Monday, September 15, 2008

Take It Like a Man, Kid Rock

It is with a heavy heart, dear friends and citizens of the World Wide InterWebs, that I begin our mutual blog-relationship on such a sour note. Before you criticize, you have to understand that I'm speaking with the voice of a man who simply can't take it anymore. My rational, open-mindedness has fled for the hills, leaving me with the mentality of an angry audiophile whose good taste has been raped via pop culture.

What is this canker that has me so "bug-a-boo" all of a sudden you ask?

It's Kid Rock, I tell you. Kid Rock...

Here's the point in my diatribe where I would love to say something positive about the self-proclaimed Early Morning Stoned Pimp, but there's simply nothing positive to say.

Earlier today, I went to get my oil changed. While I was sitting in the waiting area, enjoying an excellent article about the creation of
The White Album, my ears perked up as the opening piano riff of Warren Zevon's Werewolves of London began playing on the radio. "Wonderful," I thought to myself, as I enjoy Mr. Zevon's delightful portrayal of a lycanthrope-stricken Britain. That's when everything changed and Werewolves of London began mingling with Lynard Skynard's Sweet Home Alabama. My mood at this point? Puzzled and somewhat confused, but far from annoyed. And then everything changed. My shipment of FAIL had arrived.

"And we were trying different things, we were smoking funny things
Making love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow
Singing 'Sweet Home Alabama' all summer long"

Dang. In all fairness, my deep-rooted disgust for Kid Rock, aka Bob Ritchie, goes back many years. It began when he decided that he was a wordsmith of sorts and coined the phrase "bawitdaba (bada dang diggy)," which translates roughly to "I speak nonsense and am a moron." Look - I've made up plenty of ridiculous words and phrases. In fact, I'm sure that PK over here can cite more than a few. The difference? We haven't sold
25 million records.

Making up words isn't so're right. I should cut him some slack, you say? Were you aware that he titled an album
The History of Rock? Holy crap! Could you be anymore unjustifiably pretentious and full of vileness? I didn't think so in 2000 - I thought that we'd reached the peaks of bad taste and I could finally sleep again.

Some years passed and I grew happier with each passing day. And then I heard this (taken from the song
Amen on the album Rock n' Roll Jesus [which I find redundant]):

"Simplify, testify, identify, rectify
And if I get high stop being so uptight
It's only human nature and I am not a stranger
So baby won't you stay with me tonight"

Wow. Just when you think that Kid Rock's growing up a bit and trying to coax some global unity out of us, there it is: his hidden agenda to sleep with a roadie. Ahh, compassion... the aphrodisiac of champions.

Now, I'm just a sad and bitter man who's had two great songs blended together and summarily executed at the hands of my de facto arch-nemesis, Kid Rock.

I hope it feels good, Kid Rock. I hope it feels good to climb so high with so little merit. And yes, this is just one man's opinion, but believe me when I say that this opinion is really, really strong and burns with the heat of one thousand suns.

Don't worry, friends; I'll climb out of this rut by listening to something much more uplifting and well-crafted. Ah-ha! Some Randy Newman ought to do the trick....

Until next time, digital boys and girls, take care of each other and if you see Kid Rock fall down on the street, it's okay to help him up. I encourage it. Just do it with a mean face.

Your Obedient Servant,
Winston LaGrange