KID ROCK '98



By Max Sidman
It’s good to see Kid Rock on his way up the ladder. Finally. The Kid has been around for the better part of a decade now (seven years to be exact) and in that time, he has built a armor-plated reputation as the undisputed and underrated king of white guy rappers. However, those in the know have gotten Kid Rock since the beginning, when he broke out of the Detroit area with Grits Sandwiches for Breakfast, on Jive records, the first of five records. Back then, hip-hop was the counter culture, and groups like A Tribe Called Quest, EPMD, Rob Base and Boogie Down Productions were making hip-hop headway as other groups like NWA (which was actually falling apart at the time) were defining what came to be known as Gangsta’ Rap. But Kid Rock (a.k.a. Bob Ritchie) didn’t come out of either New York or Los Angeles. Kid was a product of the Mid West, a middle class suburbanite who grew up on stuff like Bob Seger, Led Zeppelin and Johnny Cash. Still, Kid had a penchant for hip-hop, and after his first experience with the turntables, decided that it was something that he really wanted to do. He worked his way out of the ‘burbs and into the city, where he came up in the ranks and eventually landed himself a deal on Jive Records. And though Kid was touring with Ice Cube by the time he was 19 years old, his deal with Jive proved to be a major roadblock to a major music career.

After nullifying a bad deal with Jive in which he got royally screwed, Kid decided that independence was a good thing, and set out on a career that had him selling his own records and packing medium-sized venues throughout the northern Mid West. He was making a good living and taking care of his business. Life was good, more or less. Last year, Kid cut a deal with Atlantic Records, his first since the Jive days, and in doing so, cleared the path for Devil Without a Cause, his latest release, and many say his strongest. On the new record, Kid combines the rock sounds of his youth and today with the beats and rhymes of a true hip-hop fan. With the Twisted Brown Trucker Band backing him up, Kid Rock is creating a kind of rock / rap hybrid that shirks the revolutionary political attitude of Rage Against the Machine, scoffs at the baggy-pant, stoner, neo-hippie funk of 311, and is way more serious about having a good time than G-Love & Special Sauce. Kid Rock makes music you can party to in a serious way.

Perhaps this feeling in Kid’s music comes from that fact that he lives that sentiment. In his early days, Kid’s taste for the party lifestyle garnered him quite a reputation as a pimp, and he sometime appeared on stage in a fur coat with a bikini-clad beauty on each arm. These days, Kid Rock is older, wiser and mostly chilled out. He’s got custody of his five-year-old son, and with his Atlantic record deal, he knows that family and business are his highest priorities. That doesn’t stop Kid from partaking in the party on the road, though, and he is no stranger to a good time, even in doses. "People come shows now and say, ‘We want to get Rock high!’" he says as we get to talking. "It’s a rough image to live up to sometimes, man."

M:How’s the tour going?

KID: The tour’s going great, man. We sold it out in Knoxville last night.

M: How are people reacting to the new material?

KID: Very, very well. It’s overwhelming, man, ‘cause everything’s happening so fuckin’ fast.

M: In the song "Devil Without a Cause," you rap that "It’s been a long time comin’ but I finally broke…"

KID: Yeah. "…Like an egg yoke / I ain’t no joke / Like some uncut dope."

M: How long have you been at this?

KID: I’ve been professional—on wax, I guess you could say—since ’89, ’90.

M: I remember when you started out, you went out on the road with Ice Cube at, like, 19 years old.

KID: Yeah, it’s kinda’ weird, man. I did the rap thing back in the early ‘90s. Then I did the Warped tour, doing the punk rock thing, and now it looks like I’ll finally be able to find my own niche to fit into and play with myself, literally.

M: What are some of the differences between being on the road back then and being out now?

KID: Back then, I was 18 or 19, just outta high school, a little cocky son of a bitch, and didn’t know shit about shit. Now I pretty much got the business end of this whole thing down, and I’m actually stacking cash, but still having a good fuckin’ time.

M: Do you still live like a rock star pimp on the road?

KID: Absolutely. That’s the only place I’m allowed to [live that way], really. When I’m at home, I gotta take care of business. I got a five-year-old boy that I’m raising, who just got custody of, so I’m all business at home, except on the weekends. On the road, I like to say that’s when I take my space shuttle to hell. Let the pimpin’ begin.

M: Tell us a little about the new album?

KID: I think it’s the best one yet, and it’s worked out pretty good with all the albums. I think I’ve gotten better with each one, and I finally put together a smokin’ band—Twisted Brown Trucker. We fucked around a lot making the album, I can’t lie. We got a hot tub in the studio, money in the bank, we started blowin’ lines and fuckin’ bitches every night. Finally I had to take a plane down to Memphis, drove through the South, and hung out in the French Quarter [of New Orleans] to finish up writing the record—basically finished up most of the songs lyrically and vocally in, like six days, after fuckin’ off for two months.

M: Did Atlantic Records lay out all the cash for all this?

KID: Yeah, they laid out everything. It was unbelievable.

M: How is it working out with the label?

