And their performance was a rousing show of what the RaRHoF so casually monetizes. In a world of Sabbaths without Ward, Roses without Stradlin (not to mention Whites without Russell and Ryches without Tate), Cheap Trick put it all aside and did what needed to be done . . . with Carlos doing what the fans who care wanted all along:
Even Kid Rock’s introduction suggests that his calculated swagger is, at heart, a tribute to bands that rocked his world when he was but a youth:
The RaRHoF is, at best, a museum that deserves a visit. The RaRHoF is, at worst, a horrid example of why the music we love doesn’t garner the support it so clearly deserves. But to see Cheap Trick accepting their awards so graciously, and then seeing them playing so wonderfully, reminds me of an important truth: music that counts is made for the fans even if it is made by artists. Cheap Trick are both: fans and artists. Long live music.