Insert Foot vs. the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

I was curious as to when the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame will announce its big winners this year, so I would know when to get angry and start picking fights on social media.

I do understand the irony of disliking something so much I write about it, thereby bringing it even more attention. But considering how many people read me in 2023, I don’t really feel like that’s an issue.

I went to Uncle Google, which took me to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame website. That was terribly unhelpful. So I used the little automated chatbot thingie. A transcription of how that went:

Me: “When is the next class of inductees announcement?”

Unhelpful robot: “Tap ‘Notify me about 2022 Induction Ceremony Tickets’ to subscribe to an email update when ticket on-sale information becomes available.

Me: “I don’t want tickets. When are the inductees announced?”

Unhelpful robot: “Purchasing tickets? Email the team

ti*****@ro******.org











with any specific questions.”

Me: “No, stupid robot. When is the next class announced?”

Stupid robot: “Discover how you can connect with us and plan your student tour. Visit below for more information.”

Me: “I don’t want to go to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Well, I might if you buy me an airplane ticket. And a hotel room. And some snacks. … I want to know when you’re announcing the next inductees. I don’t want to go – I don’t even want to be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.”

Stupid, unhelpful robot: “Need assistance purchasing tickets? Email the team

ti*****@ro******.org











with any specific questions.”

And so on.

There you have the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in a nutshell. Too commercial and constantly missing the point.

This was originally going to be a nonsensical column about who I believe should be in a nonsensical hall of fame this year. So what? Things went bad.

I’ve instead decided there’s absolutely no use for a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame other than to further commercialize something that’s completely objective and meant to make the decision-makers believe they’re worthy of deciding.

I believe the most rock and roll thing the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame can do at this point is to blow the whole thing up.

Set the charges, push the button, and watch it implode.

All that glass breaking would make a magnificent sound and the visuals would be fantastic. Use lasers, flamethrowers, whatever it takes.

I’m not trying to start trouble, because, after all, how rock and roll would that be?

Actually…

No. Violence is bad, blowing up buildings without the proper permits is bad. But it should go. Or, even better, become something else.

Rock and roll was never meant to be this exclusive. Though still a work in progress, it was one of the first modern art forms to realistically break barriers of race, gender, nationality (I know some people back in the 1980s who sang Loudness songs in the original Japanese without having any idea what we … they … were singing).

Rock and roll was only supposed to require as much money as you could earn at a lousy job and some joy to make. And it still can.

There are better ways to celebrate rock and roll than breaking out the fine cutlery, renting a suit and having awkward all-star jams. Experience it. Go to a club, explore new music (which can be a challenge as you gain years, but still).

Learn an instrument. Start a band, be terrible and get better. You’re never too young or too old. Piss off your parents or, even better, piss off your children.

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame shouldn’t be defined by who’s in it, or not in it. They should make it a rock and roll history museum and jam as much inside as possible. Make it as big as the Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C. and give it various wings, so people can soak it up at their own pace. Instead of induction speeches, have live music every night.

Celebrate and play and listen and listen some more. That’s the best way to honor it.

Follow music critic Tony Hicks at Twitter.com/TonyBaloney1967.