Rock ‘n’ Roll Jesus

That’s right. Kid Rock, the wordsmith responsible for classic refrains such as ‘bawitdaba-da-bang-da-dang-diggy-diggy-diggy-said-the boogie-said-up-jump-the-boogie’, is still making music. Despite beginning his career at an almost adolescent stage many years prior to real success, when Kid Rock, real name Robert James Ritchie, first appeared at the turn of the century blending cheesy biker-rock music, smutty hip-hop and occasionally a country twang he was a white rapper to rival Eminem’s urban style with his own Redneck appeal. And were it not for the release of Beck’s ‘Loser’ an entire decade earlier, he could have been labeled the greatest Cowboy MC around.

In 2007 though, the joke’s over. It might have been funny to laugh at his ridiculously sexist polemics before but now Ritchie seems to think he’s Hank Williams Sr. The, often autotuned, country drivel that previously served as a minor gimmick just to differentiate himself from every other white rapper out there now serves as the music itself. Almost every single song on the album is a guitar-strumming ode to being from the South with Kid Rock singing – despite the fact he can’t sing – about how much of a tobacco chewin’ outlaw he is. Accompanied by the Fisk Jubilee Singers, he even adds a faux-gospel element, giving himself the credence to use song titles like ‘Amen’, only enhancing his image as a Bible-belt yokel.

The album’s only return to the rap-rock that we’re used to is ‘Sugar’ which, despite being comprised of clichéd guitar riffs and the kind of flow and rhyming you’d expect, actually serves as the album’s highlight. Any doubt one may have of Mr. Rock’s lyrical capabilities are settled once and for all with the inclusion of the line ‘Yeah, I’ll fuck you in the nose’. Not only is this a most ludicrous promise, it’s also the biggest failure of a boast in asserting the size of one’s manhood since Snoop Dogg’s “Gap tooth in ya mouth so my dick’s got to fit”. 

After this it’s all downhill, not that an ascent uphill was ever really made, with more cowboy crooning. Any hopes of comedy being restored by further guest appearances from foul-mouthed midget rapper Joe C bragging about his tripod-like body shape, are futile, as he died six years ago. 

With the release of this album, Kid Rock may claim to be your ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll Jesus’ and that he scours the deserts like a lone ranger. But he doesn’t. Instead, he sits in his yacht with flowers around his neck and James Blunt at his side. Any flick through an issue of ‘Heat’ magazine will clarify this.

Rating: 2/10

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