Jonathan Bogart: I’m still a little grateful to him for introducing me to Dobie Gray and for signalling to Kid Rock where his real talents lay, as the balladeer of the double-wides instead of just another rap-rock provocateur. He still can’t sing, but at least he’s fleshed out his production beyond sampled guitars and functionless scratching. For some reason the fact that a doofy, largely talent-free schlub like him has become one of the staples of modern adult contemporary makes me unreasonably happy. As if there’s hope for all us schlubs.
Martin Skidmore: I like people to be restless, to try different styles, so points for that. This is countryish soft pop-rock, but unfortunately it ends up sounding like James Morrison.
Chuck Eddy: I appreciate how he’s following his old boss Kid Rock’s template of “scoring big unfashionable summer hits out of nowhere, a year after the album came out when some country radio station in Detroit (where nobody really understands what country music is) started playing them a lot, not to mention years after everybody wrote him off as a flash in the pan”. Also, the old Smash Mouth template of “being a fat slob who looks like your uncle but makes dumb happy hits that kindergarten teachers can play for kids”. None of which is to suggest this song’s any good, but I do like the “cooler than the flipside of my pillow” line.
Katherine St Asaph: How cynical is that pillow line, anyway? It’s like Uncle Kracker, bored and single-less, was browsing Facebook one day, stumbled upon one of those old “I Turn My Pillow Over To Get To The Cold Side” groups with millions of members, then wrote a song around it. Instant relatable gold!
Alfred Soto: I like how the melody allows me to make up any lyrics on the spot. Watch: “You smell like a ewe, you leave like a tree, I can’t believe what you’re doing to me.”
Michaelangelo Matos: I don’t like this that much, but I like it enough, which is where the shame comes in. It’s just so damn smooth — the tune more than anything. And I have to admit, I can’t resist his rhyming “live without ya” with “get around ya.”
Anthony Easton: