Rock the Vote

As a founding member of N.W.A., he dirtied up a once benign art form with gritty rhymes about drugs, guns, and cop-killing. On his 1992 solo, The Chronic, he established the West Coast G-funk sound, with his creeping keyboard work and heavy beats. But Dre didn't make a name just for himself. Snoop Dogg, Eminem, Eve, the Game, and 50 Cent all owe their millions to his production skills and signature sound. His dense layers of funk and soul samples also revolutionized sampling -- not just for hip-hop, but all of pop music.

In 2004, Jann Wenner and his cronies ranked Dre No. 54 in its list of the "100 Greatest Artists of All Time." But it's unlikely the Hall will offer the Doctor a seat at their table anytime soon.

Take a look at soul music: Due to inducting artists at the pace of roughly one a year, the Hall's plumbing is so clogged with eligible artists that '60s icons like Percy Sledge and the Ronettes are getting in only now.

The same will likely hold true for hip-hop, yet another musical form created by black people and only tangentially related to rock music. In a purist's mind, rap isn't rock, which is why Dr. Dre will have to take a back seat to groups like Nirvana and Metallica.

If Dre does get in, it will likely be with N.W.A. -- a more efficient choice for the Rock Hall, seeing as they can induct him, Eazy-E, and Ice Cube all at once. But even N.W.A. seems a controversial pick for an institution as politically correct as the Rock Hall. These were the guys rhyming about killing bitches and selling crack to 10-year-olds, after all.

With limited space for black folk, the committee will probably just go with a respectable group like Public Enemy and call it a day, even if N.W.A. and Dre have been as influential as any hip-hop legend out there.

John Mayer
Mayer is to Hendrix what Bolton was to Otis.

Anyone who has heard "Your Body Is a Wonderland" knows that this guy is a total hack -- a sterile cum stain on the legacy of rock music. His lyrics are little more than calculated come-ons. His guitar work is better tagged "easy listening" than "rock." I wouldn't even compare the creep to Christopher "Sailing" Cross. The dude even has an on-and-off-again relationship with Jessica Simpson, which makes her look like the idiot.

Still, this shaggy-haired frat boy has managed to fool critics into believing that he's brilliant. In February, Rolling Stone crowned Mayer the new "guitar god," proving that poor Jann is so painfully out of touch, he probably couldn't tell rock and roll from his own asshole.

Then, last month, Time named Mayer one of the "Most Influential People of 2007." Esquire didn't even bother to write an article on Mayer -- they just handed him a spot as a guest columnist.

Hopefully, by 2027 -- when Mayer's eligible for enshrinement -- people will come to their senses. But it's doubtful. Everyone compares Mayer to Eric Clapton. David Fricke, RS's most famous resident idiot, nicknamed him "Slowhand Jr."

At first, the reference is puzzling. Clapton's work for the Yardbirds was sturdy, his legacy with Cream astounding. But then you're reminded of "Tears in Heaven" and Babyface collaborations, and it all makes sense. Mayer is the watered-down version of watered-down Clapton. He's a MOR fan's dirtiest wet dream.

In fact, Mayer is probably the perfect pick for the Rock Hall in 2027. He's got all the skills of a rock god's waning solo career (see: Sting), and he's just getting started.

Kraftwerk
From booty-shakers and B-boys to hipsters and ravers, electronic dance music is inarguably the most popular musical form on the face of the Earth; rock and roll doesn't hold a candle. The halter-top hoochies down on 6th Street can thank Kraftwerk for that.

When the German band came along in 1970, it completely revolutionized the way music was made. Bridging the gap between rock and dance music, Kraftwerk was the first band to record using entirely electronic instruments, from drums and keyboards down to their computer-generated vocals.

The electro quartet is largely responsible for every genre from synth-pop and techno to house and industrial music. Even hip-hop was born when Afrika Bambaataa mixed two of their songs on 1982's "Planet Rock." Without Kraftwerk, there would be no Dre, Depeche Mode, Daft Punk, or Nine Inch Nails. Hell, there'd be no Britney or Xtina. Not even Madonna.