — might be even more important. Those qualities are well-chronicled in her recent biography "The Meaning of Mariah Carey," which recounts her early success and marriage to Columbia Records' Tommy Mottola, the Glitter era, her 2005 comeback The Emancipation of Mimi, and beyond. Still relevant and ubiquitous up to the present day, it's clear that Carey is a survivor, not to mention a triumphant example of what a pop icon can and should be. Her influence on singers that followed, from Christina to Britney to Ariana, is plain to hear. This record-breaker will make it to Cleveland; the only question is when. 

From Thinking Outside the Pyramid: 10 New Acts for the Rock Hall Conversation, 3/31/17:

Billy Idol 

That lip snarl. That spiky hair. All those hits. Still, Billy Idol, who cut his teeth with U.K. punk band Generation X, then reinvented himself in America in the '80s with a string of classic, fist-pumping singles and videos, isn't even a blip on the Rock Hall radar. Does his career warrant a nomination? It feels more like a yes than a no, with his memorable look, catalog of Top 40 singles, and his inescapable presence to this day on the radio. Artists who broke through with the help of MTV have indeed had induction and nomination success, from Madonna to Joan Jett to Janet Jackson. Why not this Idol? The often stuffy, self-important institution could sure use a shot of unabashed fun, and Billy's just the guy to bring it. Crank up "White Wedding," "Rebel Yell," or "Eyes Without a Face," and see if you still want him removed from contention. Billy's the definition of rock and roll.

From Forever Snubbed? 15 Artists Never Nominated For the Rock Hall, 1/16/17: 

Joy Division 

Dark wave post-punk legends that set a navel-gazing template for so many artists that came after them, from the Smiths (nominated twice) to Nine Inch Nails (nominated twice) to Radiohead (a strong bet for 2018) and many others. They disintegrated upon singer Ian Curtis' death in 1980, then morphed into electronic-pop masters New Order. Many will tear this suggestion apart, but let's go radical here: A joint Joy Division/New Order induction (a  la the Small Faces/Faces maneuver in 2012) could spike the chances of either of these bands getting in anytime soon.

From Predictions: The 2020 Rock Hall Nominees, 8/29/19

Oasis 

Dear god, here we go. Major reunions of fractured, grudge-holding rock acts are a bit scarce at induction ceremonies (KISS refused to play with Ace and Peter, Axl didn't show up in 2012, etc.), so if the Hall can put Gallagher brothers Liam and Noel together, it deserves some type of peace prize. If it did happen, though, it would be monumental (one wonders if Liam and Noel are just waiting for this honor to kick off Oasis 2.0). The band was always a more significant concern in the U.K., but did make waves in the States with "Champagne Supernova" and the ubiquitous "Wonderwall," currently being howled at a karaoke bar near you. Further, "Don't Look Back in Anger" has become an anthem of resilience in Manchester, and for deeply tragic reasons: The song was performed by Noel at a benefit concert for the 22 victims of the terror attack at Ariana Grande's show in the city in 2017. To hear a stadium full of young people singing a song that existed before they did speaks to the triumph of both the human spirit and, yes, rock and roll. This would be a first-ballot induction, and not even Radiohead achieved that, but it's easy to imagine Oasis on the nominee list, at least. Do they get in? Another story, morning glory.

From 20 Suggestions for the Next Rock Hall Ballot, 1/15/21:

Phish 

It's a steep challenge to adequately summarize Phish, but here goes: Improvisational rock legends from Vermont that forever changed music festival culture. The quartet has been at it intermittently since 1988, evolving across 1,700+ shows, curated festivals, and multi-night Halloween and New Year's runs. Their roving fan base is massive, loyal/critical, and currently trapped in a concert-less purgatory. So maybe this is the perfect time to pause and reflect on how exceptional their favorite band is. Humble, collegiate beginnings led to persuasive, high-energy shows at clubs, theaters, and arenas across America, a deal with Elektra, and "the cover of the Rolling Stone." There have been hiatuses, a breakup, and a cautionary drug tale that ended positively. But in the end, Phish's story is told in the live setting. Trey Anastasio, Jon Fishman, Mike Gordon and Page McConnell's achievements onstage defy quantification, but the 2017 "Baker's Dozen" residency at Madison Square Garden stands out. They did 13 shows, never repeated a song, and churned out some of the finest renditions of songs like "Lawn Boy," "It's Ice" and "A Song I Heard the Ocean Sing." Make no mistake: These guys will win you over. Naysayers that once scoffed at Phish or "never got it" get dragged to a show, and their viewpoint changes 180 degrees (an instant evaporation of the poisonous "groupthink" that late fan/comedian Harris Wittels once bemoaned). The jolt one feels when Anastasio rips into the heavy riff of "Carini" can convert even the most skeptical. In the painful absence of live gigs, one can only imagine the deafening rapture that will greet Phish when they finally take the stage again in front of an audience (2022?). Suffice to say, this quartet has earned its (presumably inevitable) induction into the Rock Hall. 

Bonus Artists

Warren Zevon is technically not in the mix this year (he was nominated for Class of 2023, but shockingly passed over), but it's not a wild impossibility that he could be honored, presumably through the Musical Excellence category. Zevon fans are crossing their fingers, while the air conditioner goes "mmm..." It's enough to drink up all the salty margaritas in Los Angeles...

And, sigh, yeah. The beloved New York Dolls, too. Farewell last remaining Doll David Johansen, the leader of a priceless band of boa-wearing, showboating degenerates that gave every music journalist that ever lived impetus to use the word "shambolic." (Guilty, your honor!)

From Predictions: The 2019 Rock Hall Nominees, 8/30/18:

Warren Zevon 

"Lawyers, Guns and Money"...but enough about American politics! Warren Zevon, Los Angeles' late purveyor of acerbic, libertine songcraft, is the ideal fit for 2019's singer-songwriter slot (think 2013 inductee Randy Newman). Paul Shaffer, who jammed with Zevon many times on the Letterman show, is a crucial Zevon evangelist and Nomination Committee member. By honoring Warren, the Hall could have a substantial induction ceremony performance on their hands: Imagine what prior Zevon collaborator Bruce Springsteen or even spiritual descendant Father John Misty could do with "Johnny Strikes Up the Band" or "Accidentally Like a Martyr" (the latter performed by Bob Dylan live after he learned Zevon was dying of cancer). If Bob sees fit to cover your song, you probably warrant entry into the Hall.

From One and Done? Artists That Should Return to the Rock Hall Ballot, 1/19/17:

New York Dolls 

Nominated for Class of 2001*  (*note: They were also later nominated for classes of 2021 and 2022)

It's interesting that Aerosmith was also on this ballot, and got in, as Steven Tyler would be the first to tell you how influential the New York Dolls were on his band. Deeply impactful on everyone from the Smiths to Guns N' Roses, the shambolic glam godfathers—David Johansen, Johnny Thunders, Syl Sylvain, Arthur Kane, and Jerry Nolan—certainly deserve another shot at the Rock Hall.

