It’s fitting that the two best songs on Kid Rock’s self-titled album, released Nov. 11, are Rock ‘n’ Roll Pain Train and Rock ‘n’ Roll.
Kid Rock, aka Bob Ritchie, has wisely ditched his fascination with metal and de-emphasized hip-hop this time out. Kid Rock, aptly enough, is most effective as a rocker/bad-boy country singer.
The Detroit native is more than capable of serving up Southern-fried rock with plenty of attitude. The muscular Jackson, Mississippi, which packs a welcome punch and has a nice little groove, should translate well live.
Kid Rock, who is still self-aggrandizing, has plenty of style and most of the songs have enough hooks to keep the interest of the Coor’s Light nation.
There’s nothing revolutionary about Kid Rock. Clich�s abound, and much of what the beer pitchman renders has been appropriated from such heroes as Hank Williams Jr. and Bob Seger. Speaking of the latter, Rock covers the poignant Hard Night for Sarah, a well-crafted power ballad written and recorded by Seger but never released.
The tattooed, pimp-hat-sportin’ Rock is no wordsmith. He doesn’t possess the best set of pipes either. However, the politically incorrect caricature’s charisma, flair and knack for picking and writing strong material help make it all work. Rock is this era’s David Lee Roth, but with some substance.
Britney Spears’ fourth album, In The Zone, which also hit the bins Nov. 11, is hyped as the pop pinup’s most revealing release to date. Sure, the thin-voiced diva poured her broken little heart out in eight songs that she cowrote, but what’s most revealing are the cheeky photos that accompany the liner notes.
Spears’ latest batch of dance-pop is her best, but it remains insubstantial and innocuous. The pop princess, who Madonna has anointed as the girl most likely to rise to the head of the performing class, is joined by Madge for the most impressive In The Zone tune, Me Against the Music. The contrived banter between the aging megastar who just can’t let go and Justin Timberlake’s ex grates, but once the beat kicks in, it could pass for a decent Madonna B-side circa 1990.
Spears pulls a page from Christina Aguilera’s provocative book with Touch of My Hand. The track is obviously about masturbation.
While listening to In The Zone, it’s almost impossible not to think visually. It doesn’t matter that the album is mediocre. Who cares if Spears doesn’t sing particularly well or if the songs are cookie-cutter? It’s all about the video and what Spears is wearing or, well, not wearing.
Aside from the aforementioned Madonna, the Ying Yang Twins, R. Kelly and the Matrix have their fingerprints all over In The Zone. Without the various sonic chefs, Spears couldn’t have risen to the middle of the pop echelon.
