"Rap metal," they said. "Tell me who?" I said. "Kid Rock," they said. "Oh," I said.

So yes, the fate of reviewing some churned-up demos and 1993 album fillers, also known as The History Of Rock, was handed to me, the (supposed) only person in the entire office with a remote interest in metal.

The Condemning Voice-over, the constant lyrical references to "ho's" and LSD, the remarkably similar rhythms in every song, and the fact that he spells his name ("K-I-D R-O-C-K") at every given opportunity curdle together in this weak, self-indulgent manual on how to be a rock star.

But, to my horror - and somewhat baffled amusement - this guy has (as he explains in his aural Curriculum Vitae, 'American Bad Ass') gone seven times platinum. Go figure.

In effect, The History Of Rock is a poor attempt at a musical biography that will probably sell truckloads to white American 14-year-old rebels.