At a Lollapalooza performance at Pine Knob in Clarkston, Mich., almost three years ago, Smashing Pumpkins frontman Billy Corgan made what could have been a fatal mistake. During one of his nightly on-stage tirades, the singer/guitarist threw insults at one of Michigan's most beloved personalities - Ted Nugent. What Corgan didn't realize was that bashing Nugent, or "The Nuge," is not a laughing matter for many Michiganders. It may be difficult for outsiders to understand, but Nugent, the man who brought the world the guitar rock classics "Cat Scratch Fever" and "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang" is highly regarded and admired throughout the region; it is a rather strange phenomenon, actually.
Accounts of the show vary, from those who found the head Pumpkin's proclamation of "Fuck Ted Nugent" to be mildly amusing, to those who became irate and vowed to never listen to The Smashing Pumpkins again. Regardless, Corgan was allowed to leave the state alive, but the incident epitomized the love and devotion Michigan has for one of its local heroes, albeit a bow-hunting, long-hair free-spirit rock 'n' roller.
"I heard about that. That was cute," Nugent laughed, recalling the Corgan incident in a recent interview with The Michigan Daily. "I don't know what he said. I know he was trying to bash me, but I don't think that's possible in Detroit, is it? I wonder if Billy ever heard of the concept of backfiring? ... Foot-in-mouth is an epidemic in this country."
Backfire or not, it takes a bit more than having some mud slung his direction to get the 48-year-old wildman Nugent all riled up.
"Is he still alive or is he one of the dead ones?" Nugent asked in all sincerity regarding Corgan, mistakenly referring to Pumpkin keyboardist Jonathan Melvoin's death last year from a heroin overdose. "People said, 'Weren't you angry?' No, not at all. What do you think - that is going to anger me? A snarling rabid dog on my ankle wouldn't even anger me. I'd just shoot the son of a bitch and move forward."
A brazen attitude and a non-stop mouth are only a couple of reasons why Michigan's love for Nugent goes far beyond the gritty guitar riffs and raunchy lyrics of his notorious classic rock anthem "Cat Scratch Fever." It's hard for non-Michiganders to understand, but the Nuge is seen as a hero of sorts - a powerful spokesman who speaks his less-than-liberal mind in a way that infuriates, yet still manages to amuse those who disagree. On his daily radio show on Detroit's WWBR-FM, as a frequent guest on TV's "Politically Incorrect," or just last week, testifying before the U.S. Senate, Nugent is always ready to fight for the rights of hunting enthusiasts everywhere. A bowhunter extraordinaire and proud owner of Ted Nugent's Bowhunters' World, a hunting and gaming superstore in Jackson, Mich., Nugent's name has become almost more synonymous with the outdoors than with recording studios.
Residing on a piece of land in Jackson County, which he refers to as "The Swamps O' Nuge," the guitarist decided to remain in his native Michigan and raise his four children with his wife Shemane, away from the honky-tonk atmosphere of the city. He transmits his radio show from his barn and is only seconds away from his daily hunt.
"Beyond the pavement is where the spirit begins to soar," Nugent said.
Despite his country setting, The Motor City Madman (a self-proclaimed title the rocker originally used as a CB-radio handle while toting equipment across country with his first band, the Amboy Dukes, in the late '60s) leads anything but a quaint rural life. Musically, he's been playing around with former Van Halen singer Sammy Hagar, and his own band, Damn Yankees, and expects to release a new solo record later this year. Aside from the music, Nugent recently returned from testifying on public and private property rights in Washington, D.C. He's also writing his second book, editing and publishing Ted Nugent Adventure Outdoors Magazine, and is gearing up for the summer and the Ted Nugent Kamp For Kids, an outdoors camp run by the rock 'n' roll star who has been hunting since age five.
Then there's the radio show.
"If you have any spirit for adventure and creativity, you'll genuinely be moved," Nugent said. "The soul will be stirred by all things Nugent stimuli of sonic bombast radio. I'm so much fun, it's stupid. I'm the ultimate alarm clock. Consider me social commentary in suppository form."
On the "Ted Nugent Morning Show," or elsewhere on the airwaves, The Nuge is one of the country's most outspoken hunting advocates. With a long list of accolades and honorary recognitions from everyone from Gov. John Engler to Ronald Reagan, Nugent has made a career of standing for a lightly represented segment of the country's population.
"I enjoy representing beliefs that are continually pummeled by a leftist media that has a conspiratorial agenda to crush the free spirit and the soul of individuality," Nugent said. "For me to represent law-abiding gun owners as a member of the board of directors of the NRA and for me to represent a hunting culture that is pure in its organic relationship with Mother Earth, the media that typically lies and manipulates and gouges the perception of those elements that I represent, I couldn't be more proud to crush the opposition with my wit and intellect."
Attributing much of his immense popularity and fan base to his representation of conservative and common-man ideals, Nugent is still humble about his popularity.
"I don't think it's for me as much as it's for the things we believe in together, and that I not only have the audacity to speak up on politically incorrect points, but that I will fight vociferously and voluminously and tenaciously and gargantuoa-attitudily for those things that a lot of people feel are not given their just dues today," he said. "I know there's a respect, and I also know I piss a lot of people off. But I got news for you - if you don't piss off the assholes, guess what - you are one."
Nugent has always been vocal concerning his anti-drugs and anti-alcohol stance, stating he doesn't need anything but nature to get him high. As a national law enforcement spokesman for the Drug Abuse Resistance Education (D.A.R.E.) program, he spoke to kids about the dangers of drug and alcohol use.
"The Native Americans wouldn't be relying on Bingo if they wouldn't have smoked all that peyote. They would have won for god's sake," he said. "Words of wisdom from the Nuge to the hippies.
"Jimi got high, Jimi's dead. I went huntin', I'm still Ted," Nugent rhymed in his loose-lipped style. "Shout it from the mountaintop, catch me if you can. I'm too busy having fun. And my dick still gets hard. Thank you very much, have a nice safe drive."
The Nuge proudly displays his bounty after an eventful day of Michigan hunting.
Motor City Madman Ted Nugent plucks away at his guitar on the hood of a classic pick-up truck.
04-22-97
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