Rock'N'Roll Hall of Fame 2025 Nominees

Alt-rock finally dominates classic rock on a ballot that contains plenty of respectable choices and one outright absurdity.

It's finally happened: the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame has nominated more Gen-Xers than Boomers .

Scanning this year's list of 14 nominees, it's striking how few artists are classic rock staples. Just two, actually: Bad Company and maybe Joe Cocker, who took a pretty sharp turn into easy listening by the time album-rock radio began its ascent in the mid-1970s. The rest of the rockers were all raised on radio pumping out AOR standards and Top 40, either absorbing its vernacular or developing a language to speak in opposition.

These nominees are weighted heavily to produce a class that would've felt right at home as a Lollapalooza bill; even Billy Idol and Cyndi Lauper feel like new wave throwbacks that would've played in the middle of the day somewhere in the mid-90s. This turning of the page is frankly overdue. It's been thirty years since the heyday of alt-rock and the golden age of hip-hop, so the Hall should be sending up nominees that had yet to start their recording career when the institution inducted its first class in 1986.

Not that these 14 nominees are without flaw. There is only one hip-hop act and only four women, a notable shift after several years of the nominating committee carefully balancing genres. That's by design: this year seems to be the alt-rock equivalent of 2016, when the Hall inducted a bunch of '70s AOR stalwarts in one fell swoop.

While I wish there was more diversity on the ballot, I'm generally fond of most of the nominees. That hasn't always been the case over the last few years, a period of time which has included a handful of acts whose inductions baffle me. The odds are good that this class of 2025 will be a respectable, slightly unexciting, collection of rockers. The only way this could go wrong is if somehow Chubby Checker gets a nod.

Here are my quick takes on the 14 nominees, gauging their artistic merits and whether they're likely to make the cut. This year, Rock Hall voters—and I still belong to that class—get to pick seven nominees. In the past, I've stopped at five votes but this year, I did indeed vote for seven artists.

Bad Company

The platonic ideal of a hard rock band, Bad Company created a handful of enduring anthems. Most of those songs can be found on their first two albums, although "Rock 'N' Roll Fantasy"—one of their many songs about rock'n'roll—popped up on Desolation Angels, the 1979 LP that was their last big hit before their split in the early '80s. When they mounted a comeback a few years later, it was without singer Paul Rodgers. The name was enough to keep them on rock radio into the early '90s but those latter-day records are a slog, their presence tainting the merits of six albums released on Swan Song. Catch me in the wrong mood and those LPs can also seem a bit plodding to my ears, or perhaps just overly familiar; it's rare that I want to hear "Bad Company," "Can't Get Enough" or "Feel Like Makin' Love" on my own volition. Still, Rodgers is a consummate rock vocalist and if Bad Company gets in, I'll take some consolation that guitarist Mick Ralphs will become a Hall member since there's no chance that Mott the Hoople will ever make it to a Rock Hall ballot.

The Black Crowes

I've seen some griping this morning that the Black Crowes are retro-rock bores, stepping into a slot previously occupied by Lenny Kravitz. I disagree. The Crowes are surely classicists, blending British blues-rock with all stripes of Southern rock, but they're not dull. The Brothers Robinson are sharp songwriters with a combustible chemistry, qualities that came into focus on 1992's The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion and remain readily apparent in last year's strong comeback album Happiness Bastards. In the thirty years separating the two records, the Black Crowes had lows—and sadly lost founding drummer Steve Gorman—and plenty of highs, assembling a remarkably enduring body of work. I can't quite claim that the Crowes are innovators but they're something I prize: they have a personality that shines through on each of their records

Mariah Carey

Mariah Carey helped shape the sound of modern pop music, shepherding the R&B-pop-rap hybrid that defined the Top 40 for decades while also serving as the avatar of American Idol showboating. Mariah didn't make the cut last year but the deck is stacked in favor of Carey's induction this year: there are no competing divas, no competing pop stars whatsoever. If she doesn't get the nod this year, she simply doesn't have popular support among the voters.

