REVIEW Kid Rock shows his many faces

Melissa Ruggieri / Charlottesville Daily Progress
Published: March 12, 2008

Say this for Kid Rock: His musical schizophrenia has never been on such vivid display.

With songs that veer a little bit country, a little bit rock 'n' roll and a little bit rap, it's hard to figure out who he's trying to entice. And the crowd, an assortment of frat boys, cowboys and frustrated boys who just wanted to bang their heads, illustrated his bizarre genre-crossing.

Even the addition of a cameo by Allman Brothers legend Dickey Betts added nothing to the show except to prove Kid's credibility and acceptance in the Southern rock world.

The second-half appearance of Reverend Run of Run-D.M.C. fame, however, electrified the thin - yet boisterous - crowd of about 4,500 with his spirited duetting with Kid on "It's Tricky" and "Walk This Way."

But even with The Reverend's crowd-pleasing performance, the concert - divided by an unnecessary intermission that killed all momentum - felt sluggish at points, especially during a 15-minute jam of "Ramblin' Man" that proved Betts' voice is shot, but he can still turn out those nifty runs on guitar with impressive agility.

Kid's Twisted Brown Trucker Band, a motley mixed-sex and -race crew of flannel, tattoos and fringe, ably anchored the musical backdrop for more than 2 1/2 hours and exhibited necessary versatility. To fly from the power guitar of "Rock N Roll Jesus" to the funk of "Welcome to the Party" (complete with spinning disco ball above the stage) to the Lynyrd Skynyrd/Warren Zevon-sampling "All Summer Long" requires plenty of flexibility, which this gang effortlessly provided.

Mr. Rock himself, meanwhile, displayed an ample dose of the scummy charm that makes him both an interesting cat and a guy who looks as if he needs a thorough scrubbing.

In his white track suit and fedora, Kid finger-snapped and swaggered around a lighted catwalk, singing Lowlife (Living The Highlife)" with almost a bit too much pride, and leaned into "Amen" with a bluesy drawl to his voice.

Though he doesn't really sing - he either raps or emotes in a voice that sounds like he gargles with a concoction of whiskey and sand - his voice does possess an affecting quality that worked on everything except the droning "Only God Knows Why," which devolved into a shriekfest.

But it was still often disconcerting to hear a stomper such as "Cowboy" detour into David Allan Coe's honky-tonkin' "You Never Even Called Me by My Name," before circling back with a thundering rock punch.

Granted, this was a crowd who obediently screamed "YEAH!" whenever Kid told them to and hooted at any mention of the word Virginia as if the Detroit native had just announced free Pontiacs for everyone.

So by the time Kid wrapped this dizzying genre-hop with what is still his best song - the slamming hit from 1998, "Bawitdaba" - it was unlikely that anyone in this audience cared about his musical-identity crisis.