Kid Rock
Cocky (Lava/Atlantic) “Red, white, and Pabst Blue Ribbon.” One nation, under God, with liberty and lap dances for all. Stars and Stripes and middle fingers flying, the Pimp of the Nation is back with a multiplatinum shit-eating grin, poised to plunder the politically correct and bitch-slap a few terrorists along the way. Has he grown any since Devil Without a Cause sounded its raucous rallying cry for Beam-slurping wifebeater-wearers from coast to coast — you know, become a responsible citizen of the rock-star community? Hell no. It’s Kid Rock, yo, so what you get is Mr. Ritchie informing us how long he’ll be around (“Forever”), relating “What I Learned out on the Road,” and even working up a nice George ‘n’ Tammy thing with Sheryl Crow on “Picture.” As ever, his Twisted Brown Trucker Band remains the biggest bunch of Skynyrd-loving metalheads on either side of the Mississippi, and really let the fur fly on “I’m a Dog,” “I’m Wrong, but You Ain’t Right,” and “Drunk in the Morning.” Cocky truly offers something for everyone: Dee-troit muscle, Southern comfort, wistful (but hardly remorseful) ballads such as “Midnight Train to Memphis,” and a big old nut sack for all the haters to swing on. Even so, the best part comes at the end, when Rock welcomes Snoop D-O-double-G into the fold for a ribald romp through some “World Class Sex Rhymes.” As President Bush might say (but probably won’t): Make no mistake, the American Bad Ass is open for business. Let’s roll!
This article appears in November 30 • 2001.