Rock Hall 2014: Got it right for once

Who cares if Paul Stanley's face looked like an ice cream cone that half-melted, then was frozen, then half-melted again. Who cares if Peter Criss looked like a cleaned-up Phil Spector. Who cares if Ace Frehley resembled a bloated Kenny Rogers. Who cares if Gene Simmons appeared to have come straight from his audition for a "Planet of the Apes" sequel.

Kiss was finally in, and the induction was shown in all its glory on HBO's recently released telecast of the ceremony. If Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Bill Haley, etc. invented Rock and Roll, Kiss pumped it with steroids and ensured it would go on to have a Barry Bonds-like career for the ages (well, something like that).

The best part of all came when Stanley said exactly what we've been saying for almost four years now: Let the people vote and take control out of the hands of lame-ass old shits like Jann Wenner and his crusty cronies.

The other best part was Tom Morello's amazeballs induction speech. Which was the exact opposite of Michael Stipe's.

More justice was served by the induction of Hall & Oates. Seriously, these guys dominated the radio for a decade with pop tunes that people will be singing until the world ends. Nope, no way that's Hall worthy. Gotta make sure we get Red Hot Chili Peppers in there first, because they made 50 RS covers. Gotta make sure Donovan gets in there because Wenner beats it to his tunes incessantly.

You could quibble a little with some of the things that went down with H&O's induction. Like Questlove's puzzling induction speech. And Oates' bizarre forehead-framing hairstyle. And the fact that freaking G.E. Smith was not included in the performance portion (at least not the ones televised on HBO).

Without G.E., it just ain't Hall & Oates.

But hey, they're in, so it's all good.

Oh yeah, and I almost forgot: A little band called Nirvana got in. They're overrated as one of the greatest bands of all time (they're not), they're underrated as hack ripoffs of the Pixies and Husker Du (they're not, well, they are a little bit), and they are properly rated as a Hall of Fame band. Most encouraging of all was the revelation that Dave Grohl does still possess a rock soul, as he played a part in one of the coolest Rock Hall performances of all time: Joan Jett, Kim Gordon, St. Vincent and Lorde fronting in place of Kurt Cobain. I mean, wow. You HAVE to watch all four performances.

Can't say that Peter Gabriel or Cat Stevens getting in really matters either way. Gabriel got in with Genesis, skipped the ceremony, so eff him, he blew his chance. He does not have a Hall of Fame career. Cat Stevens: Eh.

And so, on to 2015, where we push for the Pixies and The Replacements and try once again to stop Green Day. It won't be easy.

Rock Hall to poop all over Cleveland's sidewalks

The Cleveland Plain Dealer is reporting that the Rock Hall has plans for a Walk of Fame that boasts names of inductees on bronze plaques all over the sidewalks of downtown Cleveland.

The first 17 plaques will be unsheathed on April 4, 10 days before the next Sh*tFest of Rock History, otherwise known as the annual Rock Hall Induction Ceremony.

Most certainly these plaques will bear the names of as many worthy choices (Beatles, Dylan, the bitchin' Chuck Berry, etc) as they will complete farces who are already in the Hall (The Band, cornball Jackson Browne, Madonna, the billions of '60s bands who were rubber-stamped in).

In other words, we see each of these brownish plaques as $5,000 pieces of turd. Better bring a pooper-scooper next time you're in Cleveland.

Heroes of the Hall: Neil Young

There's a million reasons to pluck a rare gem like Neil Young from the overabundance of turd piled up within the walls of the Rock Hall.

He's a veritable Babe Ruth of rock, excelling in both acoustic heartbreakers and full-on rock-your-ass off blasters. He sang "my my, hey hey" and "hey hey, my my" to bookend an album and name-checked Johnny Rotten in the process. He made 90-minute classics like "Cortez The Killer" seem like they were only 15 minutes long. He left a big fat footprint in four straight decades (a Woodstocker in the '60s, a stadium rocker in the '70s, a take-it-to-the-man renegade in the '80s and hip-old-man in the '90s) and is considered the Godfather of Grunge, and whether that's true or completely manufactured because it makes a cool story is besides the point.

