Ted Nugent: State Of Shock : Music Reviews : Rolling Stone

Album Reviews

Some months ago, during the course of a telephone interview, Ted Nugent played me an unfinished cut from his upcoming slag-rock opus. He immodestly claimed that, upon completion, it would make the invention of the wheel seem slight by comparison. My first reaction to hearing the whole song ("Satisfied") on State of Shock was that it sounded better over the phone.

Of course, it depends on what you mean by better. What originally sounded like Terrible Ted's amplified growl turned out to be long-distance static obscuring a surprisingly clean production that isn't his usual style. The substance is identical: belligerent riffing, a subterranean bass, laughable lyrics about life as a rock & roll stud, and an impressive triple-tracked display of guitar feedback.

Yet the surface, polished by producers Lew Futterman and drummer Cliff Davies, is too shiny, too deliberately commercial, to be the work of the same maniac who split eardrums the world over with "Name Your Poison" on Weekend Warriors and the flagrantly misogynous "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang" on Cat Scratch Fever. As improbable as it may seem, the original heavy-metal heathen appears to be flying the flag of compromise on State of Shock, tempering his raw, rapacious sound with a pop sensibility designed to add to his denimed legions those disbelievers who think Ted Nugent isn't much more than a guitar-toting Neanderthal.

The telltale track is his Top Forty test drive of George Harrison's "I Want to Tell You," a saltier take than the Beatles' version on Revolver, but still atypically restrained by a trebly guitar riff that hangs in the melodic air alongside the sweet harmonies of Nugent and new lead singer Charlie Huhn. And sandwiched between such sensitive titles as "Bite Down Hard" and "Saddle Sore," there's a blues ballad called "Alone," written by the star in the aftermath of his recent divorce and obviously the work of a mature, more reflective Ted. That same Ted trots out the old wah-wah pedal for a psychotic solo in "Paralyzed" and keeps his rhythm section jumping in "It Doesn't Matter" and "Snake Charmer." But even these ravers seem tamer and less distorted than you'd expect.

Ted Nugent, for all his egotistic ranting, is no fire-breathing fool. He knows that FM radio won't play his records because it's not aesthetically sound to segue heavy-metal hymns into the comparatively sedate likes of Fleetwood Mac or Heart. So he forges a few catchy riffs, tones down his Teutonic roar a smidgen and reins in more fans without losing sight of his artistic goal: to make Saturday-night, six-pack rock that will shake, yea, even the entrance to the airwaves.

I first thought "Satisfied" sounded better over the phone, but I was wrong. Ted Nugent hasn't been tamed. He's just playing possum.