Tom Morello: 'Music can change the world', RATM Rock Hall of Fame induction - 2023

3 November 2023, Barclays Centre, Brooklyn, New York, USA

My name is Tom Morello, and I am one quarter of Rage Against the Machine. I am deeply grateful for the musical chemistry I've had the good fortune to share with Brad Wilk, Tom Commerford, and Zach de la Rocha. Like most bands, we have differing perspectives on a lot of things, including being inducted into the Rock Hall. My perspective is that tonight is a great opportunity to celebrate the music and the mission of the band—to celebrate the fifth member of the band, which is Rage Against the Machine's incredible fans. The only reason we are here and the best way to celebrate this music is for you to carry on that mission and that message.

The lesson I learn from Rage fans is that music can change the world. Daily, I hear from fans who have been affected by our music and in turn have affected the world in significant ways. Organizers, activists, public defenders, teachers, the presidents of Chile and Finland have all spent time in our mosh pit. When protest music is done right, you can hear a new world emerging in the songs skewering the oppressors of the day and hinting that there might be more to life than what was handed to us. Can music change the world? The whole aim is to change the world or at a bare minimum, to stir up a shit load of trouble.

When Rage started, we rehearsed deep in the San Fernando Valley. This guy passed by our place regularly and one day asked, what are you guys doing in there? We said, we're a band. He asked to hear us and we said, sure. He came in, sat down. This was the first guy to ever hear the music of Rage Against the Machine. We played him a couple songs. After we finished, we asked him what he thought. He paused, stood up and said, your music makes me wanna fight.

Throughout history, the spark of rebellion has come from unexpected quarters: authors, economists, carpenters. But as Salvador Allende said, ‘There is no revolution without songs.’ So who's to say what musicians might or might not be able to achieve with revolutionary intent when the bouncing crowd makes the Richter scale shake? Personally, I'd like to thank my wife Denise, and my kids who remind me daily that the world is worth fighting for.

And thanks to all the musicians and change makers who helped shape the band's collective vision. Rage has also been fortunate to have so many talented coworkers and co-conspirators who have believed in the band: from Michael Goldstone, the guy who signed us and insisted the first radio single be an unedited song featuring 17 cuss words, to the greatest guitar tech of all time, Slim Richardson. Thank you and thanks. And deep appreciation to the hundreds of others, from those who put up flyers to those who have moved mountains to amplify the message and the music. What I hear in the music is this: that the world is not going to change itself.

But throughout history, those who have changed the world in progressive, radical or even revolutionary ways did not have any more money, power, courage, intelligence or creativity than anyone watching tonight. The world's changed by average, everyday ordinary people who have had enough and are willing to stand up for a country and a planet that is more humane, peaceful and just, and that, and that is what I'm here to celebrate tonight. Fans often ask, ‘but what can I do?’ Well, let's start with these three things. One, dream big and don't settle. Two, aim for the world you really want without compromise or apology. And three, don't wait for us.

Rage is not here, but you are. The job we set out to do is not over. Now you’re the ones that must testify. If you've got a boss, join a union. If you're a student, start an underground paper. If you're an anarchist, throw a brick, if you're a soldier or a cop, follow your conscience, not your orders. If you're bummed out, you didn't get to see Rage Against the Machine, then form your own band and let's hear what you have to say. If you're a human being, stand up for your planet before it's too late.

So tomorrow, crank up some Rage and head out and confront injustice. Wherever it rears its ugly head, it's time to change the world, brothers and sisters, or at a bare minimum to stir up a shitload of trouble. And finally, a special thanks to my mom, Mary Morello, a retired public high school teacher, a proud Rage Against the Machine fan and a lifelong radical who turned 100 years old a couple of weeks ago. She's watching at home tonight, but she asked me to tell you this: History, like music, is not something that happens. It's something you make. Thank you very much.

George Harrison: 'It's what's left I'm afraid,' The Beatles induction into Rock and Roll Hall of Fame - 1988

20 January 1988, Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York, USA

I don’t have to say much because I’m the Quiet Beatle. It’s unfortunate Paul’s the one who’s not here because he’s the one who had the speech in his pocket.

We all know why John can’t be here, and I’m damn sure he would be. It’s hard really to stand here supposedly representing the Beatles. It’s what’s left I’m afraid. But we all loved him so much and we all love Paul very much.

I suppose basically the reason we became a band was [because] of all the other people in the Hall of Fame already, including Leadbelly because actually they stole his tunes and turned it into skiffle and we all became skifflers when we were 13.

We just wanted to get guitars, get in a band, because we didn’t really have proper jobs at the time. Anyway, it sort of turned out fine and it’s gotten a bit bigger than any of us expected. It’s certainly wonderful to be here and certainly a thrill. {Sgt Peppers nod]

Thank you very much, especially all the rock and rollers, especially Little Richard, it’s all his fault really.

Ringo: And don’t forget Muhammad Ali!

We won’t forget Muhammad Ali , he picked us up in Miami beach one day, Anyway, thank you all very much And on behalf of John I’m sure he’s well covered here with Yoko, Sean and Julian. Thank you all very much God bless.

Bruce Springsteen: 'They're keepers of some of the most beautiful sonic architecture in rock and roll', Induction U2 into Rock Hall of Fame - 2005

14 March 2005, Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York, USA

Uno, dos, tres, catorce. That translates as one, two, three, fourteen. That is the correct math for a rock and roll band. For in art and love and rock and roll, the whole had better equal much more than the sum of its parts, or else you're just rubbing two sticks together searching for fire. A great rock band searches for the same kind of combustible force that fueled the expansion of the universe after the big bang. You want the earth to shake and spit fire. You want the sky to split apart and for God to pour out.