She is the Warrior: The Holly Knight Interview

How's this for a playlist?

“Love is a Battlefield” by Pat Benatar.

“The Warrior” by Scandal featuring Patty Smyth. 

“Obsession” by Animotion. 

"Change" by John Waite.

“Never” by Heart. 

“Rag Doll” by Aerosmith. 

“The Best” by Tina Turner.

You’ve heard those songs, you’ve watched the MTV videos. Now, Rock & Roll Hall of Fame visitors will have the opportunity to meet the virtuoso behind the music: Singer-songwriter and musician Holly Knight. 

On Friday, March 14 from 7-9 p.m., Knight will grace the Rock Hall museum’s Foster Theater for an event titled “The Woman Behind the Anthems.” The evening will feature an interview by Rock Hall Director of Education & Community Kathryn Clusman, a performance, and a book signing of Knight’s bestselling memoir “I Am the Warrior: My Crazy Life Writing the Hits and Rocking the MTV Eighties.”

Knight, who was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2013, has had an extraordinary life indeed. She learned classical piano as a child, and later attended the Mannes School of Music in New York City. A survivor in an industry that seems engineered to dismantle a woman’s power, she has personified the word “empowerment,” finding stratospheric success in spite of the odds. Apart from her elite songwriting credentials, she’s won 3 Grammys, 13 ASCAP Awards, and was a key member of two fascinating '80s bands: Spider (their songs “Change” and “Better Be Good to Me” went on to be hits for Waite and Turner, respectively) and Device (best known for the percolating, shimmering Top 40 single “Hanging on a Heart Attack”).

Holly Knight

And as if her rock and roll resume wasn’t impressive enough, Knight was even an uncredited keyboardist on KISS’ Unmasked album (and later went on to co-write the band’s song “Hide Your Heart”). While she’s regularly name-checked for her high-profile Turner and Benatar hits, her list of songwriting credits also includes tracks from Chaka Khan, Bon Jovi, Cheap Trick, Hall & Oates, Meat Loaf, Divinyls, Suzi Quatro, and many others. Knight’s inspiring work has also been featured countless times on TV (“Schitt’s Creek," "GLOW," "Stranger Things"), in commercials, and in movies (Turner’s “One of the the Living” from Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, Rod Stewart’s “Love Touch” from Legal Eagles... and who could forget the "Love is a Battlefield" singalong in 13 Going on 30?). 

When a career like this is called “generation-defining,” it suggests that Knight, already in the Songwriters Hall, is also Rock & Roll Hall of Fame-worthy. Hopefully, she will someday take her rightful place alongside of other (and too scarce) Rock Hall-inducted female songwriters such as Carole King, Ellie Greenwich and Cynthia Weil. Until then, Knight will be saying "Hello, Cleveland!" at the Rock Hall museum this month. 

In a recent email exchange with E-Rockracy, Knight went in-depth about her upcoming appearance and her legendary career.  

You have an exciting event coming up on March 14 at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, where you'll be doing an interview, a  book signing and a performance. First of all, have you ever been to the Rock Hall museum?
No,  never!
 
Secondly, what aspects of your special day at the Rock Hall are you most looking  forward to? 
I'm looking forward to all of it!

To quote the title of the event, you are "The Woman Behind the Anthems." Let's dig  into that a little: For the average person, songwriting is a concept that is a bit mysterious. Certainly, inspiration and hard work are two key ingredients, but could you describe your  personal songwriting process and how it has evolved over the years?
Depending on whom I’m writing for, I choose an instrument which best can capture the essence of the band or solo artist. For instance, if it’s going to be for a rock band, I like to pick up a guitar and write on that. I don’t play guitar all that well (by design), so the music ends up being simpler, which is a good thing for rock and roll. The simpler the chords, the wider the berth for the melody, and the wider the birth, the more attitude in the lyrics. On keyboards (which is my main instrument), I tend to write more complicated chord progressions, and that means the vocals have to follow the chords more closely, but again, depending on the artist or project, that can be the right path to take. And then there’s my mood on any given day. If I don’t have a particular band I’m thinking about and I just feel like writing, anything goes.

As far as the evolution of my songwriting process, I try not to write a bad song anymore… in other words, if I feel I’m onto something good, I keep going. And if I'm playing around with it too long and it’s going nowhere, I just walk away and live to write another day.
 
What challenges would you say songwriters face in 2025 that maybe differ from some of the challenges you faced as you built your career?
Social media for one, is a double-edged sword. The problem is it still costs tons of money to get your music out there — even if it’s DIY. And now there’s so many more people on the planet competing to get their songs recorded by other artists. So, if, for instance, you’re on TikTok and you know how to play the game, you might get more attention than the artist or songwriter who doesn’t have the millions of hits or fans — and it’s not necessarily based on talent or great music. Back in the day, they always listed the writers, so when you bought a record, you knew who wrote what (if you were interested). Now credits are hard to find.
 
And now with streaming, the loss of revenue to the songwriters is staggering. I could go on and on...

Mentoring is such an important part of an artist's development. What opportunities have you had to be a mentor, and who would you say mentored you as you came up in your career?
Mentors are the best! My first one was my classical piano teacher, whom I adored. I was four and she was like the mother I wish I'd had. Then in my early twenties, I met Mike Chapman, who was a huge songwriter/producer himself, and really took me under his wing — we wrote some of the best songs together. Personally, I love mentoring young writers. I have taught my own master classes from time to time and I really enjoy the process.

What final recorded and released versions of your songs would you say most closely matched the original sound you had in your head when writing them?
I would have to start with "The Best." If you were to hear the demo that my co-writer Mike Chapman and I did, you’ll hear that all the parts are there on the demo — in fact, I’ve had Tina record nine of my songs , and she always stuck to whatever we did on the demos. I loved that about her. Also, "The Warrior" (Patty Smyth) and "Invincible" (Pat Benatar) were exact replicas of the demos, and that was because Mike Chapman produced them.
 
Along those same lines, are there particular MTV music videos of your songs that you feel represented those songs especially well?
Well, I always like to see the bands playing themselves in their videos as opposed to them being "actors" in a movie, which was often “the thing” on MTV. That’s why I liked, say, Heart performing "Never." Obviously it wasn’t a live video, but you still got this sense of who the band was, as opposed to a video like "Love Is A Battlefield" with Pat Benatar. I loved the video of "Invincible" with Benatar.
 
I would’ve loved to have seen "The Warrior," with Patty Smyth as herself performing with her band. I never really got the kabuki and kimono with a lightning bolt across her face, and neither did she. They were often at the mercy of the director or makeup artist. Ha ha.
 