At this point, he could basically hock a loogie on tape for 30 minutes, put it out with a white cover and still get four stars from Rolling Stone. And that's OK, because he earned it.

Yet nothing demonstrates Mr. Young's Hall Hero Status like his 1983 album "Everybody's Rockin'," released under the name "Neil Young and the Shocking Pinks."

Geffen Records didn't like 1982's "Trans," which featured some synth and robot crap but isn't really as crazy as everyone makes it out to be, and they didn't like the follow-up Young submitted, the all-out country record "Old Ways." They demanded a "rock & roll album," so Young went back to the drawing board.

He came back with his own interpretation of what they wanted: A 10-song pile of junk featuring doo-wop and rockabilly originals and covers from the 1950s. Technically, Young didn't defy Geffen: They didn't specify which era of rock that he had to go back to.

"Highlights" include faithful covers of songs by Jimmy Reed ("Bright Lights, Big City") and Bobby Freeman ("Betty Lou's Got a New Pair of Shoes") and originals like "Cry Cry Cry" (where Young sounds like he's ready to bust up) and the Chuck Berry-esque "Payola Blues," which calls out Alan Freed, features the Pinks chiming in with harmonies of "cash-a-wadda-wadda" and boasts lines like "Listen to me, Mr. DJ, hear what I got to say/ If a man is makin' music they oughta let his records play."

But the crowning achievement, the creme de la creme if you will, is "Wonderin'," a typical Young track written way back in his early days that's given the eff-you treatment, complete with "doo wops" from the Shocking Pinks.

Taking it over the top is the video, which speaks for itself. Thank you, Neil Young, thank you. We'd induct you again if we could.

Hello, Cleveland!!

Bernie rocks!

Okay, so the title is not all that original, but I am not going to promise a religious experience here.

So my good friend says "Hey... I have this BLOG I'd like you to contribute to. Would you be interested?"

I reply with "Absolutely!", so he sends me the credentials, I check it out... and I promptly forget about it.

Actually, that's not fair. I didn't "forget" as in "what the hell are you talking about", I forgot as in "I am so swamped with non-fun ACTUAL work that I won't be able to rectify having fun writing something that might be a lightning rod for a lot of viewers." Now, the day before Thanksgiving, I find myself with a little time, so I thought, what better time to write an inaugural entry for Cleveland Does Not Rock?

That being said, here's what I have to say: There are some great members enshrined in The Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame, but there are a lot of "I wouldn't have let you in even if you had a ticket" members that just boggle my mind.

Let's look at it this way... this place in Cleveland, Ohio is called The Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame, right? So what are the key phrases there? Rock 'n' Roll and Hall of Fame. Since the second phrase is the easier of the two to explain, let's tackle that first.

To me, a "hall of fame" is a special place where luminaries in a specific (remember that word, kids... it comes up later) field are put on pedestals for the world to respect. It's a grouping of individuals who are commonly considered to be "the best" in that specific field... not just people who did it, but people who did it better than anyone else.

"Rock 'n' Roll" is a bit more complex, but we're going to skip over most of the history of this genre and just give it a quick definition to get on with the rest of the entry (I tend to run on at the mouth... or fingers... sometimes): "Rock 'n' Roll" is a genre of music that features at least one rhythm guitar, usually at least one bass (sometimes upright, mostly guitar), and at least one drummer.

Sure, there are examples with other percussion instruments (piano, tambourine), stringed instruments (violins, violas, or fiddles), harmonicas, and, in some cases, interesting choices such as bagpipes (seriously... check out AC/DC's "It's a Long Way to the Top (If you Wanna Rock 'n' Roll)"). The genre is defined with specific beats and rhythms, so musically, there is a big difference between "hard rock" and "heavy metal" or "folk rock" and "adult contemporary" or "KISS" and "Disco KISS."

Does Disco KISS still count as KISS?