It's embarrassing to want so much, and to expect so much from music, except sometimes it happens -- the Sun Sessions, Highway 61, Sgt. Peppers, the Band, Robert Johnson, Exile on Main Street, Born to Run -- whoops, I meant to leave that one out (laughter) -- the Sex Pistols, Aretha Franklin, the Clash, James Brown, the power of Public Enemy's "It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back". This is music meant to take on not only the powers that be, but on a good day, the universe and God himself -- if he was listening. It's man's accountability, and U2 belongs on this list.

It was the early '80s. I went with Pete Townsend, who always wanted to catch the first whiff of those about to unseat us, to a club in London. There they were: A young Bono -- single-handedly pioneering the Irish mullet; (laughter) the Edge -- what kind of name was that?; Adam and Larry. I was listening to the last band of whom I would be able to name all of its members. They had an exciting show and a big, beautiful sound. They lifted the roof.

We met afterwards and they were nice young men. They were Irish. Irish! Now, this would play an enormous part in their success in the States. For what the English occasionally have the refined sensibilities to overcome, we Irish and Italians have no such problem. We come through the door fists and hearts first. U2, with the dark, chiming sound of heaven at their command -- which, of course, is the sound of unrequited love and longing, their greatest theme -- their search for God intact. This was a band that wanted to lay claim to not only this world but had their eyes on the next one, too.

Now, they're a real band; each member plays a vital part. I believe they actually practice some form of democracy -- toxic poison in a band's head. In Iraq, maybe. In rock, no! Yet they survive. They have harnessed the time bomb that exists in the heart of every great rock and roll band that usually explodes, as we see regularly from this stage. But they seemed to have innately understood the primary rule of rock band job security: "Hey, asshole, the other guy is more important than you think he is!" They are both a step forward and direct descendants of the great bands who believed rock music could shake things up in the world, who dared to have faith in their audience, who believed if they played their best it would bring out the best in you. They believed in pop stardom and the big time. Now this requires foolishness and a calculating mind. It also requires a deeply held faith in the work you're doing and in its powers to transform. U2 hungered for it all, and built a sound, and they wrote the songs that demanded it. They're keepers of some of the most beautiful sonic architecture in rock and roll.

The Edge. The Edge. The Edge. The Edge. (applause) He is a rare and true guitar original and one of the subtlest guitar heroes of all time. He's dedicated to ensemble playing and he subsumes his guitar ego in the group. But do not be fooled. Take Jimi Hendrix, Chuck Berry, Neil Young, Pete Townshend -- guitarists who defined the sound of their band and their times. If you play like them, you sound like them. If you are playing those rhythmic two-note sustained fourths, drenched in echo, you are going to sound like the Edge, my son. Go back to the drawing board and chances are you won't have much luck. There are only a handful of guitar stylists who can create a world with their instruments, and he's one of them. The Edge's guitar playing creates enormous space and vast landscapes. It is a thrilling and a heartbreaking sound that hangs over you like the unsettled sky. In the turf it stakes out, it is inherently spiritual. It is grace and it is a gift.

Now, all of this has to be held down by something. The deep sureness of Adam Clayton's bass and the rhythms of Larry Mullen's elegant drumming hold the band down while propelling it forward. It's in U2's great rhythm section that the band finds its sexuality and its dangerousness. Listen to "Desire," "She Moves in Mysterious Ways," [sic] the pulse of "With or Without You." Together Larry and Adam create the element that suggests the ecstatic possibilities of that other kingdom -- the one below the earth and below the belt -- that no great rock band can lay claim to the title without.

Now Adam always strikes me as the professorial one, the sophisticated member. He creates not only the musical but physical stability on his side of the stage. The tone and depth of his bass playing has allowed the band to move from rock to dance music and beyond. One of the first things I noticed about U2 was that underneath the guitar and the bass, they have these very modern rhythms going on. Rather than a straight 2 and 4, Larry often plays with a lot of syncopation, and that connects the band to modern dance textures. The drums often sounded high and tight and he was swinging down there, and this gave the band a unique profile and allowed their rock textures to soar above on a bed of his rhythm.

Now Larry, of course, besides being an incredible drummer, bears the burden of being the band's requisite "good-looking member," (laughter) something we somehow overlooked in the E Street Band. (laughter) We have to settle for "charismatic." Girls love on Larry Mullen! I have a female assistant that would like to sit on Larry's drum stool. A male one, too. We all have our crosses to bear.

Bono...where do I begin? Jeans designer, soon-to-be World Bank operator, just plain operator, seller of the Brooklyn Bridge -- oh hold up, he played under the Brooklyn Bridge, that's right. Soon-to-be mastermind operator of the Bono burger franchise, where more than one million stories will be told by a crazy Irishman. Now I realize that it's a dirty job and somebody has to do it, but don't quit your day job yet, my friend. You're pretty good at it, and a sound this big needs somebody to ride herd over it.

And ride herd over it he does. His voice, big-hearted and open, thoroughly decent no matter how hard he tries. Now he's a great frontman. Against the odds, he is not your mom's standard skinny, ex-junkie archetype. He has the physique of a rugby player...well, an ex-rugby player. Shaman, shyster, one of the greatest and most endearingly naked messianic complexes in rock and roll. (laughter) God bless you, man! It takes one to know one, of course.