KID: It’s been fuckin’ great. I mean, there’re a few key people in there who absolutely had my back. But I won’t sit here and lie to you like every other group; I went with Atlantic because they kicked out the cash. No doubt about it. But still, I told them flat out that I really liked them, and they were the first ones at the table. They broke it down for me, everything I wanted. And sometimes, you just gotta take a chance with somebody. You never know what you’re going to get dealing with a major, but the guys that signed me were totally straight forward: "We’ll sell some records now, and a few years down the line we might kick you off the label." I said, "Fine. That’s all I want to hear."

M: This must be nice after that whole mess with Jive.

KID: Oh yeah, Jive. Man, I thought I was the shit then, 18 and in high school. But I got screwed outta my ass, I only got, like, five grand through this production deal. I told my dad to fuck off, fuckin’ moved out to New York and started portering cars and shit. It’s all good though, man. I learned a whole hell of a lot. I mean, I’m glad I got fucked when I was young instead of now.

M: What are the differences between the new album and some of the last ones?

KID: Well, of course, Atlantic had to edit a couple of lyrics. But we all agreed, there’s no sense in going with a major label if I wasn’t going to make ‘em some hits. They need those to pump the record, get the radio down with it. That was no problem and I gave ‘em that stuff, but I still want to keep true to all the stuff that I’ve been doing. I guess a lot of the difference is that I’ve developed my voice a lot more so the singing’s more on. Musically, I’ve gotten into so much more stuff, learned the instruments so that, during the show, I’ll sit down and pull the Prince or the Hank Jr. and do this thing with just me and the instruments. I’m just really trying to fuse everything together, but in a sense, it isn’t even fusing, it’s just doing what’s natural for me, growing up with Johnny Cash and Lynyrd Skynyrd and Hank William and Fleetwood Mac and shit; and then going off on my own and finding the local ghetto, spinning at basement parties there for five years. That was so long ago. I actually didn’t shop even shop for a deal [after Jive and before Atlantic] when I was selling independent records out of Detroit, making fine money, paying off my house, taking care of my boy, doing just fine. Finally, somebody said, "Okay, we’ll let you make a record with all your influences." You know, the labels were always approaching me ‘cause they saw the Soundscans™ and stuff, saying, "If you make a rock record, we can sell it, but we can’t sell this rock and rap stuff." Finally, the label actually got it. I can do whatever I want as long as I crank out some hits. [They said] flat out, "We need some hits."

M: How does coming from the Mid West pertain to your music?

KID: Well, the bar owners are like, "You’re so talented. Why do ya’ gotta swear and cuss so much?" It’s like that here in the South, too. Shit man, I’m from Detroit. I go into McDonald’s and I’m used to having someone waivin’ a gun in my face. Not to mention that this is the way I talk to all my friends. I’m not gonna switch it up on my record.

M: It’s just that the Mid West kind of a weird place to come from and be really into hip-hop. How’d that happen?

KID: God, I still don’t know. I grew up with a corn field in my back yard, had horses when I was young, spent my early years mowin’ lawn and haulin’ brush. I saw someone scratchin’ records on the TV one day, and I immediately ruined my mom’s stereo, one of those home stereos. I cut out a piece of felt, threw it on the turntable, and used the volume knob to scratch all the Beatles records. My brother’s friends would come over in their Trans Ams and say things like, "Hey ya’ little faggot. You wanna be a scratcher someday?" Then I always used to throw my own dances in Junior High at the church an’ shit, and make cash. I started DJing at the high school dances and one night, a cousin of one of the six black kids in town happened to be there and asked me to come to the city. I was like, "Yeah, if you come pick me up." Everything just kept parlaying from there—talent shows, opening up for Rob Base and BDP [KRS-ONE’s Boogie Down Productions]. BDP discovered me and got me down with Jive.

M: You rap about career longevity on Devil Without a Cause. What’s the key to staying alive in this business?

KID: It’s just moving at your own pace and trying not to get caught up in any fad, which is really why I wanted to make this record diverse, ‘cause this rap / rock thing is so popular right now, but there’s a lot of people doing it that I don’t … to me are just… like 311. I mean, good band and all that I guess, but I don’t care for their shit. If we get five more bands like that, it’s gonna be a fad, and I don’t want to get caught in any fad. I didn’t want to get caught in the 2Live Crew fad with my foul mouth so I made a lot of deep songs early in my career. I’m just always trying to do my own thing, and no matter how big it is, I’m always going. I saw the fuckin’ punk-ass Vanilla Ices come and go; I saw rock bands like Alice In Chains come. I saw all these things happening at the same time, and I wasn’t selling millions of records, but I was still moving and growing at my own pace. Don’t get me wrong. If something would’ve snapped four years ago and I would’ve shot to the top, I would’ve taken it like everybody else. But luckily I always did a steady thing. I watched people come and watched ‘em go. And , man, those VH1 specials have helped me out tremendously.

M: What’s a typical Kid Rock show like?

KID: Pure fuckin’ rock and roll, man. 100 percent entertainment. I mean, you want me to get political? The most political thing I’ll say is when I tell you what I think: Monica Lewinsky is a hoe and Bill Clinton is a motherfuckin’ pimp. I’m not into savin’ the fuckin’ whales, Betty Ford and shrinks. I’m into trailer parks, Pabst Blue Ribbon and top-shelf mixed drinks. If the kids are gonna come to the show, let’s get down, let’s party and let’s have a good time.


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