Kickin' em out: 1995

This was a tough one. Who do you kick out of a class that includes Led Zep, Joplin, Neil Young, Zappa, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas, the Allman Brothers Band and Al Green?

This is an impenetrable block on VH1 Classic's "Rockfest." It's one-quarter of a juke box at the Charcoal Pit.

But when you get past the names, and think about the actual music, the decision becomes easy.

I don’t get the Allman Brothers Band. Never have, never will. They possess exactly zero songs that I would leave on if they came on the radio. 

Many have called them the most influential band of the early 1970s. I can’t agree more: This means the Allman Brothers are responsible for loads and loads of steaming sonic bullshit, 8-minute wankfests boasting solos that wander aimlessly, big mustaches, bigger beards, countless babies conceived in the back of huge gas-guzzlers mere seconds after their parents-to-be polished off another doobie and the rise of 7-11. I can’t explain the last one but it’s a fact.

East Stroudsburg's finest.

Look, I’m not a fan, so I don’t know all the albums. But if you’re a nut for the Allman Brothers, and you’re raging mad because of what I’m about to do, then you should be able to list their classic tunes one after the other and impress me into thinking I shouldn’t do what I’m about to do.

But…

     -- "Melissa” holds a special place in my heart because it was a mainstay on the juke at Rudy’s, the finest bar in the Poconos, but outside of those incredibly friendly confines, that song is more mediocre than the Montreal Expos' Tim Wallach.

-         -- I swear to the rock gods, I never knew that knife-to-the-skull-annoying song that plays over all of the hippie crap and terrible retro 70s TV movies was called “Jessica.” I didn’t even know it had words, I thought it was just a 12-minute instrumental featuring that riff and piano run over and over and over again.

-- “Midnight Rider” is not a tough, gritty rock gem.

-- “Whipping Post” is not a bluesy tour-de-force.
-- “Ramblin’ Man” is not a timeless classic.

Allman Brothers with no Allmans? Major violation.

What makes these songs so amazing? What separates these guys from the cornball cover band at the corner bar? Why are there 15 people in the band at different times? Why does the current lineup, and the one that's been around for the last decade or so, have neither Allman Brother and is instead run by Dickey Betts? 

If you want to argue that the Allmans have a lot of decent songs, I’ll just agree with you to end the argument. If you want to say they’re the equivalent of a one-time NBA all-star, but not an upper-echelon great, superstar or perennial all-star, then fine.

Look, I'm sorry Duane Allman died in a motorcycle accident. I respect their longevity, I guess. But they are not worthy of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Certainly not with the 1995 class. 

21 members. 44 years. 18 albums. Hey Allman Bros. - Cleveland Does Not Rock bucket go BOOM.

 

Kickin' Em Out: 1994

WARNING: This is going to piss a lot of people off.

OK, here goes: The Band should not be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Hear me out. Robbie Robertson, Rick Danko, Levon Helm, Garth Hudson and Richard Manuel are all great players, and form a really good backing band. In other words, The Band is not a good band band, but The Band is an amazing band to have backing a solo artist. Got it?

It's why they made their bones and their name as the band behind rockabilly player Lonnie Hawkins. It's why they had such success backing up Bob Dylan (pause for a moment: I'm sure their 1974 tour together was insanely incredible, but if you're going to try and tell me that "The Basement Tapes" are these great lost treasures, you're lying. They're horrid.)

It's why "The Last Waltz" is arguably the best concert film ever, and almost certainly the best show that ever went down, in terms of performance and music produced. I mean, Van Morrison's jacked-out-of-his-mind performance of "Caravan"? Holy shit. And they set up one hell of a haulin'-ass train behind Muddy Waters' massive locomotive on "Mannish Boy." And they manage to wring more cheese out of Neil Diamond when he does "Dry Your Eyes" than the kids in "Saving Silverman."

Look out everyone! He's got a hanger!

And they completely neutralize Neil Young's coke booger when he does his insane rendition of "Helpless" with Joni Mitchell, who wasn't stoned enough yet to get up next to him and said nose refuse.

