Leave it to Madonna to make the right gesture. For her induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, she didn’t worry about whether her career as a pop hitmaker, image maker, sex symbol and provocateuse qualified her as a important figure in any narrowly defined genre of rock ’n’ roll. She just brought on an unquestioned rocker — Iggy Pop, the blunt, anarchic and durable songwriter and performer who’s a fellow Michigan-born musician — to sing punk-chorded versions of her hits “Burnin’ Up” and “Ray of Light.” He was shirtless, hyperactive and backed by the Stooges, who along with him have been nominated but snubbed by the Hall of Fame.
Madonna entered the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in its 23rd annual induction ceremony, held Monday night at the Waldorf-Astoria and telecast live on VH1 Classic. She was named to the hall alongside the Indiana rocker John Mellencamp, the Canadian songwriter Leonard Cohen, the instrumental band the Ventures, from Tacoma, Wash., and the British Invasion band the Dave Clark Five, whose lead singer, Mike Smith, died on Feb. 28.
The Louisiana-born blues harmonica player Little Walter, a major figure in Chicago blues, was inducted as an influence on rock ’n’ roll. The songwriters and producers Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff, whose Philadelphia International label was a 1970s soul powerhouse, were named as nonperformers; their award had been renamed the Ahmet Ertegun Award, after the founder of Atlantic Records and one of the founders of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
But it was Madonna’s night. She was introduced by the multimillion-selling pop singer Justin Timberlake, who collaborated on her coming album, “Hard Candy.” He said that while they were working together, he had come to the studio one day feeling ill, and Madonna had suggested a shot of vitamin B12. She didn’t call a doctor, he said. She took a Zip-Loc bag of B12 syringes from her designer bag, said, “Drop ’em,” gave him the shot, and added, “Nice top shelf.” Mr. Timberlake said, “That was one of the greatest days of my life.”
Madonna, calling herself a “control freak,” immediately corrected him. “I said, ‘Pull your pants down,’ ” she asserted, before starting one of the longest speeches given at any Hall of Fame ceremony. Among the people she thanked were naysayers: “The ones that said I was talentless, that I was chubby, that I couldn’t sing, that I was a one-hit wonder,” she said. “They pushed me to be better, and I am grateful for their resistance.”
The annual induction ceremony, for musicians whose first commercial releases were at least 25 years ago, took place as the recording business struggles.
- NYT (03-11-08)
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