Chubby Checker

Yes, Chubby Checker's version of "The Twist" is one of the biggest hits of its era but it's already been inducted into the Rock Hall as part of the institution's short-lived Singles category. That's enough of an honor for Checker, a professional mimic who got lucky when his imitation of Hank Ballard became a national sensation thanks to Dick Clark's support on American Bandstand. Always eager to chase a fad, Checker wound up having several other hits—way more than most "one hit wonders"—landing his last Top 40 hit in 1965 when he tried to ride the coattails of Freddie & the Dreamers with "Let's Do the Freddie." That single crystalized Checker's great skill of making cheapo exploitation records seem dreary; he even fumbled the layup of "Back in the U.S.S.R." on an overheated single for Buddha in 1969. In search of something fun or fizzy in his catalog this morning, I gave Chequered!, his 1971 excursion into alleged psychedelia—every pre-Beatles rocker has at least one in their catalog—a spin and that's also awful: bubblegum Hendrix undone by Chubby's goofy chortle and square songwriting ("Stoned in the Bathroom on a Sunday afternoon/Stoned in the bathroom, just sitting on the moon."). It's absurd that he gets the chance at induction and the Monkees have yet to make it to a Rock Hall ballot.

Joe Cocker

Joe Cocker's appearance at Woodstock—and the subsequent parody by John Belushi—along with the raucous live album Mad Dogs and Englishmen gives the impression that the British blue-eyed soul singer was more of a rocker than he actually was. Once he parted ways with Leon Russell, Cocker raced toward the middle of the road, recording a pair of adult contemporary standards in "You Are So Beautiful" and the Jennifer Warnes duet "Up Where We Belong." Cocker often acquitted himself well in these smooth settings—I have a soft spot for "When the Night Comes"—but there's so many of these slick records, they wind up diluting his discography and impact.

Billy Idol

Billy Idol has been consciously playing a caricature of a rock star ever since leaving Generation X, luckily adopting his signature sneer just as MTV was on the rise. His sharp pop sense made him crossover into the American Top Ten numerous times in the 1980s and his best singles—for my money, the early ones "Dancing with Myself," "White Wedding," "Rebel Yell," and "Eyes Without a Face"—still pack a punch. Nevertheless, I can't shake the impression of how corny Rebel Yell seemed when I spent time with its reissue last year…but maybe that's the key to his charm.

Joy Division/New Order

The nominating committee is angling to get Joy Division and New Order into the Hall under the the Small Faces/Faces rule: they're two distinct bands with similar membership, neither of which would get in if it wasn't a package deal. They clearly deserve it, either on their own or as a package deal.

Cyndi Lauper

Another time on the ballot for Cyndi Lauper, who previously didn't make the cut in 2023. The scarcity of women on this ballot could increase her odds. I find some of her latter-day work patchy but there's no denying that she deserves the nod for She's So Unusual alone.

Maná

Kudos to the Hall for finally rock en español Mexican music by nominating this long-running act, knowing full well there isn't a chance in hell they'll garner many votes.

Oasis

Last year, Oasis was the first name I marked on my ballot. This year, they were the first box I clicked on the electronic ballot. I went long on my love of this band when they announced their reunion a few months ago, so I won't repeat myself. I will say that I bet their odds of induction have risen considerably in the wake of their reunion. I also say for maximum headlines, get Damon Albarn to induct the Brothers Gallagher into the Hall.

Outkast

Eligible since 2019, Outkast finally made the ballot this year (I could've sworn they made the cut another year). They're the only hip-hop act on the ballot in 2025, so that makes their chances of induction quite good—in fact, I'd be shocked if they didn't make it in. Then again, it did take the Hall three rounds before they inducted A Tribe Called Quest.

Phish

Say what you will about the music: there's no denying that modern Jam Band culture simply would not exist if it wasn't for Phish. They helped create and cultivate a circuit, all while taking pains to remain creatively vital. By that metric alone, Phish deserves induction.

Soundgarden

Third time may indeed be a charm for the Seattle stalwarts although they oddly may be hurt by how this year's ballot is dominated by fellow alt-rockers.

The White Stripes

I've long thought that the White Stripes are essentially the end of the road as far as modern rock is concerned at the Hall, so I was surprised they didn't get in the first time they made the ballot in 2023. They probably stand a better shot this year thanks to the acclaim Jack White received for last year's cracking No Name.