| Concert Review of Kid Rock at Richmond Coliseum on Thu Jun 10, 2004 |
| Event Date |
| Thu Jun 10, 2004 |
| Source |
| Richmond Times Dispatch |
| Concert Review Preview |
| MUSIC REVIEW: Kid Rock Showman Kid Rock rollicks in Richmond BY TOM NETHERLAND SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT Jun 11, 2004 CONCERT REVIEW KID ROCK WHERE: Richmond Coliseum WHEN: Last night Showmanship didn't die with Bob Hope. Live long enough and listen close and then every once in a while someone comes along whose rules appear all his own. That's Bobby Ritchie. Call him Kid Rock. His music may not fly with everyone, but Rock's hard to pigeonhole. Take last night's raunch'n' roll show at the Coli- seum. Though hotter than the center of the sun inside the antiquated Coliseum (thanks in part to Rock's pyrotechnics), the half-capacity crowd fueled Rock's gusto with rebel yells and hoots and hollers. Rock deserved no less. See, somewhere out where rock crosses with hip-hop and meets soul, which commingles with country, resides Kid Rock. He's a redneck rocker who drops rhymes to hip-hop beats. He gives props to Ice Cube and Grandmaster Flash, then tips his hat to country vets Hank Williams Jr. and Johnny Cash - all in one song. Go figure. Puddle of Mudd opened the show. Given terrible sound and songs that grunged along, they sounded stuck in mud. Given 50 minutes to shine, they dulled, as on the generic rocker "Spin You Around." Yawn. Five to 9 and one night after his appearance on "Late Show with David Letterman," and the night before a guest spot on "The Today Show," Kid Rock bounded forth from a center stage stairway. The self-proclaimed "Pimp of the Nation" was in the house. A black hat topped his stringy hair, a black Jack Daniels T-shirt covered his back. For nearly two hours, Rock served platefuls of ham thicker than a hog's hindquarters. First, a self-serving "Son of Detroit" was revamped from David Allan Coe's "Son of the South." More Southern rock than hip-hop, the song made a statement of sorts, despite rotten sound. Rock's an entertainer with pizzazz. Don't think so? Betcha he'd tell you. Modesty skipped the show. "I'm TNT, I'm dynamite," Rock roared on "Welcome 2 the Party." Indeed. Song over, the lights went low. Time for a ballad, right? Nope. On came the bump-and-grind girls, four scantily clad women, two for dance cages on each end of the stage. Rock rolled through "Cocky" ("got more money than Matchbox 20"). Regardless of his genre hip-hopping, the narcissistic name-dropper owns an engine that's gassed to go. Mike to his mouth, Rock railed through hits like "Cowboy" like a bronc-busting hellion hauling freight to hell. He leaned in and out and all about like a pogo stick come to life. . |
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