After the huge success of 1998's Devil Without a Cause, it seems feasible that Kid Rock would at least try to write some fresh material. But for a guy who talks as much as he does, Rock sure doesn't have anything new or profound to say. After a good, solid listen, any kid who likes rock can figure out that Kid Rock has a lot of money, gets a lot of women, drinks a lot of booze, and repeats himself... a lot.
Kid Rock's usual hard-driving rock-rap somehow seems less clever than ever (if that's possible), and his depth in rhyming rarely rises above the poo-poo-pee-pee level, including one particularly memorable stretch in which he successfully rhymes "Nantucket," "suck it," and "f--k it."
So he drops a few (thousand) f-bombs and collaborates with Snoop Dogg on a cut ("WCSR") that makes you feel so dirty you'll have to take two showers? It can't get any worse, right? Wrong. Just when you think it's over, Kid Rock goes country in one of the most inexplicable, unmotivated, agonizing moments in music history. Imitating Hank Williams, Sr., Rock's wails on "Midnight Train to Memphis" and "Baby Come Home" sound more like a cat caught in a lawnmower. And I think it made me sterile.
The worst part is that even Kid Rock doesn't seem to know what the hell he is trying to accomplish, electing to change back into his hip-hop clothes half-way through each track. If you're going to be horrendous, at least be consistent.
Kid Rock is the new Ted Nugent, with less class. "Picture," a country ballad/duet with Sheryl Crow, is one bright spot--sort of. When Rock shuts his big yapper long enough, it sounds nice. And if you happen to like the brazen braggadocio of old, "Forever" is your best bet. Just don't expect the same effort throughout.
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