Speaking of music videos, your appearance at the Rock Hall has some great timing — the museum currently has an exhibit titled "1984," celebrating the era-defining songs and MTV videos that revolutionized the pop music landscape. Artists such as Prince, Madonna, Tina Turner, Eurythmics, and Duran Duran are featured artists. As someone who was there, and participated directly in this era, how do you remember 1984 and the overall "big boom" of MTV? 
Man, that time period was such a blast, honestly. My first cover was with John Waite — he recorded “Change” in 1982 (it initially came out on Spider’s second record), then Benatar recorded "Love Is a Battlefield" in 1983. By the time 1984 came around, "Better Be Good To Me” on Tina Turner’s Private Dancer record came out. It was the second single on an album that became the biggest record on the planet that year. In fact, the record won the Grammy for Record of the Year. So yes, 1984 was an amazing year, not only for me personally, but for the world musically. It was a Renaissance period.
 
I used to go see Prince perform at a little club in the Village called The Bottom Line, I dragged my manager at the time, Bill Aucoin, to come with me one night because I knew Prince was going to be huge. The first time I saw Madonna’s video “Burning Up,” I made Mike Chapman watch it and I said, "She’s going to be huge."

Device's 1986 album 22B3

You were a part of the rock group Spider, and formed the band Device. What are some of your prevailing memories of your time in those acts? 

Ever since I was a little kid, I always wanted to be a rock star, playing live to a huge audience before I ever thought about being a songwriter, so I loved it. I was a musician first — I’d been playing piano since I was four. But... I hated the politics and BS that comes with being in a band, and ultimately I was happier with the autonomy of being a songwriter. I had the freedom to flit like a happy bee, savoring honey from one flower to another. 

How do you receive new music these days, and would you name a few modern artists that have caught your ear?
I listen to various stations on Sirius radio and Spotify when I’m driving around or cooking in the kitchen. And although none of these artists are really "new," I love Lady Gaga, Halsey, Charli XCX, Måneskin, Cage The Elephant, Tame Impala, and Harry Styles.

When one looks at the high number of songwriters sometimes credited on major pop songs, it's difficult to understand how that works. Without naming names, I'm seeing one hit song had 30 songwriters, where another had 9 songwriters credited to it. What do you make of that trend, and do you find there's a "perfect number" when it comes to the number of people writing a song together?

Well, I’ll just say this — I know the artist you’re talking about, and I think that a lot people tried to defend the fact that there were 30 writers on it, saying it’s an art form when different writers are sampled and therefore have to be credited as writers. To me that’s not what I identify with as songwriting. I said in my book that if you can't write a song on your own or with one or two other writers, you shouldn’t be calling yourself a songwriter. I mean, WTF?
 
Regarding your book "I Am the Warrior: My Crazy Life Writing the Hits and Rocking the MTV Eighties," it might be fair to say it's the gift that keeps on giving. What are some of the most frequent comments you hear from fans that attend your book signings?
I‘ve been told by readers that they feel like they’re in the room with me when reading my book. Better yet, here are some reader comments from Amazon:

"This was one of my favorite books of the year! Holly has a wonderful writing style (obviously!) that really draws you in, and you feel like you're chatting with her at a bar. It was such an enjoyable read. All of the little stories and details are endlessly fascinating, from all of the Tina Turner stories, getting a sheepish apology from Eddie Van Halen and all the nitty gritty of the music industry."
 
"I knew Holly Knight was a hit-making machine before I read her book, but I was amazed at all the incredible stories of her life among all the artists I revere so much. Her tales behind the making of music will have you turning the pages so quickly that you'll wish a Volume 2 was waiting nearby."
 
"You will be blown over by Holly's incredible trip to the top of the songwriting business and the iconic musicians she befriended along the way. Easily the best memoir I've read about my beloved decade."
 
"As a musician and avid music-bio lover (I’ve read literally hundreds of them) I can safely say this is one of the best rock and roll books I’ve ever read. Period. Not only for the story of Holly’s talent and success but because of her ability to overcome obstacles and her tenaciousness: especially in a business that’s predominantly a ‘man’s world’. Her honest and forthright manner also make me want to know her. Highly recommended."
 
"This is an incredibly well written, honest and fascinating look at the creation of the of the biggest and most memorable songs of the last four decades and more importantly the woman behind them. Frank, often funny, and incredibly insightful."
 
"One of the best, honest musician bios I ever read! I was a HUGE fan before this book. Now I'm even a a bigger one! Holly Knight is an absolute legend and an unmatched talent on every level! Simply the best....no pun intended."
 
"Holly approached her book very much like her hits—all killer and no filler! Easy read, lots of cool background info and great insight into the mind and life of a songwriting sorceress."
 
On level 3 of the Rock Hall museum, they have the Signature Gallery where visitors can see all of the Rock Hall inductees' plaques. So many of the artists you've written songs for — Tina Turner, Heart, Pat Benatar, Aerosmith, KISS, and Bon Jovi — are on the wall there, so you'll definitely have to go see that. On that note, what were some of your thoughts when Tina was finally inducted as a solo artist in 2021?

Well, I get a certain thrill knowing that I had something to do with every one of those inductees you mentioned, and that I contributed something to the music world. And as far as Tina — it was about fucking time!
 
I will say though, that Tina was not really a songwriter (with the exception of "Nutbush City Limits") and not once during her induction did they mention any of the songwriters that help put her there. I mean, Tina was a supernova — but as usual, fans think that the artists always write their own songs. I wrote nine songs for her, she was my muse. 
 
Anyway, I can't wait to go see the Rock Hall museum. I’ve never been to any of the ceremonies either, but maybe this next one I’ll be able to attend. I'm really honored that they invited me to participate in this upcoming Women’s History Month. Especially as there’s an imbalance in gender of inductees. It’s the same with the Songwriters Hall of Fame. The year I was inducted, there had only been, up to that point, 16 women inductees out of 400 men. And it’s not even the fact of the organization being biased — there just weren’t a lot of women out there being "allowed" to flourish or play in the sandbox with the boys.
 
As a friend and collaborator of Tina, what would she make of all this, and what do you think she'd say to you about your upcoming appearance at the Rock Hall?
Well, it’s all there in the foreword of my book, which she wrote. She’d definitely be smiling.

Holly Knight will be appearing at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame's Foster Theater on Friday, March 14 from 7-9 p.m. Details here.

Photo credits: Holly Knight photo by Matthew Beard; Device photo by Brian Aris; book photo by Ken Nahoum, courtesy of Permuted Press

REVIEW: The 2023 Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony

Rock Hall induction ceremony 38 is now in the books. What worked? What didn't? What should the Hall improve upon for future dispensations of "Music's Highest Honor?" It's time to unpack all that transpired during last night's gala at Barclays Center.