And then there's the closing all-star jam of "I Shall Be Released," when Ron Wood and Ringo F*cking Starr pop out of the audience to join in. Mr. Starkey jumps in on second drums (maybe the only time ever that the two-drum attack has been not only acceptable but actually works really well) and even rocks out one of those signature Beatles drum fills (as noted by Robertson on the behind-the-scenes shit they show on VH1). Sure, some of the credit can go to cocaine, but then again grass and psychedelics could take most if not all of the credit for Woodstock and Monterey Pop.

If this seems like a ton of glowing praise for a "Kickin' Em Out" segment, it is. But it also proves the point - The Band is a fine band on its own, but it's not a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame band on its own.

Robertson, Helm, Danko, Manuel and Hudson are like Scottie Pippen, Dennis Rodman, Horace Grant, Bill Cartwright, Steve Kerr and other role players on the dominant Chicago Bulls teams of the 1990s - they take the proverbial Michael Jordan, whether it be Dylan, or Young, or whoever, and help elevate them to all those NBA titles. Without them, Jordan is just dicking around, winning scoring titles and dunk contests and scoring 63 points against the Celtics in a first round playoff game before going home early.

Man, that was one ugly shot.

And that's the frustrating thing. Like my soon-to-be-laid-out theory on how Billy Joel could have been Buddy Holly, The Band could have been Hall of Famers - just like Pippen and Rodman. All those other dudes are essentially Hall of Famers without the plaque - everyone knows Kerr iced the Jazz in 1997, and that HoGrant was a monster on the boards, and that Cartwright had that sweet foul shot.

Look, I'll give you "The Weight," one of my top 30 songs of all time, and "Up on Cripple Creek." And maybe I'll even give you that "Music from Big Pink" and the self-titled follow-up are great albums, event though I don't agree with that statement at all.

But take a load off, Fannie - I'm still kickin' em out.

By the way, this is one of the most amazing Rock Hall classes of all time. Marley and Lennon in the same class? Elton John and Rod Stewart in the same class? And (even though I personally think their music sounds like the garbles of bird squawking in its own vomit) the Grateful Dead? Wow.

One more thing: While I'm at it, I'm kicking the Animals out too. I don't even need to explain why. God, I hate that band.

Oh yeah, you're out too, assholes.

The Animals
The Grateful Dead
Willie Dixon
Duane Eddie
Elton John
The Band
John Lennon
Bob Marley
Johnny Otis
Rod Stewart

p.s. - I'm sorry

p.p.s. - No, I'm not

p.p.p.s. - Ok, maybe I am, but just a little bit

Kickin' Em Out: 1993

Good songs, talented group, but sorry, no Hall.

New Edition should be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Why?

Simple: In 1993, the Hall inducted Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers. As a performer. Not even as an "early influence" or through any other kind of b.s. induction category the lame-o voters use to sneak in their favorites.

The Hall says that their smash single "Why Do Fools Fall in Love?" defined the doo-wop sound. (No mention of the lawsuit, not long after their induction, that essentially said other members of the Teenagers, and not Lymon, wrote the tune).


To their credit, they made the R&B Top 10 six times, albeit with songs that I bet you can't hum right now: including "Out in the Cold Again," "I Want You to Be My Girl," "Who Can Explain?" and "The ABC’s of Love." They're all really solid tunes, but are they Hall-worthy?

Perhaps Hall voters were swayed by the tragic story of Lymon's death - he died in 1968, at age 25, of a heroin overdose.


They should not need any swaying to put New Edition in. The group placed within the Top 51 of the Billboard Top 100 eleven times, including four in the Top 10. Don't even mention the R&B charts - they freaking destroyed them for more than a decades with tracks like "Candy Girl," "Mr. Telephone Man," "Can You Stand The Rain" and "Cool It Now." (WARNING: THE BELOW VIDEO IS BEYOND SICK):

Oh, and let's not forget the Spawns of New Edition, which are almost better than the group itself.

Post-Bobby, with-Johnny era.