You see, every good Irish and Italian-Irish front man knows that before James Brown there was Jesus. So hold the McDonald arches on the stage set, boys, we are not ironists. We are creations of the heart and of the earth and of the stations of the cross -- there's no getting out of it. He is gifted with an operatic voice and a beautiful falsetto rare among strong rock singers. But most important, his is a voice shot through with self-doubt. That's what makes that big sound work. It is this element of Bono's talent -- along with his beautiful lyric writing -- that gives the often-celestial music of U2 its fragility and its realness. It is the questioning, the constant questioning in Bono's voice, where the band stakes its claim to its humanity and declares its commonality with us.

Now Bono's voice often sounds like it's shouting not over top of the band but from deep within it. "Here we are, Lord, this mess, in your image." He delivers all of this with great drama and an occasional smirk that says, "Kiss me, I'm Irish." He's one of the great front men of the past twenty years. He is also one of the only musicians to devote his personal faith and the ideals of his band into the real world in a way that remains true to rock's earliest implications of freedom and connection and the possibility of something better.

Now the band's beautiful songwriting -- "Pride (In The Name of Love)," "Sunday Bloody Sunday," "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," "One," "Where the Streets Have No Name," "Beautiful Day" -- reminds us of the stakes that the band always plays for. It's an incredible songbook. In their music you hear the spirituality as home and as quest. How do you find God unless he's in your heart? In your desire? In your feet? I believe this is a big part of what's kept their band together all of these years.

See, bands get formed by accident, but they don't survive by accident. It takes will, intent, a sense of shared purpose, and a tolerance for your friends' fallibilities...and they of yours. And that only evens the odds. U2 has not only evened the odds but they've beaten them by continuing to do their finest work and remaining at the top of their game and the charts for 25 years. I feel a great affinity for these guys as people as well as musicians.

Well...there I was sitting down on the couch in my pajamas with my eldest son. He was watching TV. I was doing one of my favorite things -- I was tallying up all the money I passed up in endorsements over the years (laughter) and thinking of all the fun I could have had with it. Suddenly I hear "Uno, dos, tres, catorce!" I look up. But instead of the silhouettes of the hippie wannabes bouncing around in the iPod commercial, I see my boys!

Oh, my God! They sold out!

Now...what I know about the iPod is this: It is a device that plays music. Of course their new song sounded great, my guys are doing great, but methinks I hear the footsteps of my old tape operator Jimmy Iovine somewhere. Wily. Smart. Now, personally, I live an insanely expensive lifestyle that my wife barely tolerates. I burn money, and that calls for huge amounts of cash flow. But I also have a ludicrous image of myself that keeps me from truly cashing in. (laughter) You can see my problem. Woe is me.

So the next morning, I call up Jon Landau -- or as I refer to him, "the American Paul McGuinness" -- and I say, "Did you see that iPod thing?" And he says, "Yes." And he says, "And I hear they didn't take any money." And I said, "They didn't take any money?!" And he says, "No." I said, "Smart, wily Irish guys." (laughter) Anybody...anybody...can do an ad and take the money. But to do the ad and not take the money...that's smart. That's wily. I say, "Jon, I want you to call up Bill Gates or whoever is behind this thing and float this: A red, white, and blue iPod signed by Bruce "the Boss" Springsteen. Now remember, no matter how much money he offers, don't take it!" (laughter)

At any rate...at any rate, after that evening, for the next month or so, I hear emanating from my lovely 14-year-old son's room, day after day, down the hall calling out in a voice that has recently dropped very low: Uno, dos, tres, catorce. The correct math for rock and roll. Thank you, boys.

(applause)

This band...this band has carried their faith in the great inspirational and resurrective power of rock and roll. It never faltered, only a little bit. They believed in themselves, but more importantly, they believed in "you, too." Thank you Bono, the Edge, Adam, and Larry. Please welcome U2 into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Joan Baez: 'My voice is my greatest gift'. Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction - 2017

7 April 2017, Barclay's Centre,. Brooklyn, New York, USA

It gives me enormous pleasure to accept this prestigious, and very cool award tonight. Thanks to the Hall of Fame for this somewhat unlikely induction. A special thank you to my manager, Mark Spector, for having kept my career visible, viable, and vibrant.

I'm aware that I'm speaking to many young people, who, without this induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame would have no clue who I am. [Laughter] My granddaughter had no clue who I was until I took her backstage at a Taylor Swift concert, where she got a selfie, an autograph, a T-shirt and a newfound respect for her grandmother. 

Though one can not say I am a rock & roll artist, one cannot overlook the folk music of the Sixties and the immense effect it had on popular music, including rock & roll. Nor can anyone overlook the role I played in that phenomenon. I was lucky enough to have found my voice when coffee shops were the order of the day. My first job in music was on Tuesday nights at Club 47 in Harvard Square where I sang three sets and made fifteen dollars a night, all as I gleefully flunked out of college. I owe my beginnings to the friends and folk artists from whom I picked up the chords, the melodies, the finger picking and a budding repertoire.

"To track Joan Baez's involvement in human rights and social justice is to chart the evolution of our own moral awakening," singer-songwriter says

Again, at the right place and time, I knew and was friends with most of the rock & roll idols of the Sixties and Seventies. Some of those friendships I treasure to this day. Most of us in the community of both folk and rock music share with each other the similarities and the differences of how we got to where we are today. We also share the awareness of the blessed and the bizarre, which accompanies us in our everyday lives, lives which are seldom really private. Once a friend said to me when I was recognized and approached by a fan on the street, "Oh come on, admit it. You really like that." I told her there was nothing to admit. It was a fact. My public is a kind of family.