WHAT WORKED

• Every ceremony comes loaded with the possibility of that lighting-in-a-bottle "wow" moment, and the unannounced appearance of Jimmy Page performing "Rumble" for Link Wray was exactly that. The increasingly reclusive Led Zeppelin guitarist apparently couldn't resist paying tribute to his hero Link. And sly move, Rock Hall, having Page in the video package for Wray, with no expectation, necessarily, that there would be any performance (for category honorees, there is no certainty of "full induction treatment"), only to have him appear in the flesh. One truly wonders if it's the last public appearance Page, 79, will bother making (hopefully not). Further, one hopes the Hall has learned their lesson: Relegating guitar legend Wray and "Rumble" into the now-defunct "Singles"category back in 2018 was grossly insufficient given his impact. Honoring him in this way under "Musical Influence" was a classy, corrective masterstroke.
• Quite simply? The production value of the staging. The hyper-real video screens they are using now as backdrops (deployed with a regal, gold color chromatics during L.A.'s 2022 induction) looked impressive on the Disney+ livestream. Dynamic colors and shapes, gleaming blue pyramids that evoked the museum in Cleveland, a colorful, hovering UFO as Missy Elliott's show-stopping musical performance began... well, no expense was spared on these huge visuals. Live music events are now competing against the MSG Sphere in Vegas, so the Hall leveled up. (Maybe a Sphere ceremony is in the Hall's future? Vegas, baby!)
• The video packages were informative and engaging as always. These mini-documentaries on each honoree are an art form unto themselves, and provide a window into inductees' lives and career trajectories. The packages also capture artists like Kate Bush and Rage Against the Machine in their searching, brazen youth, their souls aflame and ready to knock the earth off its axis. Bush admitting her perfectionism, and shown treating her music and visuals as high/confrontational art — while decked out in full regalia in her music videos — suggested her influence on an artist like Björk. Elsewhere, seeing grainy video of Rage Against the Machine playing their first gig at Cal State Northridge in October 1991 suggests they arrived fully formed; lying ahead of them after Northridge, hundreds of stances to take, endless Molotov cocktails to light, and to paraphrase their song "Wake Up," scores of fascists to bomb a left on like they were Cassius.
• Speaking of "full regalia," Sia bears mentioning. Technicolor-attired, with a huge pink-bow atop her boxy, rainbow wig-adorned head, the singer was top-heavy and seemingly wheeled out as if she was a parade float. Sia donned all this garish armor to sing "I'm Every Woman" with Chaka Khan, and this get-up may just go down in history as one of the most playful and exotic visuals at any Rock Hall ceremony, ever.
• Among various emotional moments on this evening, Queen Latifah and Elliott's deep love and respect for each other, evidenced by their interactions onstage during Elliott's induction, was touching. Missy doing the "I'm not worthy" bow to her friend and hero, while Latifah discarded prepared teleprompter dialogue to give Missy a needed "catch your breath" moment was a real moment of support and friendship. Latifah, a major influence to Missy and countless others, should also join the inductee ranks. 
• Musical Influence honoree DJ Kool Herc's rise from his seat and trip to the stage to accept his honor, while breaking down in tears, underlined that, when the Rock Hall does the right thing (hint, hint) and immortalizes undeniable pioneers, long overdue, it means something. Amid the Rock Hall's slow-changing, often perplexing realm, a place where it's easily justifiable to be cynical and lament inequality, representation imbalances, and the seeming implausibility of real progressive change, there remains the potential of justice coming to pass. The Herc induction is one of those times, and was the first deeply emotional moment of the night; he wept through his speech, calling out people that are no longer here, such as James Brown and 2022 influence inductee Harry Belafonte. Cindy Campbell, Herc's sister who threw the famous rec room party where Herc started the hip-hop movement with two turntables, stood by his side and also said a few words. That a Rock Hall induction can mean so much to someone is why it's worth fighting for, why it's worth calling out when the Hall falls short. This pioneer's tears should inspire every Rock Hall executive to energetically fix what's wrong, and achieve the "stretch goals" of overall institutional excellence. 
• Miguel's sterling take on "Careless Whisper," for late Performer inductee George Michael (inducted by his Wham! partner Andrew Ridgeley), reminded viewers of the magic that is summoned when a guest performer is well-matched with the material (Jake Clemons on sax was a welcome surprise here, too). Carrie Underwood's reading of the rising-and-falling "One More Try" demonstrated that she also understood the assignment. Same goes for St. Vincent's mesmerizing take on Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill," pop phenomenon Olivia Rodrigo trading verses with Sheryl Crow on "If It Makes You Happy," and New Edition's joyful, serotonin-rush performance of Spinners classics. The Spinners segment, complete with a "Soul Train" logo dropping down and dancers recreating the visuals and energy of that TV show (the program's impresario, Don Cornelius, was also honored on this night) was exhilarating, and did right by the overdue, four times-nominated R&B vocal group. (One genuinely wonders if most people watching realized New jack swing legend Bobby Brown was onstage, performing with New Edition). 
• The triumph of the elders was a leitmotif last night, and it was downright heartwarming. "It's a dream come true," said surviving Spinners member Henry Fambrough (85) via video, accepting the award. Erstwhile Spinner member John Edwards (78), who sang with the group from 1977-2000, also appeared by video to accept. It's funny how time slips away: Willie Nelson, 90 years young, was seated throughout his time in the limelight at Barclays center, but hey, he made it. And speaking of the Red Headed Stranger...