I bring these terms up because when I look at the list of those housed in Cleveland, I wonder who was thinking what when James Brown was inducted. Don't get me wrong, I love me some James Brown, but allow me this trivia question for you: What is James Brown's pseudo-religious nickname? If you answered "The Godfather of SOUL", then you are correct. I see a distinct difference between soul music and rock 'n' roll.

Chuck Berry? Absolutely, positively rock 'n' roll. Elvis? 100% rock 'n' roll. B.B. King? Muddy Waters? John Lee Hooker? No way! They were legendary BLUES musicians! I can't think of a better way to spend a rainy Sunday than sitting down with a beer in my hand, B.B. wailing in the background... but that ain't rock 'n' roll, folks!

Michael Jackson was inducted in 2001. The King of POP.
Parliament-FUNKadelic was inducted in 1997.
Bob Marley was inducted in 1994. Seriously? Reggae Jesus?
Miles F*cking Davis in 2006... can you get any more brilliant and JAZZY than Miles?
Grandmaster Flash and The Furious Five in 2007.
Run-D.M.C. in 2009.
Christ... ABBA?! ABBA?!? in 2010!

Look... I have nothing against ABBA... truth-be-told, I actually like their music, but they are as much rock 'n' roll as I am a rock. They were the flag-bearers of disco, but they would never be associated with rock 'n' roll, would they?

A little bit of the ol' Ludwig van?

I am not opposed to another (or several other) hall of fame(s) opening that encompasses "popular music", but rock 'n' roll is specific! Just like we won't ever see Black Sabbath enshrined in The Rap Hall of Fame, why are Eric B. and Rakim going to Cleveland in 2012? Why not a posthumous induction for Ludwig van Beethoven because his 5th symphony was covered by many a talented rock guitarist?

So tell me... what argument is made for inducting James Taylor or Simon and Garfunkel?

I guess, as I listen to The Foo Fighters' "Stacked Actors" while typing this, I just don't get what the criteria is.

Whatever it is, someone needs to tighten it up... or at least rename the hall of fame to something a little less specific.

Kickin' Em Out: 1990

You're right, Bobby. It's not me. It's you.

Try as your smiling eyes might, nothing can convince me that you belong in the Hall.

Let's start with the two most important criteria:
Is Bobby Darin rock? No.
Is Bobby Darin roll? No.

The beginning of his career was spent in the Brill Building, banging out safe, teen-approved songs. Going solo produced more of the same: poppy, tuneful ditties that were, quite literally, scrubbed of the grit that his contemporaries — such as renowned creepster and true rock pioneer Chuck Berry, hipster-template and belt-it-out god Buddy Holly, and boozers The Champs of "Tequila" fame — left on. Click for Exhibit A.

Darin followed "Splish Splash" with the truly great blockbuster song "Dream Lover," which gave millions of girlfans hope that perhaps the idol spent his nights at home hugging his pillow and staring wistfully out the window, too. It also inspired, by my unofficial count, one custard-marshmallow cream-chocolate sauce-and-pecan sundae at a Midwestern scoop shop.

And then, inevitably, given his silky voice and charming good looks, Darin devolved into a lounge act, recording standards such as "Mack the Knife" and shuffleboard-and-nightly buffet aficionado favorite "Beyond the Sea."

Clearly, Darin was swingin' with the best of 'em in the early '60s. But, crucially, he WAS NOT ROCKING. Perhaps the most rock and roll thing Darin ever did was mentor The Byrds' founder Roger McGuinn. And do lines off of lido girls with Sammy Davis, Jr. (unverified, but completely possible). Seriously, Paul freakin' Anka inducted him into the Hall. That alone is enough to rest my case.

Hank Ballard
Bobby Darin (Chesty McGee)
The Four Seasons
Four Tops
The Kinks
The Platters
Simon and Garfunkel

Kickin' Em Out: 1988

Sadly, The Drifters have to go.

The only criticism that can be made of the Class of 1988 is How The Hell Did It Take Two Years to Induct The Beatles and Bob Dylan. I get the early influence thing. I get the chronological thinking that says you have to put Chuck Berry, Elvis Presley and Little Richard in before you put in the guys who had their minds blown by them.

