Let's be fair: The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is never going to satisfy everybody.
When it comes to the annual griping over the list of acts it enshrines — actually, two rounds of griping, the short list of nominees in the fall and the final list of inductees in the winter — some grievances are fairer than others.
Complaining about the Hall's overemphasis on a certain strain of blues-based, Boomer-friendly guitar act? Legit. Bitching that Madonna or Grandmaster Flash don't belong, because hey, it's not called the Dance Hall of Fame or the Rap Hall of Fame? That attitude is even lamer than the Rock Hall at its lamest. (And those who claim rock 'n' roll shouldn't be in a hall of any kind? You have my sympathies, but come on — that ship's sailed. Let's at least make them get it right.)
Still, most of the Rock Hall's perception problems are of its own making. Acts become eligible 25 years after their first record release — a reasonable cutoff, but then certain acts coast in during their first year of eligibility while other, greater acts are left cooling their heels. Die-hard fans of a band keep close tabs on when they become Hall-eligible (heads up, fellow Pixies lovers: Come On Pilgrim just turned 25 last month), and every year past that date adds to the mounting fan resentment.
Moreover, by creating a voting system whereby only six to eight acts get in annually, the Hall has generated a huge backlog of snubbed artists they'll never catch up with.
Read the rest here. It's worth it.