• You have to tip your cowboy hat to American treasure Willie. His induction segment started with Dave Matthews' heartfelt acoustic performance of "Funny How Time Slips Away," followed by Matthews' speech. Nelson career milestones were noted, such as Patsy Cline recording "Crazy" and how the country icon has recorded 72 albums. Also included in Dave's prepared words were mentions of the Outlaws and the Highwaymen, two groups Nelson was in with Waylon Jennings, as well as Nelson's Farm Aid concerts. (And is is this first rock hall speech that's ever quoted comedian Bill Hicks?) Matthews' breathless, rambling speech that was nonetheless endearing (and may just get Dave Matthews Band on the ballot for a second nomination). Nelson's video package showed him with Johnny Cash, and detailed his overall journey and the "Nashville Sound" that he wanted to move past. In a key move, Nelson moved back to Texas, grew longer hair and became the artist he wanted to be (one might also call this the George Carlin trajectory). Musicians in video include Chris Stapleton (he mentioned how normal people, hippies and cowboys all gathered around the Willie campfire), the Black Crowes' Chris Robinson, the late Ray Charles, and Norah Jones (she had high compliments for "Blue Eyes Cryin' in the Rain"). In his acceptance speech, Nelson talked about working with with Ray Charles, Leon Russell, and Booker T. Jones, and plugged Jennings and Kris Kristofferson for Rock Hall induction. His relatively brief words led into his performance of "Whiskey River" (backed by a snappy band including Stapleton and Don Was), "Crazy" with Sheryl Crow, and the inevitable "On the Road Again" with Matthews, Crow, and Stapleton. This "On the Road Again" performance might be about as "countrified" as the Rock Hall induction stage has ever been. Cowboy hats, beards, Willie's headband... some CMA Awards-type stuff. 
• Non-inductee (!) Peter Frampton joining Sheryl Crow on guitar for "Every Day is a Winding Road" was a welcome sight. Double inductee Stevie Nicks also sang on the number, remaining onstage after dueting with Crow on "Strong Enough." Oscar winner Laura Dern did the induction speech for Crow, making this the second consecutive ceremony where a Hollywood actor spoke for the first inductee of the evening (Robert Downey, Jr. took this slot in 2022, ushering in Duran Duran). 
• Chaka Khan's induction portion was uniquely memorable, even beyond the Sia wardrobe. Her inductor was R&B talent Jazmine Sullivan, who said that Khan was celebrating her 50th year in the business (inadvertently emphasizing how long it took the singer to be honored by the Hall). Khan's video package featured no less than Michelle Obama, Joni Mitchell, H.E.R., and Grace Jones, and noted the Black Panther rallies Khan attended as a young person. It also showed Khan performing with Whitney Houston, Miles Davis, Prince and Rufus (the latter group frequently nominated with Chaka in her earlier, failed nominations). "She's just leaving it all on that stage in every performance," H.E.R. beamed in the video. Speaking of performance, Khan offered a medley including a terrific duet with Common (covering the Melle Mel rap portion) on her breakdance-worthy Prince cover "I Feel For You." Elsewhere, H.E.R. played guitar on "Ain't Nobody" and stayed onstage for Rufus' "Sweet Thing." Finally, the Sia rainbow appeared for "I'm Every Woman." During her speech, Khan noted that without Rufus, she would not be where she is today, and brought out Rufus guitarist Tony Maiden. Khan's induction was a long time coming, delayed justice after seven nominations. 
• While Ahmet Ertegun award honoree Don Cornelius' segment was among the briefest of the night, the question of why "Soul Train" was important was answered in no uncertain terms. In Cornelius' video package, Questlove called the show "a religion," going on to say that it was a depiction of black joy. Also appearing in the video were Lionel Richie, Chaka Khan, and Aresenio Hall. "This was our classroom," noted Richie.
• Al Kooper's acceptance, via video, of the Musical Excellence honor was particularly gratifying. He's a retiree and 79 years old, and it seemed he was really savoring this recognition. In an unusual move, Kooper narrated his own video package, which chronicled his astonishing collaborations, including Bob Dylan (Kooper played the organ intro to "Like a Rolling Stone"); Jimi Hendrix (he appeared on Electric Ladyland); guitarist Mike Bloomfield; Blood, Sweat and Tears; and Lynyrd Skynyrd (he discovered and produced them). "It's been quite a long run for me," Kooper said, adding that it all began in 1958. (The great studio pianist Nicky Hopkins would be a fine choice in this slot next year.)
• Public Enemy's enthusiastic Flava Flav was thankfully on camera several times, resuming the bouncy cheerleader role he originally took up amid the expensive tables at the 2013 ceremony.
• Morello's impassioned acceptance speech as the lone member of Rage in the house was a keeper. "The world is not going to change itself... the world is changed by ordinary people that have had enough," he declared. Inductor Ice-T, who did his speech with no teleprompter, shared a great story: "We gotta go on after them?!" he recalled about an early gig where Rage opened up for Body Count (he said Zack de la Rocha started that show by leaping 5 feet into the air). He later added, "If you wanna go down in history, you gotta either make something or break something." 
• Missy Elliott's sensory-overloading extravaganza at the end of the night was outstanding, and it came complete with a UFO landing, a hologram and a high-energy, backing dancer-loaded medley of "Get Ur Freak On," "The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)," "Work It," "Pass That Dutch" and "Lose Control." How great is it that Jimmy Page was watching all this?
• Finally, "Go Bernie Taupin" (and not just for suggesting Merle Haggard for induction). Someone had to say it, since the Hall (unlike Rolling Stone magazine, which made a statement and has published follow-up articles) despite rapidly ejecting Hall co-founder Jann Wenner from its board, has not followed up with even a simple, closure-giving statement of how they will go forward following recent controversy (sparked when Hall co-founder Wenner told a New York Times interviewer that he didn't feel that women and black artists were articulate enough to be included in his new book The Masters). Taupin, accepting his Musical Excellence honor, chimed in when no one else did: “I guess you could say my being inducted is a paradox, perhaps, but either way, I’m honored to be in the class of 2023 alongside a group of such profoundly articulate women and outstanding articulate Black artists along with all of the other music masters here tonight.” Indeed, for the Rock Hall, "Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word." 

