CONT'D: Where Have All the Rock Stars Gone? | Page 1, 2, 3

Kid Rock
On the surface, Kid Rock seems to be the quintessential rock star: brash, flamboyant, and perennially surrounded by half-naked skanks. Rumor has it that on tour, he employs a bouncer to stand outside his trailer and check the ID's of female groupies. Hell, he even employs a pot-smoking, mohawked midget as his sidekick-an admirable rock and roll move. His lyrics are clever in a juvenile, early Beastie Boys way: "I curse like a sailor and drink like a mick / My only words of wisdom are suck my dick."

Unfortunately, Kid's antics make it a bit difficult for us to take him seriously, coming across less as Sean Penn than Shaggy from Scooby Doo. About as physically intimidating as Screech from Saved by the Bell, Kid Rock's tough guy act would fit in wonderfully in the World Wrestling Federation: he's extremely entertaining to watch, but in the end we know it's all just a fun, tongue-in-cheek facade.

Limp Bizkit
Arguably the biggest band in the world today, Limp Bizkit's groin-thumping noise and inferno-inspiring performance at Woodstock '99 poised the band to claim the fallen crown of the True Kings of Rock. Like Kid Rock, however, the group has fumbled the ball of artistic integrity, penning some of the dumbest lyrics in modern music history (couldn't they have found a better rhyme for "nookie" than "cookie"? Do they live on Sesame Street?).

But unlike Kid Rock, the boys from Bizkit seem blissfully unaware of their silliness, sincerely meaning every inane word and tried guitar riff. Plus, frontman Fred Durst simply can't rap, his flat tone and uninteresting rhythms making the Japanimation Pokemon rap sound downright funky. All the band's attempts at wit come across as arrogant and elitist, such as the hardcore cover of George Michael's "Faith", done seemingly as a mocking rib on the publicly-playing pop prince. Durst doesn't seem to realize, with his radio-friendly hooks and contentless subject matter, he basically is just another George Michael (with a few more tattoos and a much fatter ass), selling millions of slickly-produced, meaningless pop albums that will assure Limp Bizkit a prime-time spot on a future VH1 Where Are They Now? marathon.

Nine Inch Nails
Artistic integrity is never in doubt with Trent Reznor et al, Nine Inch Nails' soul-hammering electronic beats and dark poetry blending to create maybe the most unique and relevant voice in rock today. Reznor's jaded tales of angst, feral lust, and profound suffering layer the background of a million teenage lives, speaking to disenfranchised outsiders like none since the great Cobain left us. In the past, Nails stage shows have been glorious ballets of destruction with A Clockwork Orange-like imagery (such as a sped-up video of Reznor's dog decomposing, played in reverse) and deafening aural terrorism.

Really, the only barrier that prevents Nine Inch Nails form ascending to the pantheon of rock deities is Trent's quiet demeanor, avoiding public interaction at all costs and never appearing drunk at the Grammys. Sure, banging Courtney Love was a slick rock star move, and hearing his lyrics "I want to fuck you like an animal" dancing across every reluctant radio wave in America is true rock star fare. But he's sorely missing that magical rock charisma that etches the Hendrixes, Lennons, and Moons into our collective memories. Uncompromising and brilliant, Reznor and Nine Inch Nails have reserved a revered place among modern rock's greatest innovators, but Trent needs to trash a few more hotel rooms in order to get closer to rock god.

Red Hot Chili Peppers
Oh, how the mighty have fallen. At one time, the Chilis' outrageous onstage antics, such as the now-legendary sock-on-the-johnson exhibitions and their lawsuit-inducing MTV performance in which they jerked an unwilling young lady's hot pants down, cemented the band's reputation as the LA wild boys of funky rock and roll. Their music was hard-hitting and technically brilliant (Blood Sugar Sex Magik remains one of the strongest albums of all time) and their unique blend of fearless sexual aggression, quirky humor, and charisma was free, enthralling, and impossible to ignore.

Fortunately for the boys (but unfortunately for us), sobriety has finally caught up with the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The heroin addictions that had perennially dogged frontman Anthony Kiedis and guitarist John Frusciante (and killed guitarist Hillel Slovak) have finally been quashed. Understandably, after such trauma the Chili Peppers have become a softer, more introspective group, even pouring their troubled hearts out on a VH1 Behind the Music special. While it is wonderful that the seemingly decent members of the bass-pumping band have wrestled and defeated their demons, their victory comes at a cost of lost recklessness, flamboyance, and (shudder to say) rock and roll spirit.

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