But the Hall is about the best. And there really aren't too many people on the planet who would argue that Dylan and The Beatles are the two greatest, revolutionary and, frankly, most important figures in rock history. How could they not be inductees Nos. 1 and 2, or at the very least in the first class?

Back to the 1988 crop. This one is really, really hard. Big props to the judges for finally getting it right and paring down the number of artists who got in.

But in our effort to clean up the Hall and make it more prestigious, we committed to kicking one artist out per year. My first target is The Supremes, because I suspect one Michael Jackson had some sway over the judges and nudged them to shove the group (which includes his obsession, Diana Ross) in as soon as possible. However, I can't do it. Instead, I'm going for The Drifters, who were a fine Motown group but no better than, say, Journey or Duran Duran in terms of hits in their respective genres. With "Save The Last Dance For Me," "There Goes My Baby" and "This Magic Moment," but I'm thinking the residual effect of the smasher flick "Stand By Me" in 1986 had more to do with this pick than anything. Plus who is even in this group? They had 30 lead singers, and so far 564 members by my count to date.

Maybe they get in someday, but for now The Drifters are out.

The Beach Boys
The Beatles
The Drifters
Bob Dylan
Berry Gordy Jr.
Woody Guthrie
Lead Belly
Les Paul
The Supremes

Kickin' Em Out: 1987

Sorry, Eddie. Sorry, Paul McCartney.

It kind of made sense that the Rock Hall's debut year would have a ton of inductees (16), since it was the first class and they'd want to get a ton of no-brainers in like Elvis Presley and Chuck Berry. So things would settle down in the second year, right? The judges would get more selective, committing to picking only the best of the rest to make the Hall a hallowed place.
Nope. In fact, the class of 1987 more than doubled the first year's group of enshrined. The judges even tried to get a two-for-one with the ace songwriting duo of Leiber and Stoller.

Therefore, we have to start chopping real performers along with some of the non-performers. And no longer is it a one-chop-per year rule. The highlight of this year's class is Eddie "Summertime Blues" Cochran. Yeah, he influenced a "look," but so did Geraldo. Yeah, he influenced Paul McCartney, John Lennon and the early Beatles, but so did pills and that weird German couple. Yeah, he was a guitar hero, but so is Joe Satriani. Yeah, he got The Who to make "Summertime Blues" a staple of their live set, but he got The Who to make "Summertime Blues" a staple of their live set.

23 inductees in the second year? No wonder the hit-obsessed judges are already scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Leonard Chess
The Coasters
Eddie Cochran
Bo Diddley
Ahmet Ertegun
Aretha Franklin
Marvin Gaye
Bill Haley
Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller
Louis Jordan
B.B. King
Clyde McPhatter
Ricky Nelson
Roy Orbison
Carl Perkins
Smokey Robinson
Big Joe Turner
T. Bone Walker
Muddy Waters
Jerry Wexler
Hank Williams
Jackie Wilson

Kickin' Em Out: 1986

Like most every other Hall of Fame, too many people are in the Rock Hall, and, like the basketball and football halls, people are in for no reason.

The more people you let in a hall, the less prestigious it is.

So we're kicking some people out. One per year, plus all the ridiculous throw-ins like DJs and sidemen.

In the first year of the Rock Hall, 1986, judges inducted a whopping 16 people. Out are Alan Freed (DJ), John Hammond (scout), and Jimmie Rodgers and Jimmy Yansey (early influences in the first year? Na). We'll leave Sam Phillips in, for obvious reasons.

That still leaves 12, which is way too many. Looking at this list, there's 11 who are mortal locks, and one who is fringe-y at best. That'd be the Everly Brothers. A handful of timeless classics and cool vocal harmonies don't get you in the Hall. At least not the first year, or even the first decade.

Chuck Berry
Alan Freed
James Brown
Elvis Presley
Jerry Lee Lewis
Jimmie Rodgers
The Everly Brothers
Fats Domino
Ray Charles
Sam Cooke
Little Richard
Jimmy Yansey 
Buddy Holly
Robert Johnson
Sam Phillips
John Hammond