WHAT DIDN'T WORK / SUGGESTIONS FOR IMPROVEMENT

• This was a four and-a-half hour show (last year's was 5.5 hours), and it ran relatively seamlessly (Elton John loitered at the mic a little too long prior to his Taupin speech, waiting for a cue), but speeches by Matthews and Morello came off rushed. There must be visible countdown clocks, as is often the case with these awards shows, but some participants clearly interpret those as stressors, and it shows. No one wants long speeches, but there is a fine line and maybe some finesse due in the area of letting the podium pilots breathe a little.  
• Teleprompter issues evidently threw Kate Bush induction speaker Big Boi off a bit. Stumbling over mixed-up words on the prompter he stammered, then jabbed, "Who the fuck?... Did you go to class?!" Other podium issues included microphones that were too low. Some technical issues are par for the course, but if this thing will now be streamed live, it's time to tighten it up.
• Speaking of the Disney+ streaming user experience, some folks on social media reported frustrations finding/seeing the Rock Hall livestream due to the app's parental controls being on. Mickey Mouse and Ice-T, an unholy combination, to be certain. 
• No way to fix this, but the Hall's gamble that Rage would reunite and blow the roof off of Barclays Center did not pay off. It's too bad, but where Morello sees Rage's induction as a mass communication possibility, perhaps his singer perceives it as compromising with corporate entities. If one looks at the optics of a Disney+ and ABC-broadcast show, and then considers de la Rocha's lyrics in Rage's song "Bullet in the Head" it makes a bit more sense: "They load the clip in omnicolor / Said they pack the nine, they fire it at prime time / The sleeping gas, every home was like Alcatraz / And motherfuckers lost their minds...  Just victims of the in-house drive-by / They say, "Jump", you say, "How high?"
• Ice-T is an artist that has flipped off the establishment in myriad, dramatic ways, which makes him a terrific choice to induct Rage. But it would have been even better if Body Count had tackled a Rage song, in lieu of an actual Rage performance. As hard as it would be to rap Zack's vocal parts, maybe the Hall still could have enlisted Body Count, or another substitute performer in this case. (That said, Ice-T's walk out music, Body Count's "There Goes the Neighborhood," was tremendous. There are specific songs one never expects to hear at a ceremony, and that would be one, with 2022's "Rico Suave" being another.)
• Ending an induction ceremony with an acceptance speech, as happened last night with Elliott, is a weird way to bring these dazzling annual events in for a landing. It's like they pack the ceremony with constant fireworks, only to have no "grand finale." It's possible something was cut at the last minute. An all-star jam around the 50th anniversary of hip-hop is possibly something that was in the works.
• That brings up an issue around how the showrunners structure the artist induction segments; music performances, induction speeches and acceptance speeches were shuffled around in a chaotic, variable order. This not only resulted in the Elliott speech being the end of the night (and this, after her off-the-charts performance that felt like the "thrilling conclusion"), but Crow performing one song, which led to speeches, which led to more performances, etc. At past ceremonies, there was an induction speech, an acceptance speech, and then the performance, which may not make for the most enthralling television sequence, but it prevents the awkward scene of an out-of-breath inductee who just sang, danced and/or played guitar having to run over to a podium to accept their trophy. A tricky problem, admittedly, but one that should be worked through. 
• Resource allocation is tricky with so many stars involved, and yet, it seemed a bit like blatant overexposure to have Crow appear for a third time for The Band's "The Weight," performed after the In Memoriam segment in tribute to Robbie Robertson. Especially when that number included the amazing vocal power station Brittany Howard, who might have taken an extra verse instead. Sometimes less is more, even at a jam-packed extravaganza such as this. Crow did great, and it's no dig at her talents, but this thing is packed with potential participants and other individuals might have been better slated in for that (Rodrigo, even? Get that cross-generational vibe happening). 
• Robertson will be sorely missed. He was a titanic musical talent, a member of The Band, a Scorsese film score maestro, and notably, a longtime member of the Hall's Nomination Committee. The music tribute to him was appropriate enough, but it's tough not to think of other options related to the dearly departed that, all due respect, might have happened instead. ("The Weight" is practically a cliche at this point; your drunk uncle is probably singing it at a coffeehouse open mic as we speak.) There is precedent for doing a musical tribute to late musicians that are not inductees (Exhibit A: Jerry Cantrell and Ann Wilson did "Black Hole Sun" for Chris Cornell at the ceremony in 2018), so, just putting this out there: What about Howard singing "Nothing Compares to You" for Sinead? Perhaps Matthews sings a Jimmy Buffett tune ("Come Monday")? Or, if there is to be fidelity to inductees, what about Frampton peeling off some stately Jeff Beck licks? So many possibilities.
• Overall, this ceremony paled a bit in comparison to the 2022 edition. It's tough to say why, but with Bush and Rage members conspicuous in their absence, it makes 2022 moments like Judas Priest's appearance and Eurythmics' commanding reunion feel even more special. Dolly Parton and Rob Halford, opposing electrons drawn to center stage together singing "Jolene" ...well, there's no parallel moment like that in the 2023 show (for sheer jaw-drop quotient, Page's high-voltage "Rumble" comes closest). Like wine, these ceremonies are akin to vintages; some taste better than others, and others age more gracefully. It will be interesting to see how history treats the 2023 ceremony, but this was an intriguing mosaic of inductees, and the induction of the first female rapper in Elliott means a glass ceiling was finally shattered. 
• Finally, a note around matters of institutional identity. The Rock Hall has now branded induction into its ranks as "Music's Highest Honor" This is very close to the Grammys' tagline, "Music's Biggest Night." It seems minor, but it also could be construed as a step toward competing with the Recording Academy to a degree. The Rock Hall ceremony up to this point was an elusive, prerecorded music awards show, edited for later broadcast on HBO/MAX that, in 2023, jumped over to a Disney+ livestream, with a trimmed, three-hour version to air on major (Disney-owned) network ABC January 1, 2024. There were specific moments in last night's ceremony that felt spiritually similar to a Grammys show, such as the George Michael performance (no dig on it, it was mostly excellent), with its tandem of Miguel, Adam Levine, and Carrie Underwood. When you have Elton John, Chris Stapleton and Sheryl Crow onstage singing together, that feels Grammys-esque, too. It's not that it's "bad," it's more of a subtle, abstract thing. There's a certain smoothness and a drift to the middle. The Hall should study what the Grammys are doing, and locate incremental ways to distinguish its own tentpole event a bit more. As these inductions get bigger, more expensive, and put in front of more eyeballs, it should not be lulled into becoming "safer" and Disney/ABC-ready. It should have a touch of danger and a lot of attitude... that's rock and roll, after all. 

No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn: Ahead of its Ceremony 11/3, the Rock Hall Has Serious Work to Do

In light of the Jann Wenner controversy this past week, it must be said: As Rolling Stone magazine has done already, the Rock Hall — as an institution, and the second-most conspicuous monument to Wenner's ambition and "vision" — needs to issue a statement to clarify its current position, distance itself, and re-establish some semblance of trust with its employees, donors, members, and ceremony ticket buyers. It's time for the Hall to meet the moment, especially with the looming inductions at Brooklyn's Barclays Center this November.  

To quote George Costanza, it may be time for the Rock Hall to reject its first impulses, and "do the opposite." Apologies and humility, as with Hall co-founder Wenner, seem as scarce as the women and people of color in its inductee ranks. The arrogance displayed by Wenner when his ignorance was exposed by writer David Marchese in last week's New York Times interview was stunning. Arrogance is a trait that's palpable, too, in the Hall's public relations approach, which seems to toggle between diversion and denial. The "ignore it and it will go away" gambit works sometimes, but neither the Hall, nor Wenner can wish this one away. It's the equivalent of a cash deposit bag exploding a dye pack on a fleeing bank robber. 

On September 16, amid a reported atmosphere of "urgency and rage," a vote was held by the Rock Hall foundation, and a statement was released saying that Wenner had been ejected from its board. (Also that day, the New York Times reported that president and CEO of the foundation, Joel Peresman, contacted by phone, "declined to comment further.") In an e-mail from foundation member Troy Carter to Wenner that leaked, words were not minced: 

"It's mind-blowing to hear you imply that women and Black artists lack the intellectual articulation to be philosophers of rock, considering the significant contributions they have made, not only in terms of creative output but also in articulating the cultural, political and social aspects of their work. Artists like Nina Simone and Billie Holiday used their music to tackle pressing issues of civil rights and social injustice. They spoke eloquently about the purpose behind their music. Robert Johnson, Little Richard and Chuck Berry laid much of the groundwork for what rock and roll would become, both musically and conceptually... 

... You have every right to your opinion, whether or not I agree. But as a member of one of the most important music institutions in the world, your opinion is hurtful to all of the women and Black artists who hold the RRHF in high regard. While you have a storied history in the music industry, that story also includes a long history of racial bias and bigotry... 

