Wings isn’t in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, but they should be. So if you have a vote, or know someone or does, let’s get Wings inducted soon.
Musically, I can’t conceive of a rational argument why they shouldn’t be inducted. I don’t know enough about the various music charts to discern precisely how successful Wings were, but let’s agree that they were extremely successful, both commercially and artistically.
They released 7 albums and 29 singles between 1971 and 1979. Phrases like “best-selling pop act of the ’70s–more than Elton John” describe Wings on more than one online site. And even if some critics dismiss Silly Love Songs or With a Little Luck as lightweight, Band on the Run (the album), Live and Let Die, and Rockestra Theme all won Grammys.
Wings had no fixed lineup, but three members–Paul, Linda, and Denny Laine–appeared on every album. And it’s not like there were 43 Wings; Wings featured 10 members over its 7 studio albums and Wings Over America.
So why haven’t Wings* been inducted yet? Paul has a fraught history with the Rock Hall. Acts are eligible for induction 25 years after their first release. The Beatles were inducted in 1988, their first year of eligibility, but only George and Ringo appeared at the induction ceremony; Paul released a statement saying that “business differences, which I hoped would have been settled by now” kept him away. John was inducted as a solo artist in 1994,** but Paul wasn’t inducted until 1999 (29 years after the release of his first solo album, McCartney).***
Paul also had a checkered relationship with Jann Wenner, the Rolling Stone magazine founder who also co-founded the Rock Hall. I’ll let you conduct your own research into why the two bickered over the years. But suffice it to say that Wenner sided squarely with John in the Lennon vs. McCartney contretemps of the ’70s.
Paul hardly needs another credential, and Wings’ absence from the Rock Hall in no way diminishes his legacy. I’ve probably spent more time thinking about this than he has, and maybe it doesn’t matter if Wings are ever inducted. Except . . .
They were a great band. And most importantly, inducting Wings–even just the three-person core of the group–will put Linda McCartney in the Rock Hall. I have to believe that Linda’s induction would mean something to Paul, and to millions of Wings and Linda fans like me.
So do the right thing. Linda and Denny are no longer with us, but Paul is, and he and Heather, Mary, Stella, and James would surely be honored to see Linda in the Rock Hall, where she belongs.
*In an early draft, I mis-typed “Wigs” here, which led me to concoct a backstory for a band named The Wigs that has been inducted into the Rock Hall. They’re a power-pop trio from Toledo, Ohio, whose first (and best) album, Don’t Sweat the Details, was released in early 1981. They filmed videos for their first two singles, Enlighten Me and I Hate to Love You, but MTV didn’t offer them much airtime because they looked more like The Ramones than they did Duran Duran. They recorded two more albums, each one selling fewer copies than the last, until their label dropped them in 1987. Like Velvet Underground and Big Star, The Wigs were one of those bands that had an outsized influence on other musicians. Michael Stipe of REM said that “All we wanted on those early records was to sound 40% as good as The Wigs sounded.” Rhino released the The Wigs, Complete box set in 2019, which compiled their three studio albums, singles, B-sides, demos, 21 unreleased tracks (including their never-released fourth album, Brothers Underwater), and their infamous 1984 Los Angeles Club Lingerie show in which the band started playing Glory Days before bassist Jerry DeLeon shouted, “Fuck Springsteen! We’re The Wigs,” under the which title the concert has been bootlegged for many years. When Bruce gave The Wigs’ Rock Hall induction speech in 2008, he began, predictably but charmingly, “Fuck The Wigs! I’m Bruce Springsteen.”
**26 years after Two Virgins.
*** That was the year after Linda died. Stella McCarney, Paul’s daughter, wore a tee shirt to the occasion that read “ABOUT FUCKING TIME!”
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