You only needed to see the first two dozen rows in front of
the stage of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Awards Show to figure out what’s
wrong with the organization. Nodding in unison during the Faces set, you
witnessed the entire out of touch spectacle of white men in their fifties and
sixties, glad-handing each other like they were responsible for something
great.
There’s nothing revelatory about the 2012 nominees; you
could have ignored each one of this year’s contenders and replaced them with a
more deserving or more influential artist. With no disrespect to the artists
that were honored, there were dozens more still left behind and genres that
continue to go overlooked.
A lot of that sniveling with shine as I run down the
broadcast of the event with a total disregard for the truth and with a cynical
view of what all this means.
Yes, the event of MCA passing makes it hard to find anything
but praise for the Beastie Boys and their first year entrance into the hall.
Even if you were to bring up the annual “rap vs. rock” argument, it’s hard to
not see how the Beastie Boys belong in the rock hall just as much as they will
in the rap hall of fame. Ad Rock and Mike D did a great job of holding their
shit together and for acknowledging a few bands that probably belong in the
hall ahead of them.
How great would it be to see Bad Brains nominated?
Freddy King’s induction sounded almost like the same
after-thought that was his nomination. The entire celebration could have been a
huge orgy of Texas
performers who hold Freddy just a little bit closer than the rest of us, but it
wasn’t. A Texas
superstar jam would have got people talking, more importantly, it would have
gotten people ready to discover who this Freddie King cat was. Instead, it was
a performance more to the tune of “Who Is This Guy?” and “Why Should I Care?”
Laura Nyro? I still have questions about this one. And no
matter how much Bette Midler loves her, it doesn’t ease my concern even when
there’s no a dry eye in the house. Heck, Bette Midler didn’t need to be
anywhere near Cleveland
that night. One thing that was cool is having Nyro’s son on stage for his
mother even when the Hall previously tried to have him out of the picture on
the pretense of some family dispute that Jann Wenner or Tom Hanks should feel
the need to manage.
Donovan came on, read a hippie dippie poem, and reminded
everyone why this Dylan-wanna be shouldn’t gain entrance.
Who's the dude on the left? Adler's pants rule! |
The million dollar question was “Will he or won’t he?” which
is stupid if one only glances at Axl Rose’s track record over the last dozen
years. Of course he’s not going to show! Of course he’s going to release a
half-logical letter that tries to paint him as “the normal one” throughout all
this. But then you see that train-wreck of a drummer Steven Adler, sporting a few
promotional That Metal Show t-shirt
as his wardrobe, presumably because they’re the only show/network that would
let Adler on without Dr. Drew being in the same room.
The look of joy on this man’s face was priceless, and then
it was promptly ruined by the face of Matt Sorum who managed to get in because
no one had the good sense to admit it was Appetite
that gets them to Cleveland ,
and nothing else.
Where the fuck was Izzy was the big question. Without a
direct link to Indiana
present, the rest of the guys looked out of place. The performance with some
karaoke dude taking Axl’s spot, sounded just as safe as if they were G’n’ R
impersonators, Mr. Brownstone.
And how did Green Day get the nod as presenters? I really
disliked Billy Joe Armstrong’s smug delivery and, was it just me, or did he
just out Axl as crazy? Was that a little fuck you to the frontman? Is he
aligning himself with the Hall movers and shakers? The whole thing didn’t seem
very punk to me, and was about half as ballsy as Armstrong seemed to think.
Which brings us to who I guess was considered the
“headliners” in this year’s class: the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
I used to like these guys but I jumped ship when BloodSugarSexMagic got played to piss
and I wasn’t much into One Hot Minute.
Now, I just find them to be mildly annoying radio fodder that may have peaked
over a decade ago. I say this like I know what I’m talking about, but who
knows, if someone played me their material since that shit with Dave Navarro, I
just may like it in the right setting.
The stage used to be the right setting for the Chili
Peppers, but I couldn’t get how strange Anthony Keidis looks now in that
haircut and mustache. And it looks like he positively hated singing “Give It
Away” for the thousandth time. So yeah, I’m kinda thinkin’ that leaving them in
the mid-90’s was a good thing.
I suppose you could make the argument that the reason why
the performance(s) were nearly on the same, lame award show level as everything
else was because the money shot-Axl Rose on stage with the original G ‘n R
members-was a no go.
Or you could say that maybe Billy Joe was wrong when he
called Axl crazy, maybe W.A.R. had it right all along when he said fuck-all to
the entire notion of a rock and roll hall of fame. Of course we all know his
excuse was bullshit-the dude is certifiable when faced with the reality of how
his entire career will be defined by one album-but a big “Amen, brother!” to
him for throwing out some legitimate questions as to what the fuck this Rock and
Roll Hall of Fame is really all about.
The only time a real G ‘n R reunion will ever come about is
when Axl is faced with a foreclosure of his lifestyle. And when people continue
to pay $75 bucks a pop to see “Guns ‘N Roses” when the facsimile should only be
able to make State Fair gigs, we can rule out any possibility of a true G ‘n R
reunion.
At this point, that’s about as likely as the Rock Hall
committee actually sitting down to take a hard look to see if their actions are
actually contributing to the genre’s legacy or working against it.
Because there was nothing reminiscent of what I perceive
rock and roll to be from what I saw during 2012’s ceremonies. It’s almost
disappointing to watch some of my generation’s most notable artists succumb to
something that contains none of the rock and roll spirit the Hall portends to
exude. It has become as lifeless as the exhibits on display in Cleveland and it is
destroying any reason for a younger generation to even want to gander at rock’s
illustrious history.
1 comment:
What is up with Anthony Keidis and the moustache? Unless you are Burt Reynolds, Sam Elliott, or Snidley Wiplash it's hard to pull off the moustache look without looking like a creepy child molester.
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