Keith a jingo star at hackneyed show

Spencer Patterson

Monday, Aug. 22, 2005 | 8:14 a.m.

A giant video screen broadcasted cartoonish footage of the country star -- and his trusty bulldog -- racing over rough terrain while being chased by UFOs.

The spot wasn't the least bit funny or clever, but the sold-out crowd of 9,500 ate it up.

Keith's fans laughed at his inane dialogue with his talking dog, applauded when his truck dragged down an alien spacecraft and even cheered when cameras focused in on the vehicle's Ford logo.

The remainder of Friday's show mirrored the opening spot. The popular headliner offered little of note musically, yet his faithful supporters basked in the malaise, many no doubt judging the 90-minute performance to have been momentous at night's end.

Keith's voice sounded rough and road-weary throughout, and he never demonstrated any guitar skills to speak of, mostly just strumming along when he had the instrument in his hands.

Apparently it was Keith's songs that enthralled the audience, and a dazzling bunch of tunes they were.

The 44-year-old ex-semipro defensive end sang about drinking. "Whiskey Girl" was about a girl who loves whiskey, and "I Love This Bar" was about, well, a guy who loves a bar.

The burly Oklahoman also sang about cheating, another longstanding country tradition. But where the genre's classics told tales of infidelity with a wink and a smile, Keith's heavy-handed "Stays in Mexico" left nothing to the imagination.

"He woke up in the morning and he made a little telephone call/To check on his wife and his kids back at home in Sioux Falls," went the tune, which nicked its chorus ("What happens in Mexico stays in Mexico") from Las Vegas' oft-repeated tourist campaign.

Inspiring stuff, especially coming out of the mouth of an 8-year-old girl near the front, who belted out every word.

Keith sang pompous, billowing new-country anthems, such as "Who's Your Daddy?", "I Wanna Talk About Me" and "How Do You Like Me Now?", which have about as much bite as Right Said Fred's "I'm Too Sexy."

And, of course, Keith sang about America. His encore was a double-shot of patriotism, pairing "American Soldier" with "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue (The Angry American)."

In the latter, Keith famously announced to the world that putting "a boot in yer ass" is the American way, and his fans reveled in that enlightened message Friday, anxiously awaiting the lyric and then passionately pumping their fists and singing along.

Keith deserves serious respect for traveling to forward combat zones in Afghanistan and Iraq to perform for U.S. troops rather than simply singing about them from the comfort of his home.

But did he really need to remind us that he does it, by rattling off a dozen or so of his USO appearance sites?

The move came across as an unneeded play for more applause, as did Keith's toasts to the military, police department, fire department and "the good 'ole U.S. of A." Is there really anyone out there who isn't going to cheer for the fire department?

Best song of the night honors go to "Beer for My Horses," mainly because Keith was accompanied by Willie Nelson's pumped-in, recorded vocals.

Worst song? Without question "The Taliban Song," a racist ditty ostensibly offering empathy for Afghani citizens oppressed by the Taliban regime.

"I've got a two-bedroom cave," Keith sang, presenting the number acoustically with songwriting partner Scotty Emerick. "Someday soon we're both gonna saddle up/And it'll be ride, camel ride."

Needless to say, it wouldn't have been difficult for either of Friday's two support acts to elevate above their headlining billmate.

But Lee Ann Womack celebrated her 39th birthday with a lackluster 40-minute set. Her Dolly Parton-esque voice came up shrill more than once, and she was overpowered much of the time by her band.

Opener Shooter Jennings -- son of outlaw legend Waylon Jennings -- also suffered because of poor sound, his band's mix loudly and abrasively greeting concert-goers as they filed into the arena.

All told, the show was a sad commentary on the state of modern country, a genre sustained by legions of fans far too willing to lap up weak songs and lifeless live performances.