The nominating committee of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame has announced its finalists for induction in 2014, and leading the list of sixteen is Nirvana, represented now by its two surviving members, the bassist Krist Novoselic and the then-drummer Dave Grohl (and, if you count “Sirvana,” Sir Paul McCartney). Nirvana is this round’s only band to have been nominated in its first year of eligibility, i.e., twenty-five years after the release of a first single or album. (That would be “Love Buzz,” 1988—pre-Grohl, who joined in 1990.)
The Hall of Fame’s purpose, according to itself, “is to recognize the contributions of those who have had a significant impact on the evolution, development and perpetuation of rock and roll.” By that standard, Nirvana is a shoo-in. Although it produced just three albums before Kurt Cobain’s death, it is as highly regarded by my fifteen-year-old son’s cohort as it is by its original fans. The ceremony will be held in New York next April, exactly twenty years after Cobain died at the sadly fabled rock-and-roll age of twenty-seven.
Among this year’s nominees are several artists who have pursued political and social issues: N.W.A. (inner-city turmoil); Peter Gabriel (apartheid, human rights); the divine Linda Ronstadt (the environment, gay rights, immigration reform), whose nomination comes just two months after her distressing announcement that Parkinson’s has rendered her unable to sing; and, perhaps the most politically daring choice, Cat Stevens—who, as Yusuf Islam, was denied entry to the United States by the Department of Homeland Security but is, after all, the composer of “Peace Train.”
Still, it’s safe to say that this year will mark the first time since Bono that a rock star who is also a full-blown policy wonk has made the cut. What a lot of Nirvana fans may not know is that Krist Novoselic, the band’s bassist, has another passion: electoral reform.
Novoselic tells how it happened in his little book, “Of Grunge and Government,” a combination of memoir and political tract. As he describes his political education, it began at age eighteen, when he picked up a copy of Jack Kerouac’s “The Dharma Bums” at a Seattle bookstore. Five years later, Nirvana was on tour in Europe, playing Berlin the day after the Wall fell. During Nirvana’s “two years of meteoric fame,” the trio used its popularity to rally opposition to an anti-gay ballot initiative, to protest the first Gulf War, and to “bring attention to the plight of women in the Balkan conflicts of the time.” (Krist’s parents, Kristo and Marija, immigrated from Croatia.)
Krist, on his own after Nirvana, jumped into political advocacy in both Washingtons. In his home state, he lobbied lawmakers and rallied young people on behalf of various causes, especially opposition to music censorship. In 1998, in the other Washington, he testified before the Commerce Committee of the U.S. Senate. Back home again, he helped forge a satisfactory compromise on a bill before the state legislature. “Succeeding in the face of the slow grind of the democratic process is a wonderful experience,” he writes.
But Novoselic was developing doubts about the grinder itself. He kept telling his fans how important it was to get out and vote, but they kept telling him they felt that their votes didn’t count, that their votes were wasted. “I have always tried to be positive,” he writes.
That’s the system we inherited from the British centuries ago. Few democracies, almost all of them former British colonies, use it. Its unfortunate side effects are legion. Among others: zero-sum negative campaigns. Low voter participation. No guarantee of majority rule. And no guarantee of minority political representation. In the United States, in fact, racial representation is the enemy of political representation. When overwhelmingly black single-member districts were created in the South, African-American political representation—that is, representation for the policy ideas that African-Americans prefer—declined. There are plenty of white liberals in the South, but there are no Southern white liberal members of Congress. Likewise, there are plenty of conservatives in big Northern cities, but their representation in the House of Representatives is zero.
In “Of Grunge and Government,” Novoselic touts two big, visionary reforms.
The Hall of Fame’s purpose, according to itself, “is to recognize the contributions of those who have had a significant impact on the evolution, development and perpetuation of rock and roll.” By that standard, Nirvana is a shoo-in. Although it produced just three albums before Kurt Cobain’s death, it is as highly regarded by my fifteen-year-old son’s cohort as it is by its original fans. The ceremony will be held in New York next April, exactly twenty years after Cobain died at the sadly fabled rock-and-roll age of twenty-seven.
Among this year’s nominees are several artists who have pursued political and social issues: N.W.A. (inner-city turmoil); Peter Gabriel (apartheid, human rights); the divine Linda Ronstadt (the environment, gay rights, immigration reform), whose nomination comes just two months after her distressing announcement that Parkinson’s has rendered her unable to sing; and, perhaps the most politically daring choice, Cat Stevens—who, as Yusuf Islam, was denied entry to the United States by the Department of Homeland Security but is, after all, the composer of “Peace Train.”
Still, it’s safe to say that this year will mark the first time since Bono that a rock star who is also a full-blown policy wonk has made the cut. What a lot of Nirvana fans may not know is that Krist Novoselic, the band’s bassist, has another passion: electoral reform.
Novoselic tells how it happened in his little book, “Of Grunge and Government,” a combination of memoir and political tract. As he describes his political education, it began at age eighteen, when he picked up a copy of Jack Kerouac’s “The Dharma Bums” at a Seattle bookstore. Five years later, Nirvana was on tour in Europe, playing Berlin the day after the Wall fell. During Nirvana’s “two years of meteoric fame,” the trio used its popularity to rally opposition to an anti-gay ballot initiative, to protest the first Gulf War, and to “bring attention to the plight of women in the Balkan conflicts of the time.” (Krist’s parents, Kristo and Marija, immigrated from Croatia.)
Krist, on his own after Nirvana, jumped into political advocacy in both Washingtons. In his home state, he lobbied lawmakers and rallied young people on behalf of various causes, especially opposition to music censorship. In 1998, in the other Washington, he testified before the Commerce Committee of the U.S. Senate. Back home again, he helped forge a satisfactory compromise on a bill before the state legislature. “Succeeding in the face of the slow grind of the democratic process is a wonderful experience,” he writes.
But Novoselic was developing doubts about the grinder itself. He kept telling his fans how important it was to get out and vote, but they kept telling him they felt that their votes didn’t count, that their votes were wasted. “I have always tried to be positive,” he writes.
I’d go on about how every vote does count, and how it’s our duty as Americans to participate. But it didn’t take long to sink in that I was just pitching platitudes. This caused me a crisis of faith … The more I thought about the high rate of nonparticipation, the more I felt it was the result of a political structure that discourages diverse ideas.So he began to think outside the box—but not outside the ballot box. He concluded that the biggest problem with American legislative elections—even bigger than big money and partisan redistricting—is districting itself: the one-member-constituency, winner-take-all system of elections.
That’s the system we inherited from the British centuries ago. Few democracies, almost all of them former British colonies, use it. Its unfortunate side effects are legion. Among others: zero-sum negative campaigns. Low voter participation. No guarantee of majority rule. And no guarantee of minority political representation. In the United States, in fact, racial representation is the enemy of political representation. When overwhelmingly black single-member districts were created in the South, African-American political representation—that is, representation for the policy ideas that African-Americans prefer—declined. There are plenty of white liberals in the South, but there are no Southern white liberal members of Congress. Likewise, there are plenty of conservatives in big Northern cities, but their representation in the House of Representatives is zero.
In “Of Grunge and Government,” Novoselic touts two big, visionary reforms.
by Hendrik Hertzberg, New Yorker | Read more:
Image: Ted S. Warren/AP