... Nina and Joni would run circles around you on their worst day. It’s always difficult when a board removes a founder, but in this case, it’s easy. Kick rocks, buddy."

One gets the sense that Wenner was probably relieved that catapults are no longer in popular usage. 

Carter's e-mail represents a close-up perspective, but if one zooms out and takes a holistic view of the Hall, an unavoidable question emerges: Why does it seem that it's only when there's a four-alarm fire — when the Hall's hand is absolutely forced by bad optics and/or external pressure — that it is spurred into action? Yes, the Hall is a complicated, committee-laden bureaucracy. Yes, this thing's ideological concrete was set on a slant. Yes, the rotten tomatoes lobbed at the Hall on social media in one week could sustain Heinz production for a year. But is this a fire department, or a globally-recognized cultural institution? 

The concept of being proactive, instead of constantly reactive, would seem to be a common-sense strategy for any public entity of this scale, particularly one that involves the preservation of culture and aspires to pantheon-building. Preventative maintenance and crisis management are two areas the Hall ought to explore with fresh vigor, especially after this past week. Specific phrases from Ice Cube's 2016 induction speech ("Rock & roll is not an instrument, rock & roll is not even a style of music. Rock & roll is a spirit.") are repeatedly parroted by Hall officials, but something else Cube once said should also be taken to heart by the institution: "Check yo' self before you wreck yo' self."

The Rock Hall foundation's leadership presides over a world where women comprise only 8.63% of inducted members; where an insulted Alanis Morrissette unexpectedly leaves a ceremony rehearsal, blaming sexism and incivility; where hip-hop legends such as Eric B. & Rakim and A Tribe Called Quest languish with nominations but no inductions; where a host of funk, soul, R&B, and disco acts are still on the outside (the Meters, Patti LaBelle, Luther Vandross, Kool & the Gang, Pointer Sisters, 11-time nominees Chic); where punk, prog, hard rock, and metal lodestars struggle for recognition (no Bad Brains, no Jethro Tull, no Thin Lizzy, no Iron Maiden); where scenery-chewing weirdos sit on the bench (Screamin' Jay Hawkins, Grace Jones, the Cramps); where superstars of reggae and Afrobeat are missing (Peter Tosh, Fela Kuti); where Los Lobos gets a single nomination (2016), and never returns to the ballot; where iconic bassist Carol Kaye (88 years old) has never been honored; where god-tier pioneer Sister Rosetta Tharpe isn't honored until 2018; where Cleveland-born Tracy Chapman has zero nominations; where Chaka Khan has to endure 7 fruitless nominations across 11 years (with and without Rufus) before finally being honored in 2023. To put it lightly, this is a world in need of radical change. As Chapman once sang, "Talking about a revolution."

The Rock Hall, now estranged from Wenner, yet associated with him forever, is in rough waters. At a time when they'd rather be touting their upcoming, $135 million museum expansion, as well as the the Brooklyn inductions six weeks from now, they're forced to navigate a spiraling public relations crisis. Past controversies have dogged the Hall, of course (everyone should know the name Dorothy Carvello), but the Wenner expulsion arrives on the heels of yet another embarrassing situation: Just last year, they had to suspend Craig Inciardi, a long-tenured museum curator and director of acquisitions, after he was criminally charged, with others, for trying to sell handwritten notes and lyrics Don Henley claims were stolen from him. The trial is reportedly slated for this fall. 

Rock Hall drama and malfeasance is nothing new — for years now, the noble, fact-based work of essential watchdogs such as the website Future Rock Legends and author/educator Evelyn McDonnell have provided a checks-and-balances system and conscience that the Rock Hall, with its unsavory associations and perplexing actions, often seems to lack. Along the same lines, Hole singer Courtney Love entered the conversation earlier this year with a series of impassioned Twitter posts, as well as a guest piece in The Guardian, perceptively calling out the same sins of exclusion at the Rock Hall that Wenner just inadvertently exposed in himself. 

The 2023 induction ceremony is coming up fast, and the entire vibe and success of this annual gala truly depend on which key actions the Hall takes next. If Hall leadership wants to win back hearts and minds, it should trade stonewalling for pragmatism. It should release a public statement of contrition and renewed purpose to communicate its priorities and propel itself beyond the Wenner narrative. Further, several rounds of hat-in-hand diplomacy with 2023's inductees will be required to convince them to a) still believe in this thing, and b) show up. Mission-critical artist negotiations occur in advance of every ceremony, but Wenner has certainly made that task a lot tougher this time around.

Indisputably, Wenner co-founded this institution and has had an outsized influence on shaping what it is today. Suggesting that new leadership in recent years, as encouraging as it is, somehow erases Jann's fingerprints from the Hall is short-sighted and not in line with the facts. It's hard work to change, but change, the Rock Hall must. Another part of Carter's e-mail says it all: 

"We can't change what was said, but we can learn from it and take steps to ensure that the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame is an institution that truly honors the breadth and depth of contributions to music." 

It's time to take those steps. Ultimately, "Rock's Highest Honor" (the Hall rebranded it as "Music's Highest Honor" this month) cannot be administered from the low gutter of ignorance and exclusion.

The Super-Sized 2022 Rock Hall Ceremony

We're not at the Waldorf-Astoria anymore.

In light of the dazzling, genre-diverse spectacular that went down at the Microsoft Theater two weeks ago, it's worth reflecting back on the original location of the Rock Hall ceremony, held in New York City starting in 1986. 

Ah yes, the glitzy, champagne-drenched Waldorf-Astoria, home to a whopping 23 private inductions over the years. The event did escape from New York at times—it landed at L.A.'s Century Plaza in 1993 (still private), and in 1997, the Renaissance Cleveland Hotel had the distinction of hosting the first public ceremony. After a second public induction in Cleveland in 2009, the Waldorf-Astoria hosted two more closed-door ceremonies. Finally, in 2012, the walls came tumbling down, making this largely closed-off event open to everyday music fans. 

Ten years later, so much has happened. There's been Rock Hall Foundation leadership and committee turnover (most notably, John Sykes in for Jann Wenner), the pandemic (which herded the 2020 inductees into a pre-packaged, documentary-style HBO program), and an erratic three-city rotation. This year, inductions returned to La La Land (or, in Alex Lifeson parlance, "blah-blah land") for the first time in nine years. 

This was a big one. Super-sized. It will put the "Max" in HBO Max this weekend. In a first, there were even bleachers onstage packed with fans. This was Sykes' first Los Angeles ceremony, and the iHeartMedia President and co-founder of MTV (along with the foundation and production team) wasn't leaving anything to chance. "Delivering the goods" appears to be the key methodology of 2020s-era Rock Hall ceremonies. Cleveland next year? Or Brooklyn? No matter where this event lands on the map, it would appear that state-of-the-art production and God-tier rock star power will be on tap. Last year, McCartney. This year, Springsteen. 