I am beholden to those rock and rollers who are long gone, and those who live on who have enriched and brightened my life, from vinyl to digital and everything in between - and back to vinyl. [Laughter]

My childhood and teen years were filled with classical, country and western, rhythm and blues, and the Hit Parade. When I was 16 my aunt took me to a Pete Seeger concert. And my mom brought home a Harry Belafonte album. Though Pete was not in any way gorgeous like Harry, he was already committed to making social change. He paid a high price for holding fast to his principles. I learned the meaning of “taking a risk” from Pete. The Cold War was getting a foothold and ushered in a shameful period in this country.

My family was by then Quaker, and socially and politically active. Pete's influence on me took like a good vaccine, and I turned my attention to folk music and political activism.

My voice is my greatest gift. I can speak freely about the uniqueness of it precisely because it is just that: a gift.

The Sixties icon helped invent the idea of the protest singer – more than five decades later, she's still at it

The second greatest gift was the desire to use it the way I have since I was 16 and became a student of and practitioner of nonviolence, both in my personal life and as a way of fighting for social change. What has given my life deep meaning, and unending pleasure, has been to use my voice in the battle against injustice. It has brought me in touch with my own purpose. It has also brought me in touch with people of every background. With open, generous, fun loving, hardworking people, here in this country and around the world. It has brought me in touch with the wealthy, the ones who are stuck in selfishness, and the ones who give generously of their time and resources to benefit the less fortunate, and light the way for others to do the same.

And I've met and tried to walk in the shoes of those who are hungry, thirsty, cold and cast out, people imprisoned for their beliefs, and others who have broken the law, paid the price, and now live in hopelessness and despair. Of exonerated prisoners who have spent decades in solitary confinement, awaiting execution. Of exhausted refugees, immigrants, the excluded and the bullied. Those who have fought for this country, sacrificed, and now live in the shadows of rejection. People of color, the old, the ill, the physically challenged, the LGBTQ community.

And now, in the new political and cultural reality in which we find ourselves, there is much work to be done.

Where empathy is failing and sharing has been usurped by greed and the lust for power, let us double, triple, and quadruple our own efforts to empathize and to give of our resources and our selves. Let us together repeal and replace brutality, and make compassion a priority. Together let us build a great bridge, a beautiful bridge to once again welcome the tired and the poor, and we will pay for that bridge with our commitment. We the people must speak truth to power, and be ready to make sacrifices. We the people are the only one who can create change. I am ready. I hope you are, too. I want my granddaughter to know that I fought against an evil tide, and had the masses by my side.

When all of these things are accompanied by music, music of every genre, the fight for a better world, one brave step at a time, becomes not just bearable, but possible, and beautiful.

Thank you again.

Tom Morello: - 'Kiss was never a critics’ band, Kiss was a people’s band', Hall of Fame induction - 2014

10 April 2014, Barclay's Center, Brooklyn,. USA

Good evening, I'm Tom Morello.

They are four of the most recognizable faces on the planet, and one of the most iconic and badass bands of all time—tonight is the night that Kiss enters the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Growing up, Kiss was my favorite band—and it was not easy being a Kiss fan. Just as Kiss were relentlessly persecuted by critics, their fans were relentlessly persecuted by the self appointed arbiters of taste in middle schools and high schools across America. Arguments and even fistfights were not uncommon. I recall as a 15-year-old telling one bully, "You can kiss my Kiss-loving ass!" because Kiss was never a critics’ band, Kiss was a PEOPLE’s band. And so I waited in a long line on a bitter cold Chicago morning to buy a ticket for my first concert, a Kiss concert. I was especially thrilled because imprinted on the ticket were words that hinted that it was going to be a special event. The ticket said "A partial view of Kiss." I was certain this meant the band were going to reveal some new secret corner of their artistic souls. In reality it meant that my seat was behind a pole. Still, that concert was the most exciting, cathartic, loudest and most thrilling two hours of live music I’ve seen to this day.

While there is a often debate about who should and shouldn’t be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, I think the criteria are actually quite simple: IMPACT, INFLUENCE and AWESOMENESS. Kiss have all three in spades.

Impact? Kiss have sold over 100 million albums worldwide. They have 28 gold albums in the United States alone. That’s more than any other American rock band in history. Their theatrics were indisputably groundbreaking, but it was Kiss' MUSIC that had an impact on ME. All four guys wrote great songs. All four guys were great LEAD singers. They practically invented the live album with Kiss Alive!. Then came Destroyer, Rock and Roll Over, Love Gun, Alive II, Dynasty, all exploding with killer riffs, anthemic choruses and screaming solos that for 40 years have been filling arenas and stadiums around the world.

Influence? Simply put, Kiss is the band that made me and millions of others love rock and roll. What Elvis and the Beatles were to previous generations, Kiss were to us. They propelled millions of young people to pick up instruments. Their influence is everywhere. From Metallica to Lady Gaga, Kiss have inspired thousands of artists of diverse genres, some of whom may be on a Hall of Fame trajectory themselves. They’ve been a formative influence on members of Tool, Pearl Jam, Alice In Chains, Slipknot, Garth Brooks, Pantera, Foo Fighters, Motley Crue, Lenny Kravitz, White Zombie, Soundgarden, Nine Inch Nails…and Rage Against The Machine, to name just a few.

