I’m certainly not an equal fan of all fifteen artists up for induction this year. Hell, I’m not an equal fan of all the artists up for induction in any given year. I’d like to think that I’ve developed enough objectivity over the years that I can make cases for the value of a musician to culture in general as well as to other music fans. I often wish other music fans understood that a little more. That would make internet discourse a lot more tolerable. Dare to dream, I guess.
Anyway, here’s the last five nominees.
Oasis
Synopsis: Oasis is (well, was) a British band led by the oft-feuding Gallagher brothers Noel (guitar, songwriting) and Liam (lead vocals). They became a sensation in their home country almost immediately with their debut album Definitely Maybe. That album was a bit of a slow burner/Buzz Bin/press favorite in the US, but they broke through in the States with 1995’s (What’s the Story?) Morning Glory and its hit single “Wonderwall”, which has gone on to become the signature anthem of ‘90s Britpop. They carried on the tuneful pop/rock tradition through the early 21st century, with a heavy debt to The Beatles.
Plus: The Rock Hall is an American institution, I’m an American. Oasis was the second most popular British rock band of the ‘90s on these shores (with the #1 slot going to Bush, who aren’t getting into the Rock Hall ever). Those first two albums, in particular, are stellar.
Minus: This is where I will note that my 9-5 job intersects with members of Oasis, so I will sit this section out solely for this entry.
Fandom: I won’t put a rating on this one (see previous comment), but I certainly spent a solid chunk of the late ‘90s spinning Morning Glory alongside more vibey British bands like Portishead,
Sinead O’ Connor
Synopsis: Outspoken and passionate are two adjectives that are always used to describe Sinead O’Connor, and rightfully so. Her music, even at its gentlest, was heartfelt and soulful in a way that was captivating, although it also occasionally made for uncomfortable listening. She wrote and sang from the gut and through her music and her politics, set a template for women artists that has arguably gone unmatched. Although best known for her version of the Prince-written “Nothing Compares 2 U”, Sinead put together a quarter century’s worth of compelling art that spanned traditional folk, show tunes, hip-hop breakbeats and a stunningly solid album of reggae covers (Throw Down Your Arms).
Plus: There are plenty of highfalutin things I could write about Sinead’s artistry, but I’ll break it down to the essence here: the woman possessed a hell of a voice. Even if her public persona (and her lyrics) were provocative, there was a fire and urgency in her voice that made me curious about almost everything she ever put out.
Minus: Her tumultuous life and personal struggles (especially in light of her passing last year) often threatened to overtake the qualitative value of her music (as much as it informed damn near all of her music). Although she returned to fairly straight forward rock and roll in her last couple of albums, there was an all-over-the-place-ness to some of her records that made them inconsistent listens.
Fandom: 6/10. There are times when I think I appreciate who Sinead was more than I actually like her music, but…again, who she was is so ingrained in her music, it’s very hard to separate the two. Nevertheless, I was on the train before “Nothing Compares 2 U” (I was captivated immediately after seeing her on the Grammy Awards in 1989) and stayed on the train long after.
Ozzy Osbourne
Synopsis: The Prince of F***ing Darkness is already in the Hall as a member of Black Sabbath, and while some might argue that his work with Sabbath is more influential (metal as we know it would not exist without Black Sabbath), the reality is that his solo work was much, much more commercially successful. Sure, some of that is due to the provocative and wacky shit he did (biting the heads off of live animals), but most of it is because the music is solid. Even though he’s been a doddering TV dad (and a brand more than an artist) for a quarter century now, he was the single most successful solo artist in hard rock through the ‘80s and most of the ‘90s.
Plus: I think I pretty much wrapped that up in the synopsis. I’m not the world’s biggest metalhead, but thinking back to my childhood and teenage years, if you’d asked me to name a metal artist that wasn’t a band, Ozzy would’ve been it. That counts for something, right? He had (and has) brand name recognition to folks who aren’t even deeply invested in his genre of music.
Minus: I can’t pick out a specific low point in his career, from a musical standpoint (I don’t know it well enough), but if we’re talking overall pop culture, can we blame him and his family for The Kardashians?
Fandom: 4/10? I don’t own any Ozzy albums (I do own some Sabbath stuff). I’d recognize his voice if you played me a song of his, but there are only about a half dozen (maybe less?) solo Ozzy tracks that I’m intimately familiar with.
Sade
Synopsis: Forty years after their debut, Sade have outlasted every single band to emerge from the early ‘80s “sophisto-pop” movement that was at least somewhat responsible for everyone from Spandau Ballet to Simply Red to Everything but the Girl. This four-piece band, led by the iconic Helen Folasade Adu, is style and class in music personified, with a frustratingly small (6 studio albums!) but sturdy catalog of music that threads the needle between songs that make you cry, songs that make you want to get stoned, and songs that make you wanna fuck.
Plus: First off, every Sade album is a banger (and let’s not forget Sweetback, the side project formed by the non-Adu members of the band, who released two excellent albums on their own). One thing I don’t see a lot of folks talk about is their stylistic evolution. They started out making very jazz-influenced music, heavy on the torch songs (their first couple of albums even appeared on Billboard’s jazz chart). Starting with 1988’s Stronger Than Pride, their albums loosened up and incorporated dubbier, more Island-based sounds. You can play Sade next to Anita Baker. You can play Sade next to Massive Attack, You can play Sade next to Aaliyah. None of it would sound out of place.
Minus: There are only six Sade albums–eight if you count Sweetback. Over the course of forty years, that’s not very much., I wish there were more. I count my lucky stars I was able to see them live once (John Legend opened, it was fun).
Fandom: 9/10. Almost a 10/10. Very close to a 10/10. And I’ve appreciated them more as I’ve gotten older, too.
A Tribe Called Quest
Synopsis: A Tribe Called Quest arrived in a particularly fertile period for hip-hop, and evolved in spectacular fashion over the course of six (I’m sensing a theme here) studio albums. The quartet began as kind of De La Soul’s slightly less quirky cousins, morphed into a more streamlined outfit with jazz overtones, and their work has tentacles that extend into neo-soul, dance music (Q-Tip’s collaborations with Deee-Lite and The Chemical Brothers come to mind), and even alternative rock (Tribe appeared on the second Lollapalooza tour and Tip has collaborated with REM and Jack White, to name a couple).
Plus: Their catalog is as strong as anyone’s in hip-hop. After an absence of well over a decade, Tribe returned in 2016 with We Got It From Here…Thank You 4 Your Service, a more potent artistic statement than I would have thought they had in them. Sadly, that artistic renaissance was cut tragically short when Phife Dawg died during the album’s recording.
Minus: There’s a saggy middle here. I get that everyone loves J Dilla (and I fully comprehend and appreciate how his production style changed music in many ways), but even genius can upend chemistry. 1996’s Beats, Rhymes and Life still sounds undercooked in a lot of ways, and I’m not sure whether that’s due to the additions of Dilla and Consequence upsetting the delicate balance of the group, or whether Tribe just ran the fuck out of gas. I remember buying that album and being profoundly disappointed, although I’ve grown to enjoy parts of it.
Fandom: 9/10. I don’t know that I’m capable of giving anyone a 10/10. I can’t think of a single artist I’ve heard who has a perfect catalog. But damn, I’m a huge fan of so many folks on this list. I hope they all get in!