The 37th annual Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony is getting a 4-hour window for broadcast on HBO. At the Microsoft Theater, it spanned five and-a-half hours (7:15 p.m. to about 12:45 a.m.). Having been in the room for ceremonies that ran about that long, but felt longer due to speeches and near-comical staging delays (looking at you, 2015), it must be said that apart from Duran Duran's brief sound collapse early on, the show mostly cruised along, with just a few plodding segments along the way. The final edit will likely jettison some of that excess baggage. 

The baggage isn't limited to the show itself. The Rock Hall ceremony is an exhilarating bubble to be in, but it remains peculiar due to various tensions. Maybe it's the mixing of industry and commoners, and maybe it's the feeling that the Hall, with its obvious inductee backlog and well-documented failures of committee-think, has a lot to make right; the fans showing up are carrying both expectation and indignation. 

If the show runners understand this, and they hopefully do, they'll work harder to find a balance between crowd-pleasing musical nirvana (knockout performances, once-in-a-lifetime moments) and the manner in which they recognize amazing individuals such as Harry Belafonte, Sylvia Robinson and Elizabeth Cotten. Those three inductees received only video packages, with no one onstage to even briefly announce their induction. In the late Robinson's case, her son Leland and granddaughter were there, so to not have them quickly accept the award on their mother's behalf was a mistake. Time truly must be made in these instances. Yes, it's a long show, time is of the essence, but some judiciousness was needed here.

And that's the problem with "big." Small, nuanced things get trampled upon. It's a vexing problem with shows of this scale, and with the Hall specifically. Much is done well, and much seemingly gets ignored. But flawed as it may be, the institution appears to be steering this colossal ship in the right direction. Vocal, intelligent observers have raised their voices for more women, more metal, more inductees, etc., and it would be inaccurate to say the Hall isn't listening. That said, Cleveland truly needs its first female hip-hop honoree, and hopefully 2023 brings that and much more.

But back to the ceremony. iHeartMedia boss Sykes is a different captain than Wenner, and there is an ambitious, new-look Rock Hall era upon us. With its 14 honorees and top-shelf list of special guests, the highly-produced 2022 edition could be split in half, and two ceremonies could be made from it. Goodness gracious, there were even two all-star jams, for all intents and purposes. (It seems the days of 5-7 inductees are a thing of the past.)

Speaking of Sykes, the inductions these last two years seem to parallel, in subtle ways, the genre-diverse, mainstream tilt of iHeartRadio Music Awards shows. In line with Sykes' references to "the sound of youth culture," there are several household names crossing over, and back, between that event and the Rock Hall ceremony (J.Lo! LL Cool J! Ed Sheeran! Olivia Rodrigo!). It's fitting, too, that SiriusXM looms so large in this annual affair (from backstage interviews to broadcasting audio of the ceremony), because its panoramic music station menu echoes the genre-inclusive approach that, at its best, the Hall manifests with its inductee slate and ceremonies each year. Where there is Dolly Parton, there is also Rob Halford. Where there is Eminem, there is also Steven Tyler. 

Started at the Waldorf-Astoria and now we're here.  

The Rock Hall Triumph of Judas Priest

"We don't accept defeat, we never will retreat..." - "Freewheel Burning"

Tough as leather, armed with a steely resolve, and road warriors to this day, Judas Priest finally enters the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame this Saturday, November 5. It's a triumph for these metal gods, and for the heavy metal faithful across the globe. 

It's also an exceptionally overdue honor, and one that unfortunately required special intervention by the Hall to even happen. Judas Priest, upon their third nomination this year, still didn't earn enough votes from the official Rock Hall votership to be counted among the Class of 2022's seven "Performer" honorees (Pat Benatar & Neil Giraldo, Duran Duran, Eminem, Eurythmics, Dolly Parton, Lionel Richie, and Carly Simon). As a result, they are being given the Award for Musical Excellence.  

Ian Hill, Glenn Tipton, Rob Halford, K.K. Downing, Les Binks

Ultimately, the Hall arrived at a solution. Some observers are OK with it, some are not. But the institution had to take action. How could they continue to snub Judas Priest, arguably the second-most significant metal band after Black Sabbath? If Hall voters continue to reject this genre (Iron Maiden was on the ballot last year, another swing and a miss!), measures need to be taken. Maybe it's not perfect, but as Winston Churchill once said, perfection is the enemy of progress.

In many ways, this "other" honor is quite appropriate, and one truly hopes the Priest camp fully embraces and understands it. These guys wear their outsider status on their studded sleeves, and have soldiered through their career on their own terms. They are the embodiment of heavy metal, which is not a path for the faint of heart — these guys had to have wanted it. Officially formed in 1969, with their debut LP Rocka Rolla released in 1974, the group has overcome daunting challenges: label woes; personnel changes; world tours; a 1990 court trial where they were accused of putting subliminal messages in their music; and Rob Halford's difficult decision, as a gay man, to stay in the closet during Priest's most successful years (he came out in 1998). More recently, guitarist Glenn Tipton was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease in 2018, leaving him unable to perform full shows, though he still performs encores with his mates, and will fortunately be present at this week's ceremony. Despite everything, Priest have delivered on their vision for over 50 years, making thunderous, exhilarating music for hardcore fans and mainstream rock audiences alike. 

Musical excellence? They've excelled indeed, from the sonorous vocals and haunting riffs of "Victim of Changes" to the revving, concussive "Hell Bent for Leather" to radio/MTV hits like "Breaking the Law" and "You've Got Another Thing Coming." On 1990's Painkiller album, they pushed the limits of speed and thrash metal to gloriously punishing effect. And these high points are just the tip of the iceberg — at 18 studio albums, the Priest discography is rewarding and vast, with 2018's Firepower earning rave reviews as a thrilling return to form. A new album is due in 2023.

Priest's induction feels rather special; there's a definite "triumph of the underdog" narrative here for both the band and its disciples. Suddenly, a worldwide community of marginalized metal believers, angry with the Hall for years about this snub, finally feel seen. For generations of lost souls and high school rebels, Priest has been a sanctuary. Their music is a rite of passage, sure, but it's also a lifelong companion. 

Judas Priest represents so much. They are the smoking kids on the corner outside your high school. They are every Eddie Munson with a Dio backpatch. They are the rowdy denizens of heavy metal parking lots where zebra-striped shirts get soaked with beer and sweat. They are the sound of a teenager's bedroom door slamming after a fight with a parent. They are a backwoods kegger, where bonfires rage and bad choices are made. They have been there, reliably, to offer their faithful catharsis, community, and the credo "One life, I'm gonna live it up." And that's why they belong in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, by any means necessary. 

Further Reading: Why Judas Priest Belongs in the Rock Hall