Songs Of Proof: The Class Of 2012

Between the induction of the Class Of 2011 and the announcement of the nominees for the Class Of 2012, something marvelous happened, at least I call it marvelous.  Rock Hall Monitors became a reality.  With an initial post about the idea of inducting more doo-wop artists, I began writing posts about the Rock And Roll Hall of Fame that weren't specific about artists, for the most part.  But more than that, I also began posting predictions on subsequent classes, and now, you can find them all here on this blog.  Access is much simpler.  Overall, I'm happy, and consider it marvelous.

But the Class Of 2012 of the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame was also quite marvelous.  In one of the few instances ever, the Hall made a point to rectify previous mistakes.  A special subcommittee meeting decided to induct six groups that were not inducted when the front man was inducted.  It was a stellar move on their part, and one I hope to see recur at a later date.  Even without those six groups, it's a great class, and a diverse one at that, in terms of styles.  Rap, blue-eyed soul, alternative rock, psychedelic folk, hair metal... you don't find that lineup much these days.  Sadly, even with the corrections, there are two causes for arched eyebrows.  A blues legend was inducted as an Early Influence despite not having a record before 1956, and a questionable joint induction in the British Invasion category.  A great, but sadly posthumous Ahmet Ertegun Award is bestowed, and the Award For Musical Excellence category gets a little cloudier with the induction of three engineers.  Their inductions are well-earned, just the circumstances leave questions.  The Hall loves doing that to us, but we love the celebrations every year regardless.  And in the case of this year, it is celebrated with the following songs:


The Beastie Boys:  If Run-D.M.C. wasn't proof enough of the unquestionable connection between rap and conventional post-Beatles rock, the induction of the Beastie Boys should have buried that debate down in the earth's mantle.  They started out as a hardcore punk outfit.  Now, hardcore punk itself, in my opinion, is all the proof you really need that rap is indeed a part of the rock and roll family, but because it was never a commercially successful sub-genre, at least not to the same extent that many other sub-genres were, it often gets overlooked in the discussion.  The Beastie Boys can certainly attest to that, as they didn't reach major commercial success until the samples and rhymes started flowing.  When you listen to the breadth of their work, one gets the impression that like Queen, there weren't many subject matters they wouldn't have attempted to tackle.  They are embraced as a part of nerd culture as much as they are as a part of youth culture.  Therefore, it's somewhat paradoxical that the song I've chosen to represent them is their major smash, "(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party!)," but I feel that it's a great anthem marrying rapping and rocking out.  It's a really fun song, to boot.

The Blue Caps:  Of the six groups added by special committee, this one almost seemed like the least important.  Gene Vincent was of course the main creative genius of the group's music, but more than that, the band itself was a bit of a revolving door in terms of membership.  Had the Hall been more inclusive, the induction of the Blue Caps could have easily included country superstar Buck Owens.  The Hall did induct eight members from this outfit, so they were trying to be fairly inclusive.  Vincent's guitar work is quite prominent, but the support of the Blue Caps helped give songs like "Race With The Devil" and "Bluejean Bop" a great drive, and they even provided the occasional vocal harmonies in support.  The song I'm using to represent the Blue Caps is the song I was first using for Gene Vincent, because it's my favorite song by this outfit.  I switched Gene Vincent back to "Be-Bop-A-Lula" because this song's drum line, the harmonies in the background, the bass line... it all demanded to be used for the Blue Caps instead.  And with eight members inducted, there was indeed a "Lotta Lovin'" for this band in 2012.

The Comets:  When Little Steven inducted the Rascals in 1996, he talked about them being the first true American rock and roll band.  That's a bit of a slap in the face to the Beach Boys, the Four Seasons, several instrumental bands, and most of all to the Comets who were more than just Bill Haley's entourage.  They were the band.  There was one switching out of the members at one point, around the time of the switch from Essex to Decca Records, but this was not a revolving door situation.  Especially not Rudy Pompilli, who was Haley's closest friend and confidant and whose death devastated Haley and sent him into a downward spiral until he joined Rudy in death in 1981.  They were truly one of the first American rock and roll bands, arguably the first, as they began back in 1951 under the name of the Saddlemen.  The song selected for them further enforces the fact they were a band, a single unit, who belonged together.  In the song, Haley gives a verse to highlight the guitarist, Fran Beecher at the time; the saxophonist, Rudy Pompilli; the rhythm section, and the band as a whole, highlighting their synergy.  One of their many Top 40 hits that time and the Oldies radio format seemed to have forgotten, they are honored as patron saints of rock and roll with "The Saints Rock 'N Roll."

