Rock and Roll's Haunted House

Rock and Roll's Haunted House
By Brian Baker
May 2005

Rock and roll has always been haunted by the shambling ghosts of its own past.Sometimes the ghosts have been the literal presence of rock's dead royalty,spirits who have lingered in an effort to somehow achieve the potential in deaththat was deprived them in their all too brief lives. Sometimes the ghosts havebeen more ephemeral or metaphorical, wraiths of long forgotten artists and stylesthat shimmer back into view because of a contemporary cover version or a strategicallyplaced soundtrack cut. The ghosts are always different but the haunting remainsthe same.

Nowhere do the ghosts of rock and roll congregate more plentifully than at theRock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremonies, and 2003 was a banner yearfor haunting. This year there were so many in attendance that Bill Murray, DanAykroyd and Ernie Hudson should have hosted the event.

There were the ghosts of old animosities. The Police reunited after an 18 yearhiatus, performing three of their biggest hits ("Roxanne," "Messagein a Bottle" and "Every Breath You Take"), and although AndySummers joked about the band's complete lack of ego, it was clear thata great deal of friction still existed among the trio; Stewart Copeland wasreportedly unhappy with the set list due to the distinct lack of drumming spotlight.And so the ghost of the Police's ugly dissolution nearly two decades agowas summoned from beyond to do the bidding of the Rock and Roll Hall of FameInduction Committee. Scary, boys and girls.

Even scarier were the ghosts that still haunt Elvis Costello and former Attractionsbassist Bruce Thomas, who grabbed his trophy and bolted the stage as his ex-bosscelebrated his quick departure with a rude and expressive gesture. Some ghostsare mean and refuse to find peace in the grave of time, preferring to roam rock'scorridors and pick at old wounds.

There were the uncomfortable ghosts left by the visibly absent. The RighteousBrothers' induction served to remind the assembled multitude that theirmentor, Phil Spector, had long ago left the land of the living and was now residingin a misty netherworld of his own making with a nasty crime hanging over hisonce impossibly talented head.

Some of the ghosts were very old. With the induction of AC/DC, no one, not bandor fan or ambivalent bystander, could deny the presence of Bon Scott in thecontext of the proceedings. It was Scott who defined the band's throat-rattlingroar and it was Scott's legacy that set the standard for the Youngs andtheir metal-forged band of debauched and merry men to not only meet but exceedin the years after his untimely death. Bon Scott continues to haunt AC/DC butin the best possible way.

And some of the ghosts were impossibly and tragically new. Although it was almostcertain that the Clash would not perform at rock and roll's annual historicaldog and pony show, the remote possibility of a spur of the moment reunion wasofficially snuffed with the death of Joe Strummer just before Christmas. Youcould see Strummer's presence in the faces of his mates; the newest spiritsgenerally haunt the hardest.

Which brings us to rock and roll's newest spirits, but most assuredly notthe metaphorical ghosts of rock's pampered and spoiled hierarchy who can'tset aside petty slights from decades-old feuds. These are the spirits of 98hardy souls who braved a cold Rhode Island night to see a rock show. This isthe spirit of one of the rock and roll warriors they came to see. Their passingscame in a place that is exactly like any number of places that we have all beenfor exactly the same reason, a place we recognize in our minds eye just as werealize how close to spirithood we all are even in the simple act of going toa club to rock out for a night.

These are your Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductees. We do not know their names,but we will never forget them. For those who were about to rock, we salute you.