Certainly the evening was ripe with irony, When Mandy Moon, daughter of The Who's late great loon drummer, Keith, accepted his award, she noted, "My father was banned from this hotel." Her dad's old bandmate, Pete Townshend, described The Who unapologetically as "an irritant" and warned the rock establishment against the risks of self-admiration. "It's not up to us to understand [new music]," he said. "We just have to get the f—out of the way." As for the Hall of Fame, which is to be built in Cleveland, said Townshend, "[It sounds] like the Hard Rock Cafe without the hamburgers."
...WHILE OTHERS ASKED: WHOSE SOIREE NOW?
For those who missed the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Awards, there were other places, other parties. There was, for instance, the Golden Globe Awards bash at the Hilton in Beverly Hills. Marjoe Gortner hosted a celebrity shindig amid the snows of Canada's Banff National Park. And then there were the American Music Awards in L.A. and the first America's Dance Honors in San Diego.
The appeal of the Golden Globes, of course, is based largely on what they are not—the Oscars. "It's much more relaxed," said nominee Sally Field. "Here, people drink too much and talk about what everyone else is wearing."
North of the border, parkas and frozen toes were de rigueur among the hardy souls—including Ali MacGraw, Angie Dickinson and Frankie Avalon—who came to ski and be seen at a benefit for African wildlife. "It was almost worth the wind damage," said Dickinson. "But now I'll have to dive into a pound of moisturizer."
Back in San Diego, oft-reincarnated actress and hoofer Shirley MacLaine had the last laugh at the dance awards by poking fun at her selves. "I've waited a lifetime for this," said Shirley. "Perhaps several."
From rock's gritty inception, iconoclasm has been as much a part of the music as backbeat calls to rebellion and lusty, three-chord celebrations of love. Even when today's rock establishment convenes to celebrate itself, as it did during the fifth annual Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction banquet at New York City's Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, the old spirit seems to mock the assembled millionaires and remind them whence they came. "Rock and roll has become respectable," noted cockney Kink Ray Davies, himself "all tarted up" in black tie to accept induction. "What a bummer."