The Crickets:  There's some confusion in the lore of the Crickets.  One version of the story has it that Buddy Holly didn't want to have a band, just be a solo act.  On his "Super Gold" live syndicated radio program, Mike Harvey even said that Buddy Holly was the only person, on multiple tracks, playing and singing on "That'll Be The Day."  That apparently isn't true after all, but it still might be true to point out that the formation of the Crickets as a cohesive unit was to sidestep Holly's contract with Decca Records and instead get "That'll Be The Day" released on the Brunswick label.  That's probably a mishmash of fact and fantasy, and the real truth is probably somewhere mixed in with that and other versions of the story.  Whatever the story, I somehow suspect that if Allsop and Jennings hadn't relinquished their seats on that ill-fated flight, the band would have been inducted together back in 1986, regardless of how the band was parting ways at the time.  If you go back to the post celebrating the inaugural class, you'll recall that I chose "Rave On" for Buddy Holly, since that was credited as a solo Buddy Holly record, and I love it so much.  For the Crickets, I decided to go with a song that was credited to the Crickets, and is almost a mirror song of "Rave On," with several similar elements, but also includes the background harmonies of the rest of the Crickets.  Listen to "Rave On" back to back with "Oh, Boy!" and tell me if you agree in the Comments below.

Donovan:  Coming back to artists that got inducted via the ballot, I was actually extremely surprised that Donovan missed the year before.  He had never been on the Previously Considered list that anybody knew of, and yet his nomination came as no surprise.  He is something of a singular artist, being the premiere innovator of psychedelic folk.  Sadly, it didn't prove to be much of a widespread phenomenon, Donovan in fact being the only psychedelic folk artist I can name off the top of my head.  "Eight Miles High" was certainly psychedelic, and "Mr. Tambourine Man" was about a drug dealer, but I'd be hard-pressed to call the Byrds or Bob Dylan "psychedelic folk," let alone in the same vein as Donovan.  Like most British artists with longevity, his music evolved over the years, and in his case, in short order.  In three years, he went from "Catch The Wind" to "Atlantis."  Despite the sub-genre not becoming too huge, his innovation in it is most certainly noteworthy, and was the driving force that led me to choose "Hurdy Gurdy Man" in this project.  I admit to liking "Wear Your Love Like Heaven" a lot more, but this is the song that I believe most aptly depicts what makes his music special and makes him worthy of induction.

Tom Dowd:  The first of three engineers inducted in this class, and in fact, pretty much ever in the Hall history.  Given that Tom Dowd was the main engineer for Atlantic Records, it might have been more fitting to give him a Non-Performer induction in the form of an Ahmet Ertegun Award.  Nevertheless, there's a lot to be said for what Robbie Robertson said about engineers: their work on the board manipulates sound, its volume, and overall balance to the point where it's akin to a musical instrument, and that engineers who work boards are almost like musicians themselves.  Working with some of the major artists in R&B on several of their wall-smashing sounds, Tom Dowd contributed to the sonic and literal architecture of the Atlantic Records empire.  The choice of song for him was partially a scramble for a recognizable song that would cement his legacy in people's minds, so they'd say, "Oh yeah, makes sense to induct him."  However, it's sometimes said that jazz is an extremely difficult style to play well, from a technical perspective, so by extension, it's probably a hard one to engineer well, making sure you catch the nuances and the artist's spirit, which is true of any style, but perhaps even more so of jazz.  And to make it even more troublesome, imagine it with a large band playing a stylistically big arrangement, making sure no one input gets too hot.  That's what makes Bobby Darin's version of "Mack The Knife" the ideal song to salute Dowd.  A big sound that shares the record for most key changes in a pop hit (tied with the Four Seasons' "Opus 17 (Don't You Worry 'Bout Me)").  It must have been a tough record for Dowd to engineer, but the results paid off in spades.  With nine weeks at #1, it was the biggest hit record for the Atlantic empire during the twentieth century.