Bobby Brown solo, Johnny Gill solo (his self-titled 1990 album, featuring "Fairweather Friend," is an R&B/ New Jack classic), Ralph Tresvant solo (ditto his 1990 self-titled solo album, which boasted the big single "Sensitivity") and, of, course, Bell Biv DeVoe, authors of "Poison," "Do Me," etc.

When the Hall finally recognizes modern R&B as a legitimate genre of music, New Edition should be among the first to get in.

Shit. I'm wasting my time on something that should (and hopefully will) get its own post down the road.

For now, let's focus on the task at hand: Sorry Frankie - you and your Teenagers have got to go.

Ruth Brown
Dick Clark
Cream
The Doors
Creedence Clearwater Revival
Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers
Milt Gabler
Etta James
Van Morrison
Sly and the Family Stone
Dinah Washington

Kickin' Em Out: 1992

Two headed monster: Beck and Page.

The Traveling Wilburys consisted of three monoliths of rock in Bob Dylan, Roy Orbison and George Harrison. It also featured Tom Petty, another mega-star not quite on that level but definitely on the next shelf.

They are all Rock and Roll Hall of Famers.

Throw in Jeff Lynne of Electric Light Orchestra and we’re talking about the most amazing supergroup ever assembled.

But will the Wilburys ever be inducted into the Rock Hall? Should they be inducted? Aside from boasting a lineup that is the musical equivalent of the 2010 Miami Heat and 2011 Philadelphia Phillies starting rotation rolled into one, did they do enough - one really good album (1988’s “Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1") and one wildly uneven and maybe even horrid follow-up (1990’s “Vol 3,” haha where is “Vol. 2”)  - to warrant induction as a group?

Of course not.

Second from right: Nerdy Eric Clapton.

So given the photo and headline above, you know where I’m going with this: CDNR is kicking The Yardbirds out of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Yeah, we went there.

So they had Eric Clapton and Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck at different points, or all at once, or two at a time, or who really cares - I’m not going to sift through their boring history.

Their "hits" included "For Your Love," "Heart Full of Soul," "Shapes of Things” and "Happenings Ten Years Time Ago."

Quick - hum the last three? Ah, knew you couldn’t.

And tell me with a straight face that “For Your Love” is a great song. Again, I knew you couldn’t. It sucks, right?

Fab Five? Killer Quintet? Super-duper-group?

If you want to say the Yardbirds laid down some awesome jams, I’m with you there.

If you want to say they’re significant because they contained Clapton before he did Cream and Page before he did Zeppelin and Beck before he did whatever he went on to do, I’m with you there too.

But they’re a supergroup, not unlike the Wilburys or Bad English or Golden Smog.

Maybe 25 years from now, when there are no more bands to put in the Rock Hall because music sucks, they can come back in.

Pardon the Bad English, but for now, their asses is out.

Bobby "Blue" Bland
Booker T. and the MG's
Johnny Cash
Leo Fender
Bill Graham
The Yardbirds
The Isley Brothers
Elmore James
Doc Pomus
The Jimi Hendrix Experience
Professor Longhair
Sam and Dave

Kickin' Em Out: 1989

All of these "early influence" inductees really piss me off. Why does the Hall only recognize "early influences" but not future influences? I'm assuming "early influences" means there were no charts so there were no hits so they were never commercially recognized but had a huge impact on future artists. Fine. But what about bands later on that could never have commercial success because they could never make a Billboard chart, but their "influence" had a massive impact on what happened later. The list is endless so there's no point even getting started.

So who's going? The Ink Spots and their vocal harmonies or The Soul Stirrers and their gospel soul? Does it matter? I say no.

So we'll flip a coin and boot The Ink Spots because their name is dumber. And since we have to have a big name heave-ho, we're taking out Phil Spector. Yes, he produced legendary girl group records, and yes he was behind the boards for seminal solo works by John Lennon and George Harrison.

But Mr. Wall of Sound also royally effed up the last Beatles album and The Ramones' "End of the Century," which you could argue led to that band's demise.

Oh yeah, and he MURDERED SOMEONE.

Dion
The Ink Spots
Otis Reading
The Rolling Stones
Bessie Smith
The Soul Stirrers
Phil Spector
The Temptations
Stevie Wonder

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