An article in the Detroit Free Press
notes that, a week ago, a man was attacked outside a restaurant by two fans of Kid Rock for his less-than-glowing opinion of the recording artist.
As the article sets it up:
Birmingham Police say two men were talking about Kid Rock at the Townhouse Restaurant on Aug. 13 when a third man spoke up and said he was not a fan of the local artist.
The two men then found the hater outside and apparently tried pushing his face in.
Now, we'll gladly bet a week's worth of booze that the conversation didn't find its expression in the neutral terms used in the article. We envision it was two drunken bro-dogs high-fiving each other about how much Kid Rock rules. At which point, somebody piped up with "Kid Rock blows."
Actually, it was probably even more articulate than that. Say what you will about Kid Rock, but there seems to be an almost exponentially inverse relationship between loving Kid Rock and delivering an articulate critique. Where those who love Bob Richie's music and hillbilly stage persona are likely to use such words as "bruh," "dog," and "dude," those who hate Kid Rock have an ability to list all that they hate about him in devastating detail.
Take our cover story from Jan. 3, 2007, which contained this takedown of Kid:
At the top of that list, of course, were the four weddings and a divorce, with Kid and his unblushing bride Pamela Anderson jetting around the globe for a series of hyped-to-the-max, alcohol-drenched commitment ceremonies that had all the class of stained faux-satin bed sheets. Less than three months after tying that fourth knot, the loving couple was headed for divorce court. Even more abysmal was the Kid's foray into politics, with the man formally known as Robert Richie campaigning for law-and-order, family-values Senate candidate Mike Bouchard, Oakland County's sheriff. We don't know who's more of a hypocritical opportunist with this one, the guy who rapped the immortal line "Playin' shows, fuckin' hos, Got the dope in my veins and up my nose" or the hopelessly desperate politico who accepted his support.
Or let's roll back the clock five years and behold what onetime MT music editor Brian Smith had to say about Richie
One of the greatest d’bags in the history of pop music, to be sure. Here’s a rich white kid who stepped into inner-city Detroit, copped its music wholesale from its rappers — without proper credit — made DJ shtick (oh, the irony!) of it, and then later paraded around, hair-tossing and burping up song-after-gratuitous-song of self-congratulatory horseshit. … It’s as if everything in Kid Rock’s life and songs has been designed specifically to show others just how sweet Kid Rock is. … After Rock ditched the lame rock-rap and slipped into white trashin’, we knew it was an easy route to big bank deposits. I saw this and went, "Oh. My. God. Why isn’t everyone pointing to this guy and screeching, ‘We’re being conned and manipulated and this guy blows! He’s a fucking sock puppet in a nice Republican coat!’"
We're not saying the Freep got it wrong, but we'd lay good money the third man in Birmingham said something more like the paragraphs above to say. Because saying, "I don't like Kid Rock" isn't enough to get two Kid Rock fans to want to line-dance all over your larynx, no matter how liquored up they are.