Outside of perhaps the Black Eyed Peas, no other band illustrates the divide between critics and the masses better than Nickelback. Though they are unequivocally one of the best-selling bands of their time, the Canadian hard-rock group attracts scathing reviews that seem to grow more vicious with each year. Some of the objections from critics are principled. Writers scorn the band not only for their recycled riffs and for Chad Kroeger’s ugly vocals, but also for the band’s reckless mix of misogyny and masculine anger. In song after song, Kroeger pines for slutty women while simultaneously deriding them for their loose morals, in an authoritative growl that suggests he might raise a fist to them. Critics’ hatred of the band isn’t purely moral, though. In truth, there are other, far more misogynistic post-grunge bands than Nickelback—the leaders of Seether and Theory of a Deadman, for instance, make Kroeger seem like the type of guy you’d let date your daughter by comparison—yet critics single out Nickelback in particular because, as the most successful of their breed, they are the poster-children for this brand of testosterone-slimed, radio-polished commercial rock, one of the most reviled sounds of its time.
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