Enough Already, Rock & Roll Hall of Sham(e)

Posted: September 29th, 2010 | Filed under: Music, Ruminations | No Comments »

It happens every single year, just when the nominees are named for induction into the so-called Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. I get really pissed.

Don’t get me started.

Oh well, I already am.

First of all, the whole idea of a Rock & Roll Hall of Fame has always struck me as absurd, antithetical to the whole basis of the genre. This musical form was real rebellion at a time when this land was waking up from the slumber of the post WWII Eisenhower years.

You think Public Enemy was raucous and in your face, fuhgeddaboutit?

The Coasters singing “Young Blood,” now that was sinful stuff. (So what that it was written by a couple of J-Boys in the Brill Building.)

If that wasn’t an oldie, the FCC probably wouldn’t let it on the air today.

Lady Gaga = outrageous. Uh, I don’t think so.

You ever heard Wanda Jackson’s “Let’s Have A Party.”

I never kissed a bear/ I never kissed a goose/ But I can shake a chicken/ In the middle of the room/ Let’s have a party/ Ooh, let’s have a party/ Oh, send it to the store, let’s buy some more/ Let’s have a party tonight

In the context of the staid times, these early rock & roll wonders are but two of many examples of real rebellion.

My point is that memorializing all this stuff in a building makes no sense. This music still lives and breathes and is accessible, be it on youtube or somewhere else on the dub dub dub. Or by plunking a needle down at some vinyl. This isn’t baseball where we’ll never get to see Ty Cobb again, except on scratchy old film. This is music that is still vibrant.

Not to be confused with the Rock & Roll Hall of Sham, Sam the Sham’s “Wooly Bully” is no less rockin’ today than when it was released.

I’m not going to start picking nits over what the criteria should be for a Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. There shouldn’t be one. Period. Not even for the Founding Fathers, Elvis, Bo, Little Richard, Jerry Lee, Fats and Chuck. And certainly not for . . . oh . . . I can’t even start to list the injustices.

As for the building, filled with Lennon/ McCartney lyric sheets, Hendrix guitars and Joplin’s empty Southern Comfort fifths, well . . . uh . . . I dunno. If people need to go somewhere like that to bring back the memories, I guess it’s not a bad thing. Cleveland does need an attraction downtown now that LeBron’s skipped town, and the Browns, Cavs and Indians suck.

I finally visited it years after it opened. And found myself in this one section that was just a bunch of listening stations, where you can pull up all sorts of obscure tunes along with the fabled oldies but goodies. As for a mannequin wearing a Lonely Hearts Club Band uni used on the actual album cover . . . BFD!

Okay enough. I’m gonna go pull out the Doo Wop box and chill.

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