Seems like Ted Nugent has always been one to believe his own press releases. Despite having a career sinking faster than the Titanic, he pressed on with his solo career, leaving Epic Records after nearly a decade and signing with Atlantic. Apparently, Nugent believed he was still capable of writing catchy songs which would convey his own personal and political views and win over zillions of fans.
But one listen to
Nugent, his 1982 release, and one can see a truth blatantly
obvious to everyone except Nugent himself: he was entirely out of
touch with musical reality, and was cranking out absolute dreck if
only to satisfy his own ego.
You'd think that reuniting with Derek St. Holmes, who was an intregal part of Nugent's band for the first few albums, would be enough to spur him on to writing and recording an album of at least halfway decent songs. Think again, buckeroo. The songwriting on this disc is weaker than month-old coffee, the guitar work is almost non-existent (especially Nugent's fiery solos), and the overall message is trite and occasionally offensive, even by Nugent's standards.
After getting off to a halfway decent start with "No, No, No," Nugent quickly falls into misguided patriotism with the song "Bound And Gagged," where he goes off against fundamentalists taking our citizens hostage. One almost finds themselves wishing that Reagan had offered Nugent to Islamic Jihad in trade. (Probably a good thing it didn't happen; the terrorists wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise in the hostage video.) Four words, Ted: shut the fuck up .
More often than not, the songs on Nugent sound like third-generation studio throwaways - tracks that wouldn't even make the budget-buy box set after a group had broken up. Songs like "Fightin' Words," "Don't Push Me," "We're Gonna Rock Tonight" and "Habitual Offender" all stink like last week's fish. (Nugent even goes so far as to recycle an AC/DC guitar lick on "Fightin' Words" - yeesh.)
Nugent's songwriting even dares to explore an interracial relationship - as told in the pages of Hustler - on "Ebony," a song which had to have set race relations back at least a decade.
Only at the end of the disc with "Tailgunner" does any semblance of hope seem to return to the scene, but by then it's much too little, far too late. By then, Nugent seems to prove what everyone except the Motor City Madman had anticipated - namely, Nugent's time as a superstar was over. Pass on this one… you won't regret it.