The Faces:  And here we have the thorny situation of the joint induction.  The Small Faces and the Faces.  Are they one band, or are they two?    The Hall made efforts to justify the induction calling them a unified band that had two different lead singers, akin to Van Halen.  As this blog was up and running by the time this ballot came about, I weighed in on this conundrum in some detail.  Actually, I talked about it twice, discussing the arguments for and against the joint nomination.  An issue this complex takes a lot of thinking and deciding what to do.  In the case here, I had a couple solutions in mind.  As the first link shows, the album First Step was recorded with Rod Stewart and Ron Wood, but was in fact credited to the Small Faces.  At one point, I seriously thought about using the song "Shake! Shudder!" from that album, as it has elements that both hearken back to the Steve Marriott era and point to the direction that the band would eventually take.  In the end though, I went a different direction and decided to go with the well-known "Stay With Me" to represent the Faces and the raucous rock and roll that they gave the world.

The Famous Flames:  We've covered the three upbeat rocking backing bands already in quick order, and now we're starting the R&B vocal groups whose fronts were inducted solo.  Those who follow this blog and also see my posts on the Future Rock Legends know that I wasn't on board with this group being inducted in the first place, let alone in the Performer category.  I won't rehash my arguments, but I know I'm not really alone in my opinion either.  On the "Who Cares About the Rock Hall?" podcast, Joe Kwaczala has made utterances that strongly suggest he agrees with that position too.  And of course, you'll also recall the counterarguments by a fellow hobbyist whom I highly respect, despite the fact that we differ on this point and a couple other artists.  I don't particularly believe that keeping James Brown grounded, focused, or sober is sufficient argument for a Performer induction, nor do I accept the post hoc ergo propter hoc argument that states because James Brown was brought on as a member of the Famous Flames and got his start in the group, any and all accomplishments of James Brown are also credit for the Famous Flames.  I don't accept that argument at all, but I do respect the point of view that says James Brown could have and should have been inducted twice: once with the Famous Flames, and again solo.  In light of that position, the induction of the Famous Flames in Performer category is certainly very sensible.  I accept that if you believe that if James Brown should have been a double inductee, then you must not just accept, but practically advocate for the Famous Flames as a Performer inductee too.  And that's how they were inducted, though James Brown will never see a second induction.  As far as songs go, that really complicates the problem, because so few of the songs they were credited on can they actually be heard on.  However, "Try Me," is an exceptional piece of early soul that beautifully showcases the Famous Flames' singing.  The harmonies are exquisite and either this or "I'll Go Crazy" is my favorite song ever recorded by any endeavor of James Brown, and both feature the voices of the Famous Flames.

Guns N' Roses:  At the time of Guns N' Roses' induction, hair metal was very much a taboo with the powers-that-be of the Foundation, which makes their induction on their first year of eligibility all the more surprising.  What separates them from other hair metal acts might be something ineffable yet palpable.  Their collective persona was the pinnacle of excess, and yet they didn't seem like a band that was in it just for the drugs, money, and groupies--though they weren't going to turn down any of those either!  Like a lot of guitar rock bands, much of that persona came from their lead guitarist and their lead singer.  Slash, with his hat, shades, and guitar chops continued to signify and speak well of the band long after he left the band.  Meanwhile, Axl Rose went for the tortured genius vibe, but ultimately exuded a guano loco vibe, which is equally attractive in the world of rock and roll.  Again, it is perhaps mildly ironic that I chose the song I did.  "Welcome To The Jungle" is a song about the excess of the Hollywood lifestyle, describing it without apology, and perhaps serving as a warning against it.  The guitars, the bass solo, and even the way Axl sings out the "Sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na" lines each time all serve as a sign that clearly warns, "Enter at your own risk."  It's a wild song from the seemingly wildest of the wild hair metal bands.