Ok. Impact? Check. Influence? Check. And the final criteria? Awesomeness. There’s a simple test for that. What if you had never seen or heard Kiss before? What if you had never heard a note of their music, never viewed a YouTube clip, never seen a reality show featuring any of the members? And what if you wandered into a divey club in your hometown and saw Kiss in all their glory thrashing the place to the ground? One guy belching fire and spraying blood past his gargantuan tongue. A drum riser bursting through the roof. A guitar player so incredible his axe billowed smoke and shot rockets. A frontman flying back and forth across the joint like a superhero Tarzan. All of them in frightening horror movie/comic book superstar, sexifying kabuki make up. All of them in black and silver warrior bondage gear and 7 inch platform heels. The place blowing up with explosions, screeching with sirens, raining confetti, all to the pounding soundtrack of bareknuckle badass heavy duty liberating rock and roll. What would you say if you saw THAT? You’d say, "That band’s fucking AWESOME and deserves to be in the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame!!" That’s what you’d say.

Eric Carr, Vinnie Vincent, Mark St. John, Bruce Kulick, Eric Singer and Tommy Thayer have all been important in extending and expanding Kiss' impressive legacy and they deserve a round of applause. But tonight we honor the fearsome foursome; the four original, founding members of Kiss. The Demon, Gene Simmons—he’s the God of Thunder, he’s Dr. Love. He’s Beatles-like bass on the bottom, a bat lizard Bela Lugosi on the top. The Starchild, Paul Stanley—the heart throb ringmaster of Kiss’ Psycho Circus. His vision, talent and dedication over four decades have made Kiss the band it is today. The Space Man, Ace Frehley—my first guitar hero. He designed the band’s iconic logo and blazed unforgettable, timeless licks across their greatest records. And The Cat, Peter Criss—jungle rhythms, jazz fills, and the writer and singer of the band’s biggest hit, the world’s first power ballad, "Beth." Tonight we also honor the fifth member of the band without whom this night could never have happened. Tonight we honor The Kiss Army, generations of fiercely loyal fans who are celebrating this long overdue induction all over the planet tonight.

Tonight proves, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that the high school bullies and the critics were mistaken. We Kiss fans were right. So let’s celebrate.

I misspoke earlier when I said that tonight Kiss enters the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame. That’s ALMOST right. Because tonight…it’s not the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Tonight it’s the Rock and Roll All Night And Party Every Day Hall of Fame. And so without further ado…Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Ace Frehley, Peter Criss.

You wanted the best and you got the best, the hottest band in the world…Kiss.

David Letterman: 'It turned out that these guys in Pearl Jam were something more than a band', for Pearl Jam, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame - 2017

7 April 2017, Barclays Centre, Brooklyn, New York, USA

Thank you. That's very kind of you. I can't even begin to tell you what an honor and a privilege it is to be out of the house. I know Neil Young was supposed to be here. People are looking at me like I had something to do with it. Why isn't Neil Young here? The truth of it is the poor guy just can't stay up this late. That's what it is. Either that or he swallowed a harmonica. I'm not sure.

I'm so excited and you people know this but for 33 years every night I got to experience the blessing of live music. For 33 years. From the people in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and people who will be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and then for two years that went away. CBS caught me using a copier and fired me.

When I came here to rehearsal and heard live music again I was reminded, oh my God what a gift live music is. I know all of these people and my band and Paul Shaffer were tremendous. Never take the opportunity for live music for granted and that's the message I can bring you folks tonight. It's a delight to be back here for this. By the way I've known Neil Young for many, many years. We met a long time ago on farmersonly.com. In 1988 is when I first met most of the people involved in Pearl Jam who were all in a band called Mother Love Bone. [Applause]

Then, in 1991 things in the world of musical culture changed with an album entitled Ten. It was like a chinook coming out of the Pacific Northwest. It had an anger to it and it appealed to twenty-something people who felt displaced and unemployed and left out. I was almost 50 and even I was pissed off and it was also easy to dance to but that's another deal.

Then, it turned out that these guys in Pearl Jam were something more than a band. They're true living cultural organisms. They would recognize injustice and they would stand up for it. Whether it was human rights or the environment. Whether it was poverty. They didn't let it wash over them. They would stand up and react.

In 1994, these young men risked their careers by going after those beady-eyed, blood-thirsty weasels. I'm just enjoying saying that. And because they did, because they stood up to the corporations I'm happy to say, ladies and gentleman, today every concert ticket in the United States of America is free. As I've got to know these gentlemen, they are very generous in spirit. As a matter of fact, listen to this, tonight the entire balcony is full of former Pearl Jam drummers. Stand up.

I wanted to say a couple of things about the music of this group. The nice thing about knowing them for as long as I've known them, I know them as friends as well as cultural icons. And I would just like to say one day I hope to come back here for the induction for my friend Warren Zevon.

Now, I'm going to start reading a list of the songs and you're going to start applauding and we won't get out of here until Sunday so: "Jeremy," "Corduroy." Now, here's one I like, the song, "Yellow Ledbetter." It doesn't make Ten because they have too much good material, they decide we don't want to put this song on there with all of this other really good material. So, later it's released, as like, a B-side. Twenty-five years, it's an anthem. It's a musical icon. For a lot of people, that song would be a career. "Sirens," "Given to Fly," "Kung Fu Fighting."

These guys, I used to have a television show, they were on my show 10 different times over the years. Every time they were there, they would blow the roof off the place and I'm not talking figuratively. They actually blew the roof off the place. For two years I did a show without a roof over the goddamn theater.

You know the song "Black." There was a period in my life when I couldn't stop doing this *mimics song* Great. Now we owe them a lot of money. Honest to God that's all I could hear running through my head. I kept wondering how many times does this refrain occur in the song. I finally had to go to my hypnotist to get it to stop *mimics song again.* One night on the show I'm doing it and the stage door bursts open, in walks Eddie Vedder, he sings the song with Paul and the band. Then he comes over to me and looks me right in the eye and he says, "Stop doing that." And I was cured, ladies and gentlemen.

