“25 years of Kylie Minogue in 17 minutes.” (Via Fette & Rohin Guha.)
You know the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is useless because it has inducted neither Chic nor Kraftwerk, both of whom are have been eligible for years and both of whom are relevant right now to acts throughout the Billboard 200 albums chart and the Hot 100 singles chart. These two bands are also — fuck you, Darth Geffen — empirically great and contextually better than eighty perecent of the sadsack bluez Xeroxers™ in the Hall. The RRHOF has inducted the hair metal studio rats known as Thee Red Hot Chili Peppers, who will get out of hell only when God sees footage of Flea playing with Patti at BAM, but even then, she won’t believe that these Post-Its ever had an idea of their own or the balls to steal an idea and juice it rather than flatten it.
But Kylie? Will she get into the Hall? No, because Americans apparently can’t understand popular music sung in English. Or style. Or hooks. No—wait, they can. So.
ETERNAL PAUSE OF DOOM.
UPDATED WITH EXTRA POINTLESS (AND EXTRA-POINTLESS) SLACKFACED ARGH: The Meters are not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Many talented and worthy sidemen, like Little Walter, are in the Hall. But The Meters (or members thereof) were a huge part of canonical songs like “Lady Marmalade” and “Right Place Wrong Time.” And they were absolute monsters on their own records, which are still being sampled almost thirty years into the mainstream sampling game. I can’t even begin to understand this one.
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