Gun-wielding kid now rocking solidly in ‘racist scary violent Ted Nugent’ phase of pathetically declining career

The headlines about Rolling Stone’s profile and interview with Kid Rock have rightly focused on the most scandalous examples of the right-wing performer’s behavior. Writer David Peisner, who throughout calls his subject Bob Ritchie, his given name, says that Ritchie got drunker and drunker during what was supposed to be a 90-minute interview, eventually waving a gun around as he ranted, spitting out the n. word repeatedly, and got right in Peisner’s face, trying to start a fight or at least force Peisner to get mad at him.

But while that nonsense is certainly crazy, the overall focus of the article remains Peisner’s attempt to figure out how Bob Ritchie went from an avatar of party-on-anarchy to just another MAGA asshole spewing culture wars to own the libs. A cynic might argue that he’s traded one annoying cliché for another, but Peisner notes that while the old Kid Rock persona always seemed to be in on the joke, knowing it was a pose, the MAGA man doesn’t even have a hint of that. ironic aloofness.

It’s especially sad, and worth reading not so much because of “here Kid Rock is terrible” as because of Peisner’s reflections on how Bob Ritchie’s disappearance into Trump’s asshole is so depressingly familiar:

At a time when many people have a story about a family member who arrived on Thanksgiving wearing a red MAGA hat and soon after started forwarding BitChute videos and QAnon memes, the idea that a rich white man is a die-hard Trump supporter wouldn’t be like that anymore. exactly shocking.

There is some evidence that Ritchie is on some level aware that he has devoted his fame and his ability to attract an audience to something nihilistic and pointless, but then he comes right back to the fact that he is a force for is a good one, who helps Trump save America, as in this case. vignette:

“I am part of the problem,” he acknowledges. “I’m one of the polarizing people, there’s no doubt about that. Sometimes I complain about other people and I look in the mirror and think, ‘Oh yeah, why don’t you shut up too?’

So is this mainly a problem with impulse control?

“It’s a rich man’s issue,” he says. “There are no more fucks left. I won’t get it right every time, but I know my heart is right. I want the best for this country.”

Or maybe there isn’t really much of a contradiction between being scandalous and Trump-affiliated for the money, desperately trying to stay in the public eye as a middle-aged former party rap/rocker, and being his most authentic asshole self. He’s no Walt Whitman with a lot of people, but Bob Ritchie is at least half the size.

There are certainly moments where Rock/Ritchie seems to be auditioning for the role of Ted Nugentin 2007 against Barack Obama to “suck my machine gun,” and then turn it up and offer to rape Hillary Clinton with it.

Right, the gun. That also feels like a cover of a Nugent hit, maybe this catchy tune: “Ted Nugent offers to show journalist and rape producer that Ted Nugent is a damn nice guy.”

It comes into the discussion pretty quickly after a lot of biographical stuff, and after Mr. Ritchie 1) completed a live segment on Fox News with Laura Ingraham (he made a big show of calling Trump to ask him to watch, but the Great Man did not answer); 2) “swap his white wine for Jim Beam and Diet Coke” and a few more. Unlike earlier that day, when Peisner was largely able to keep him from shouting MAGA slogans, Ritchie is ready to go all out:

He’s sitting in a dark leather chair, yelling at me about something or other, when he reaches behind the chair, pulls out a black pistol, and waves it around to make a point.

“And I’ve got a damn gun right here if I need it!” he shouts. “I have them everywhere!”

Then it’s time to let out the n-words, for example immediately after the weapon swing. Ritchie explains that he can’t possibly be on the wrong side of history by supporting Trump because many people don’t know that Abraham Lincoln was more or less a Republican:

“No. It was the Republicans who freed the damn slaves!”

“Yes, but the Republicans were the progressive party at the time.”

“I know where you’re going with this, and I’ll tell you why I don’t,” Ritchie says. “Because Trick Trick, the hardest hit No. in Detroit, said, ‘Dog, you were right. We need Trump.” I’m fucking calling him now.’ He calls his phone, but Christian Mathis, the pioneering underground rapper from Detroit who goes by the name Trick Trick, doesn’t answer. Ritchie turns back to me. “I’m telling you. These dogs are calling me like, ‘Yo, n–r, you got that right!’” (Mathis did not respond to subsequent messages seeking confirmation of his support for Trump.)

Oh, in the first paragraph we also learn that Ritchie has a white butler/valet/husband named “Uncle Tom” who greets Peisner at the door, another way he’s a wild guy who doesn’t care, and all that giving-a-fuck almost seems like a burden to him. Peisner adds,

It’s worth noting that these aren’t the only times Ritchie drops the n-word during my visit. It would be easy to label this as the rantings of a drunken racist, but as with everything Ritchie does, it’s hard to appreciate just how calculated it all is. Is he just trying to provoke a reaction? Is he begging to be pilloried if this story breaks so he can launch a very public tirade against cancel culture? Is this all just a game for more attention? Would any of these things make it less gross?

Why no, no, that’s not the case.

Towards the end of the play, and after many more drinks, Ritchie verges on performative racism as he rants about “his tax dollars supporting ‘black women having children they can’t afford.’” Peisner almost sighs at the stupidity at this point:

“Look,” I tell him, “there are people abusing the system, but….”

“We call them black people. Do you agree?”

“No.”

“So you don’t like black people?”

“I don’t think black people are abusing the system.”

“You hate black people?”

God. It sounds like you actually have post-Musk Twitter in the room with you. We think Peisner understands what’s going on when he notes that several people who know Ritchie said he was

The right-wing awakening is as much about dealing with the emotional fallout of a declining career as it is about deeply held beliefs. He’s always longed for the spotlight, and now, at 53, more than a decade removed from his last big hit, he’s doing everything he can to keep it with him.

As Peisner eventually leaves, after repeated attempts to get away from a host who kept asking if he wouldn’t stay over or at least take home some KKK Hot Dish, Ritchie approaches with a request:

“Can you do me a favor?” he asks, almost whispering. “Just write the most horrible article about me. Do it. It helps me.”

I walk to my car and just before I get there, he shouts again.

“Do you want to tell everyone I was halfway cool?”

What is that word? Miserable? Yes, that’s enough.

UGH and OPEN THREAD.

Part

(Rolling stone / Billboard / Fox news)

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