Glyn Johns:  Our second of three engineers in this class, Glyn Johns actually presented an additional opportunity to settle the whole debacle involving the joint induction of the Small Faces/Faces.  Glyn Johns did a lot of engineering for the British Invasion, and among the acts and albums he ran the board for, he was at the controls for the recording of the Small Faces' Ogdens' Nut Gone Flake.  So, at one point, I was thinking of making a compromise out of it by using the Faces' "Stay With Me" to salute the jointly inducted band, and then use "Lazy Sunday," from that album to salute Glyn Johns and also ensure that I'd used both incarnations of that induction to quell any sense of upset.  That's a kind of an odd thing to say, since by the time this induction came about, I'd pretty much abandoned hope of ever making a radio career again, let alone a program, and never planned on sharing this project with anyone, so I don't know who would be upset.  Myself, I guess.  It's said that you are your harshest critic.  Anyway, I eventually decided against going this route because a) I didn't want to drag another inductee into this mess and thus shortchange their own merits either, and b) "Lazy Sunday" is kind of an annoying song for me.  Despite doing so much engineering for the British Invasion, I ultimately chose a song by a band from this side of the pond.  And not just by any band, but by the Band.  Though it's disputed whether it was Todd Rundgren or Glyn Johns who made the final mix, I'm favoring the Glyn Johns theory, and going with "The Shape I'm In" to salute his engineering talent.

Freddie King:  He was credited both as "Freddie" and "Freddy," so don't sweat how you spell it.  This blues legend was the second of the blues triumvirate with the surname "King" to be inducted, but he was the only one to be inducted as an Early Influence.  He first recorded in 1956, but he didn't get a record deal until a few years later, so his induction as an Early Influence has been widely decried as a terrible move by the Foundation.  Like Wanda Jackson, he had been nominated as a Performer on that ballot, but received the side door treatment.  As this was more egregious a bad move by the Hall than with Wanda, I didn't bother trying to make it as early as possible.  I just looked at what songs by Freddie showcased the best of his talent.  I chose a song with fantastic singing (though some of his influential songs were instrumentals), had delicious guitar licks, utilized a recognizable blues format, and just overall struck me as a great record.  That song ended up being "I'm Tore Down," and I'm still happy I chose that song every time I listen to the CD that contains this class.

Don Kirshner:  The induction of Don Kirshner sadly follows the common story line of being inducted the year after their death.  It happens all too often, but we're still able to celebrate all that they brought to the music industry.  In the case of Don Kirshner, that includes his work as a music publisher that published several of the quintessential American rock and roll songs of the 1960's.  He had an ear for amazing music and an eye for talent.  Working with Brill building songwriters, he then moved on to greater things, particularly finding new ways to bring music to television.  Throughout the '70's, it was Don Kirshner's Rock Concert that gave audiences a new opportunity to see the latest and greatest acts of the day.  His other efforts marrying music to television included the creation of the Archies, and most famously began by turning four actors into rock stars of sorts.  And how great it was when those actors decided they wanted to be a legitimate rock and roll band more than a TV show.  Don Kirshner is the man most responsible for giving us the Monkees, and the argument of their being prefab versus being legitimate is still a fun discussion, especially when expanded beyond the scope of the Monkees.  It's a gift that keeps giving, and thus I've decided to honor the late Don Kirshner with the Monkees' "Last Train To Clarksville."

Cosimo Matassa:  Our third esteemed engineer from this class, Cosimo Matassa was the engineer who showed the rest of the world what New Orleans sounded like.  His working the boards helped finalize the way the traditions of the Big Easy contributed to the genesis and the evolution of rock and roll music.  The original "Lawdy Miss Clawdy" came out of his studio, as did Roy Brown's "Good Rockin' Tonight," and Aaron Neville's "Tell It Like It Is."  Of course, Cosimo's most faithful customer was none other than the recently departed Antoine Domino, better known as Fats Domino.  Matassa was the engineer for virtually every Fats Domino song, including the seminal hits.  One of the most rollicking and rocking songs from the Fat Man which still contained the legendary party feel of New Orleans is the widely covered "I'm Walkin'."  It's one of the most fun records from Domino, and it really serves to sum up the accomplishments and contributions of Cosimo Matassa.

