Sure, Nickelback’s heavily commercial stadium rock, which takes the vague gravel of the Nineties subgenre of grunge, but casts aside the majority of its grit, isn’t for everyone. Lyrics such as “I’ll have the quesadilla, haha!” (Rockstar) and “Humpty Dumpty, do your thing/Daddy’s gonna buy you a diamond ring” (Must Be Nice) are hardly a shoo-in for the Pulitzer Prize, but is that the worst thing in the world?
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