I want to tell you a story that I'm very fond of. It's about friendship with a guy who has done something for me that I'll remember my entire life. I had three shows left to go and Eddie Vedder was on that show and he sang "Better Man." I like to tell myself it's because it rhymed with Letterman. There was something emotional in the air because as the show wound down the realization that we were saying goodbye, as I said before the experience that I miss most is the experience of live music every night. But that was in the air. It was palpable.

At the end of the show, Eddie Vedder came up to me, he handed me this, and I don't know if you can see that but that's the name of my son. He gave me this letter and said, "This letter, it's for your son I want you to give it to Harry." I think we have a picture of my son, Harry. [Shows picture of young boy smoking a cigarette from his old show.] Look at that, we've had him at all the best clinics taking a gap year in middle school.

So, if you're in show business it's likely there's a good strong streak of cynicism in you, and I would be the president of that club except for things like this. This letter to my son from Eddie Vedder made me keep 2015, three shows left. I'll read you this letter now if you don't mind.

"Hi, Harry. My name is Eddie Vedder and I'm a friend of your dad's. I wanted you to have this small guitar to start with. Try it out, make a little noise, I'll make you a deal. If you learn even one song on this guitar I'll get you a nicer, bigger one for your birthday. Maybe an electric one. You let me know." And my son loves to fish, Eddie adds here, "Playing guitar is kind of like fishing. Fishing for songs. Good luck, Harry, in all things. Yours truly."

It turns out that my son does play a string instrument, but it's the violin – close enough. There are quite a few reasons why these people are in the Hall of Fame, but forgive me if this personally is the most important reason.

Bruce Springsteen: 'We struggled together, and sometimes, we struggled with one another', E-Street Band Hall of Fame - 2014

4 October 2014, Barclays Center, Brooklyn, New York, USA

Good evening. In the beginning, there was Mad Dog Vini Lopez, standing in front of me, fresh out of jail, his head shaved, in the Mermaid Room of the Upstage Club in Asbury Park. He told me he had a money-making outfit called Speed Limit 25, they were looking for a guitarist and was I interested? I was broke, so I was. So the genesis point of the E Street Band was actually a group that Vini Lopez asked me to join to make a few extra dollars on the weekend.

Shortly thereafter, I met Dan Federici. He was draped in three quarter-length leather, had his red hair slicked back with his wife Flo — she was decked out in the blonde, bouffant wig — and they were straight out of Flemington, NJ.

So Vini, Danny, myself, along with bass player Vinnie Roslin, were shortly woodshedding out of a cottage on the main street of a lobster-fishing town: Highlands, NJ. We first saw Garry Tallent along with Southside Johnny when they dragged two chairs onto an empty dance floor as I plugged my guitar into the upstage wall of sound. I was the new kid in a new town, and these were the guys who owned the place. They sat back and looked at me like, "Come on, come on, punk. Bring it. Let’s see what you got." And I reached back and I burnt their house down.

Garry Tallent’s great bass-playing and Southern gentleman’s presence has anchored my band for 40 years. Thank you, Garry! Thank you, sir.

Then one night, I wandered in the Upstage, and I was dumbstruck by a baby-faced, 16-year-old David Sancious. Davey was very, very unusual: He was a young, black man who — in 1968, Asbury Park, which was not a peaceful place — crossed the tracks in search of musical adventure, and he blessed us with his talent and his love. He was my roomie in the early, two-guys-to-one-six-dollar-motel-room years of the E Street Band. He was good, he kept his socks clean; it was lovely. And he was carrying around a snake around his neck at that time, so I lucked out with Davey as my roommate. [laughs] AND, Davey’s the only member of the group who ever actually lived on E Street!

So I walked in and he was on the club’s organ. And Davey’s reserved now, but at the time, he danced like Sly Stone and he played like Booker T, and he poured out blues and soul and jazz and gospel and rock & roll and he had things in his keyboard that we just never heard before. It was just so full of soul and so beautiful. Davey, we love you, and we still miss you so, you know?

But predating all of this was Steve Van Zandt. Steven: frontman, hitman. I walk into the Middletown Hullabaloo Club; he was the frontman for a band called the Shadows. He had on a tie that went from here down to his feet. All I remember is that he was singing the Turtles’ "Happy Together." During a break at the Hullabaloo Club in New Jersey, he played 55 minutes on and five minutes off, and if there was a fight, he had to rush onstage and start playing again.

So I met Stevie there and he soon became my bass player first, then lead guitarist. My consigliere, my dependable devil’s advocate whenever I need one. The invaluable ears for everything that I create, I always get ahold of him, and fan number one. So he’s my comic foil onstage, my fellow producer/arranger and my blood, blood, blood, blood, blood brother. Let’s keep rolling for as many lives as they’ll give us, alright?

Years and bands went by: Child, Steel Mill, the Bruce Springsteen Band — they were all some combo of the above-mentioned gang. Then I scored a solo recording contract with Columbia Records, and I argued to get to choose my recording "sidemen," which was a misnomer, in this case, if there ever was one.

So, I chose my band and my great friends, and we finally landed on E Street — the rare, rock & roll hybrid of solo artistry and a true rock & roll band.