The Midnighters;  It's hard to say which group I was more excited about being inducted at long last: the Comets or the Midnighters.  For starters, this vocal group started out as the Midnighters, not Hank Ballard And The Midnighters.  Actually they were first called the Royals, but the point is not only did Ballard's solo career not amount to a whole hill of beans, but the group was never meant to be a showcase for Ballard.  He was a part of the group that made foundational rock and roll that was racy, rhythmic, harmonic, euphonious, and rocking.  From "Finger Poppin' Time" to "The Hoochi Coochi Coo," their style of R&B was unmistakable, and built on the success and raunchiness of "Work With Me Annie," a song so racy that the FCC deemed it indecent for radio airplay.  The entirety of the group broke down walls and blazed new trails.  Since this is an induction for the Midnighters, I did indeed decide to go with the breakthrough smash "Work With Me Annie," which was credited to the Midnighters, without mentioning a front man on the label.  (Vocal Group Hall Of Fame Song Of Proof: "Let's Go, Let's Go, Let's Go")

The Miracles:  Of the six groups inducted by special subcommittee, the Miracles are the group that gave me the most mixed feelings.  I never doubted the necessity of inducting the Miracles into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame, but I also genuinely believed that Smokey Robinson's induction as a soloist was also well-earned, though perhaps a bit premature.  Smokey's solo career was something truly special in its own right, and I wanted that 1987 induction to celebrate his solo efforts, and not just be a catchall for everything he did in the Miracles, as well as in the capacity as an in-house songwriter for the Motown empire.  It was my sincere hope that the Miracles would be nominated at some point and also receive induction and give Smokey Robinson two inductions.  I felt it was justifiable.  The induction of the Miracles in this capacity quelled any hopes for that.  I worry that at some point there will be another special subcommittee that will just decide to induct the Belmonts and not give Dion a second induction that I genuinely believe he so richly deserves.  So, I would have rather had a regular nomination process happen and give Smokey a second nod.  In the context of the special subcommittee selection, it makes sense that they would only focus on the '60's lineup, but I didn't particularly agree with that decision either.  The way Billy Griffin carried on the tradition after Smokey went solo was something special too, and really, he should have been included in the induction as well.  But he wasn't.  And I chose to use "Love Machine (Part 1)" as a protest against that slight, and since this wasn't going to be a second induction for Smokey Robinson, then it was going to be a song that he wasn't on, and that would be that.  (Vocal Group Hall Of Fame Song Of Proof:  "Ooh Baby Baby")

Laura Nyro:  One of my favorite things about the induction of Laura Nyro as a member of the Class Of 2012 is that among the Rock Hall hobbyists, I was literally the only person who predicted that she would get in.  She was my fifth seed, just eking out Donna Summer, but I predicted her to make it, and I was the only one who did.  That's a little bit of ego on my part to be sure, but it also speaks to how underappreciated the work of Laura Nyro has long been by anyone not in the industry.  She's often included in the conversation of those who were the least deserving of induction, alongside Percy Sledge and Ritchie Valens.  In the Revisited fan project on the Future Rock Legends site, she was inducted as a Non-Performer, reducing her to a songwriter, and not a singing talent.  Well, she was absolutely a singing talent, and a phenomenal one at that.  From "Sexy Mama" to "And When I Die," her singing of her compositions were something spellbinding.  I've gushed before about how much I love "I Never Meant To Hurt You," a song that is very much of the style of Burt Bachrach and Hal David, and is far superior to the duo's works... she essentially beat them in their own wheelhouse with a song that evoked the imagery of singing under a streetlight along the sidewalk of a street that is normally bustling by day, and usually at night too, but this particular night, was quiet.  The song I've chosen for her in this project though, is "Wedding Bell Blues," a song better remembered as being performed by the Fifth Dimension, but there's something so charming about Laura's version.  The harmonica playing on it gives an additional Southern charm to it, and the whole arrangement is pristine blue-eyed soul.  But it's the way Laura sings it.  It's about pressuring the boy to take the plunge, and yet she delivers the message in a way that's sexy, seductive, assuring Bill that she will take it upon herself to make sure he doesn't regret taking her hand in marriage.  It's something that gets lost in the inside joke of the Fifth Dimension's version, and I'd rather salute Laura Nyro with that song than them.  So that's what I did.

