Rock the Vote

Sting's solo career went on to win him plenty of critical acclaim, Grammys, a spot in the Songwriting Hall of Fame, and a collaboration with Puff Daddy. He can still pack Blossom and get penniless mothers to donate to Greenpeace. Sting is exactly the kind of inductee the Rock Hall loves -- a repeat offender with a dwindling solo career.

Take Eric Clapton, for instance. He's been inducted three times already, including with Cream, the Yardbirds, and as a solo performer. Though no one would challenge the might of his ensemble work, including Derek & the Dominoes, his solo stuff was little more than flaccid soft-pop and riffs fit for a Chili's ribs commercial. Still, he's Clapton. If he shat on notebook paper, we'd call it art too.

Since Clapton went in as a solo artist seven years after the Hall inducted Cream, it's almost a sure bet that Sting goes in 2010 -- seven years after the Police got their props. But that's only if the Hall doesn't induct that assortment of mummies known as the Traveling Wilburys instead.

Black Flag
No band logo has been as frequently tattooed onto human flesh as Black Flag's triple-bar insignia. That fact alone says worlds about the outfit's influence.

Started by guitarist Greg Ginn in 1976, Los Angeles' Black Flag gave birth to American hardcore. While punks were still firmly rooted in the pop-rock sensibilities of the Ramones, Black Flag ventured into the worlds of metal and even free jazz. They sounded more pissed than any rock outfit before, hence the term "hardcore."

The band has also been cited as the pioneer of the D.I.Y. (do-it-yourself) movement, where bands forsook major labels, opting to manufacture and distribute their music themselves. In fact, Ginn's SST Records remains one of the most iconic indie labels of all time, having put out records by everyone from Sonic Youth and Hüsker Dü to the Minutemen and the Descendents.

Though the band split in 1986, its influence is now more prevalent than ever. Thanks to Black Flag, basements and garages across America are flooded with hardcore bands. The SoCal skate punk of the Warped Tour also owes its existence to the group.

While Black Flag became eligible for induction last year, it's unlikely the band will find many advocates among the induction committee's critics or industry bigwigs. The band's beefy, angry-white-guy image never sat well with the liberal, lofty types at the major music rags. They probably couldn't tell Henry Rollins from a skinhead. What's more, the outfit's music is so aggressive and atonal that if your idea of the perfect rock band is the Beatles, Black Flag will sound like horrible noise. It also doesn't help that the band dove into a protracted legal dispute with industry powerhouse MCA Records in the mid-'80s.

But it's probably better for the Rock Hall to leave Black Flag alone. After all, it already got cussed out by Johnny Rotten when it inducted the Sex Pistols this year. Black Flag would likely offer the Hall the same verbal beatdown.

Alanis Morissette
When Jagged Little Pill came out in 1995, it created a pop-music monster.

The album spent 12 consecutive weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard and was one of only three records, including Thriller, to ever spend a year in the top 10. It was also a critical success, deemed by Rolling Stone to be one of the 500 best records of all time.

Since then, major labels have been chasing the dragon that is Morissette -- a female solo artist with just enough edge to make her seem cool, but not so much that she'll scare off the housewives and their tween daughters. The masses want sass, not PJ Harvey. And that's what the industry gave them, churning out acts like Avril Lavigne, Kelly Clarkson, and Ashlee Simpson. Even Pink abandoned her R&B roots, realizing there was more money in singing pseudo-angsty pop numbers.

Arguably, Morissette has had more influence on the music industry than any other artist in the past 10 years, making her a shoo-in for the Rock Hall.

Then again, Morissette's mid-'90s success made mainstream female artists indistinguishable. Like Morissette, none of her followers write their own music (which is fine if you've got the skills of Tina Turner). They all have the same kooky hair dye and reissued Stones T's. And though they flaunt a fierce independence and intellect, their songs never go beyond cheating boyfriends.