But one big thing was missing ... It was a dark and stormy night, a Nor’easter rattled the street lamps on Kingsley Blvd. and in walked Clarence Clemons. I’d been enthralled by the sax sounds of King Curtis and I searched for years for a great rock & roll saxophonist. And that night Clarence walked in, walked towards the stage and he rose, towering to my right on the Prince’s tiny stage, about the size of this podium, and then he unleashed the force of nature that was the sound and the soul of the Big Man. In that moment, I knew that my life had changed. Miss you, love you Big Man. Wish that he was with us tonight. This would mean a great, great deal to Clarence.

An honorable mention and shout-out to Ernie "Boom" Carter. The drummer who played on one song only: "Born to Run." He picked a good one. So here’s to you, Ernie. Thank you, thank you.

Thanks, of course, Max Weinberg and Roy Bittan, who answered an ad in the Village Voice. And they beat out 60 other drummers and keyboardists for the job. It was the indefatigable, almost dangerously dedicated Mighty Max Weinberg and the fabulous five finger of Professor Roy Bittan. They refined and they defined the sounds of the E Street Band that remains our calling card around the world to this day. Thank you, Roy. Thank you, Max. They are my professional hitmen. I love them both.

Then, 10 years later, Nils Lofgren and Patti Scialfa joined just in time to assist us in the rebirth of Born in the U.S.A. Nils, one of the world’s great, great rock guitarists, with a choir boy’s voice, has given me everything he’s had for the past 30 years. Thank you, Nils. So much love.

And Patti Scialfa — a Jersey Girl — who came down one weekend from New York City and sat in with a local band, Cats on a Smooth Surface and Bobby Bandiera at the Stone Pony, where she sang a killer version of the Exciters’ "Tell 'Em." She had a voice that was full of a little Ronnie Spector, a little Dusty Springfield and a lot of something that was her very, very own. After she was done, I walked up, I introduced myself at the back bar, we grabbed a couple of stools and we sat there for the next hour or thirty years or so — talking about music and everything else. So we added my lovely red-headed woman and she broke the boy’s club!

Now, I wanted our band to mirror our audience, and by 1984, that band had grown men and grown women. But, her entrance freaked us out so much that opening night of the Born in the U.S.A. tour, I asked her to come into my dressing room and see what she was gonna wear! So she had on kind of a slightly feminine T-shirt and I stood there, sort of sweating. At my feet, I had a little Samsonite luggage bag that I carried with me, and I kicked it over. It was full of all my smelly, sweaty T-shirts and I said, "Just pick one of these, it’ll be fine." She’s not wearing one tonight. But Patti, I love you, thank you for your beautiful voice, you changed my band and my life. Thank you for our beautiful children.

So, real bands — real bands are made primarily from the neighborhood. From a real time and real place that exists for a little while, then changes and is gone forever. They’re made from the same circumstances, the same needs, the same hungers, culture. They’re forged in the search of something more promising than what you were born into. These are the elements, the tools, and these are the people who built the place called E Street.

Now, E Street was a dance; was an idea; was a wish; was a refuge; was a home; was a destination; was a gutter dream; and finally, it was a band. We struggled together, and sometimes, we struggled with one another. We bathed in the glory, and often, the heartbreaking confusion of our rewards together. We’ve enjoyed health, and we’ve suffered illness and aging and death together. We took care of one another when trouble knocked, and we hurt one another in big and small ways.

But in the end, we kept faith in each other. And one thing is for certain: As I said before in reference to Clarence Clemons — I told a story with the E Street Band that was, and is, bigger than I ever could have told on my own. And I believe that settles that question.

But that is the hallmark of a rock and roll band — the narrative you tell together is bigger than anyone could have told on your own. That’s the Rolling Stones; the Sex Pistols; that’s Bob Marley and the Wailers. That’s James Brown and His Famous Flames. That’s Neil Young and Crazy Horse.

So, I thank you my beautiful men and women of E Street. You made me dream and love bigger than I could have ever without you. And tonight I stand here with just one regret: that Danny and Clarence couldn’t be with us here tonight.

Sixteen years ago, a few days before my own induction, I stood in my darkened kitchen along with Steve Van Zandt. Steve was just returning to the band after a 15-year hiatus and he was petitioning me to push the Hall of Fame to induct all of us together. I listened, and the Hall of Fame had its rules, and I was proud of my independence. We hadn’t played together in 10 years, we were somewhat estranged, we were just taking the first small steps over reforming. We didn’t know what the future would bring. And perhaps the shadows of some of the old grudges held some sway.

It was a conundrum, as we’ve never quite been fish nor fowl. And Steve was quiet, but persistent. And at the end of our conversation, he just said, "Yeah, I understand. But Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band — that’s the legend."

So I’m proud to induct, into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, hard-rocking, booty-shaking, love-making, earth-quaking, Viagra-taking, justifying, death-defying, legendary E Street Band.

Steve Miller: 'No we’re not going to wrap this one up. I’m gonna wrap you up', Rock and Roll Hall of Fame press room - 2016

8 April 2016, Barclays Center, Brooklyn, New York City, USA

The whole process needs to be changed, from the top to the bottom.

It doesn’t need to be this hard.

There’s nothing fancy going on out there that requires all of this stuff.

They need to get their legal work straight. They need to respect the artists they say they’re honouring, which they don’t. I don’t have any of my paperwork as signed, I have no licencing agreements with these people. They’re trying to steal footage. They’re trying to make me indemnify them. When they told me I was inducted, they said, “you can have two tickets, one for your wife and one for yourself. Want another one? It’s $10,000, that’s the way it goes”

I said, “I’m playing here, what about my band? What about their wives? They make this so unpleasant, that they came this close ...