Red Hot Chili Peppers:  This is another band that I use to explain the difference between respecting something and liking it.  I respect everything that this band brought to the evolution of rock and roll and acknowledge their talent.  I just hate listening to their music.  Fans of this blog will recall that I ranked them #1 in terms of merits from the entire ballot this class came from, but that I also ranked them dead last in terms of liking them.  A few years ago, Cracked.com did an article about creative geniuses that need to take a break.  Red Hot Chili Peppers were on the list.  I'll spare you all the snide comments made, but the essential gist was that this was a band that needed to go on hiatus and find a new muse.  The article contended that this band had fully and completely exhausted the theme of love for the state of California, and particularly for the city of Los Angeles.  They had become stale and needed to do something different, or so it was posited.  I'm not sure if I agree with that, because their music just can't hold my interest long enough to go deep on them.  I like "Catholic School Girls Rule" and their cover of "Higher Ground."  I can even tolerate "Give It Away."  But "Scar Tissue" is on my list of the worst songs ever recorded.  It's just so annoying.  It's a song that exemplifies what it meas for a song to be dying of thirst.  I hate it so much, I couldn't use it, even though it epitomizes their sound, in my opinion.  Another song that does that pretty well, but isn't quite as annoying, is the big hit, "Under The Bridge," and definitely is all about the love for L.A.  And that's the song I decided to use here.

The Small Faces:  Ultimately, in the end, even the Hall doesn't believe their own load of baloney about them being a single band with a contiguous history and two notable eras.  In the previous layout of the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame's website, the biography for the Small Faces/Faces actually said that, they were ultimately a single band.  The current layout and bio on this inductee begins with saying, "It takes two.  Two bands that is."  And nowhere in the bio does it actually bring it back to call them a unified effort.  I regarded them as a single band that featured Ian MacLagan's organ as the linchpin of their sound, regardless of era.  The Hall calls them two bands, and it's now apparent that the reason they were nominated in this capacity was because they didn't believe either version could get in independently.  And if that's what they truly believe, they maybe they shouldn't have bothered nominating them at all.  As for the early era, with Steve Marriott on lead vocals, the Small Faces were considered one of the best and front runners of the mod musical movement.  They took elements of soul, but I'd be hard-pressed to call them soulful.  Like the Beatles, they started with basic pop sensibilities, and used that as a springboard to grow and evolve, be more creative.  I can't say the results always resonate with me, but it is interesting to at least look down that corridor and see where it leads.  I think the song by the Small Faces that does this best would have to be "Tin Soldier," which I use in this project as an eighteenth song, because ultimately, it was an induction of eighteen entities under the lie of only seventeen.  It's a lie to our faces (no pun intended), and I ultimately just refuse to let it go unchallenged, so there is a second song here.

And with that bold statement, we wrap up the look at the Class Of 2012.  Any thoughts about this playlist you'd care to share?  I'd love to read about it in the Comments below.  If you feel like going down memory lane and seeing my post back in 2011 on this blog, predicting this class, I've got your hookup here.  I consider myself to have gone 2.5/6 on this one, because I did predict Freddie King to get in, but as a Performer.  That's my thought on it.  Feel free to share yours.  Recapping:

the Beastie Boys: "(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party!)"
the Blue Caps: "Lotta Lovin'"
the Comets: "The Saints Rock 'N Roll"
the Crickets: "Oh, Boy!"
Donovan: "Hurdy Gurdy Man"
Tom Dowd: "Mack The Knife" by Bobby Darin
the Faces: "Stay With Me"
the Famous Flames: "Try Me"
Guns N' Roses: "Welcome To The Jungle"
Glyn Johns: "The Shape I'm In" by the Band
Freddie King: "I'm Tore Down"
Don Kirshner: "Last Train To Clarksville" by the Monkees
Cosimo Matassa: "I'm Walkin'" by Fats Domino
the Midnighters: "Work With Me Annie"
the Miracles: "Love Machine (Part 1)"
Laura Nyro: "Wedding Bell Blues"
Red Hot Chili Peppers: "Under The Bridge"
the Small Faces: "Tin Soldier"