Kid Rock

You’ve gotta hand it to Kid Rock. Plotting a career trajectory must be hard when you begin as a Vanilla Ice imitator and morph into a white-trash hip-hop macker and then into a Southern-fried bad boy with a penchant for the kind of ’70s Gibson guitars and Jack Daniel’s sour-mash buttrock you used to hear emanating from eight-track decks in Plymouth Roadrunners. One suspects that with the Kid, it’s like peeling layers of an onion, revealing the good ol’ boy inside the homeboy front. Consider “Cadillac Pussy,” the album’s second cut, ostensibly a “duet” with Hank Williams Jr.—if Bocephus drunkenly barking the chorus “She had some Cadillac pussy / Man it would drive you wild” constitutes a duet. That one’s followed by Bad Company’s “Feel Like Makin’ Love.” ’Nuff said. Truly stanky. I can dig it.