[offstage mutterings]

No we’re not going to wrap this one up. I’m gonna wrap you up.  You go sit down over there and learn something.  So here’s what you need to know. This is how close this whole show came to not happening because of the way the artists were actually being treated right now.

So I’ll wrap it up right now.

Kid Rock: 'They were exactly what we needed, a garage band in sheep's clothing', for Cheap Trick - 2016

8 April 2016, Barclays Center, Brooklyn, New York City, USA

Has anyone been keeping tabs on what the fuck has been going on here tonight? Quick recap in my mind ... Who knew Lars Ulrich, the fucking drummer from Metallica, was such a great speaker? Right? Awesome. Then we've got Ice Cube telling people to stay in school and then the drummer from Chicago turns out to be the fucking badass: "Fuck the establishment! I'll do what I want!" As long as we're keeping it real, I'd like to really quickly address the issue of drugs in America. If you do drugs, kids, there's a good chance you're going to ruin your life.

But there's also a pretty good fucking chance you'll end up in a band and be rich and bang hot chicks.  Here's a little secret about bands: We all think we're great live. There's not a band in this room or in the world that doesn't think it's really a live band. You think you can rip the roof off of any room. You think you can make a basement club feel like the Garden. And you think you do it better than anyone else. Then you go and see Cheap Trick.

That's when you think, "Man, we kind of suck. I gotta to step up my game." They're a club band, a bar band, a working band, every sense of those words. They're relentless, precise, powerful. If she's tight, they're tighter. 

It's a little innuendo. ... When disco and soft rock had taken over our radio – thank God I wasn't alive then – they were exactly what we needed, a garage band in sheep's clothing. They had a punk soul, a pop heartbeat and Beatles ambitions. They even worked with George Martin. And he said Cheap Trick was his favorite band to work with that wasn't from Liverpool. I didn't write that line. You can't not watch them. Their frontman is a matinee idol who can growl, croon or swagger. And the guitarist looks like a Teddy Boy on acid. ...

They were always onstage, every throwaway gig, every photo shoot, every interview. They worked the room like it was Soldier Field. ...

Cheap Trick was so big, so loud, so fast that it took a live album to catch the fury. "Surrender," "I Want You to Want Me." These are great songs, but live, they became anthems. It took us a while to figure it out. They were made in the USA, but Japan caught on before we did. A lot of bands think, "We're big in Japan." I'm fucking big in Kentucky. But Cheap Trick is the only one they call the American Beatles. After that, the world exploded for them. It look like success came out of nowhere, but trust me, they worked for it. Of course they did. They've got Midwestern heart.  

They've got Illinois shoulders. That's why ... more than 40 years later, 40 fucking years, and more than 5,000 gigs, they're still going strong. They've been on the road. They've been knocked down, but they've never stopped and they're still out there racking up the miles and playing every show like it's their first. You don't think so? These crazy fucks got three more gigs this week.  

Recycling shit, I'm not that great. I'm a rapper – I sample.  Maybe it's that Midwestern work ethic and maybe it's because as they put it, "We're too dumb to quit." Either way, we're glad they put in the hours. So I'm honored to induct, from Rockford, Illinois …

 

Tom Waits: 'Songs are really just interesting things to be doing with the air', Rock and roll Hall of Fame induction - 2011

14 March 2011, Waldorf Astoria, New York City, USA

I just want to know if there’s a keychain version that I can keep with me just in case I hear someone say, “Pete, take the cuffs off. I think he’s a Hall of Famer.” Thank you for the kind words, Neil. I’m honored to be honored. And, gee, I don’t know where to begin. Songs, uh, are really just interesting things to be doing with the air. I love working with tunes. I love music, but we really want music to love us. Neil was saying the other night, he said, “When there’s a song approaching it’s kind of like there’s an animal in the room, and you don’t want it to run off.” You know, how did it get in?

I was, uh, fifteen and I snuck in to see Lightnin’ Hopkins. I put white-out in my hair and I drew on a mustache and I put on an overcoat and I stood there and I said, “Ticket for one.” Amazing show. Every time he opened his mouth, that orchestra of gold teeth was just devastating. And then I saw him leave the show and he walked through a door and slammed the door behind him. And on the door, it said, I swear to God, “KEEP OUT. THIS ROOM IS FOR ENTERTAINERS ONLY.” And I knew at that moment that I had to get into show business as soon as possible. So, uh, that was a real big one for me. And I’ve had the pleasure and the privilege of playing with a lot of great musicians over the years. Some of you are here and some of you are not here. Some of us are on the wrong side of the dirt, as they say. But any day on this side of the dirt is a good day, for me and for all of us.

Let’s see, what else? They told me I should talk for quite a while, but I don’t intend to. I fully do not intend to. I’d like to thank my family. They know me and they love me anyway. My wife and her incandescent light that has guided me and kept me alive and breathing and sparkling. And my kids who, well, they taught me everything I know. Or maybe they taught me everything they know. I don’t know. They taught me a lot.

Okay, I did the bit about the door and the club. Um, the first time I went onstage, my face felt like it was made of plaster and if I smiled, it would crack off, and I thought, “This is such an interesting [Christian?] experience” and somehow wanted more of it. They say I have no hits and I’m difficult to work with, and they say that like it’s a bad thing. [crowd cheers] The only thing I really can compare this to is I was given the key to the city of El Paso several months ago. It was a really kind offer. They told me there’s only one key to the city, but I found out later there were a whole lot of them, and they fit nothing. So, I’m just hoping there are some fringe benefits that go along with this baby. Thank you very much. This has been very encouraging.