Stephen Thomas Erlewine (All Music Guide)

It's all about the title. First time around, Eminem established his alter-ego, Slim Shady — the character who deliberately shocked and offended millions, turning Eminem into a star. Second time at bat, he turned out The Marshall Mathers LP, delving deeper into his past while revealing complexity as an artist and a personality that helped bring him an even greater audience and much, much more controversy. Third time around, it's The Eminem Show — a title that signals that Eminem's public persona is front and center, for the very first time. And it is, as he spends much of the album commenting on the media circus that dominated on his life ever since the release of Marshall Mathers. This, of course, encompasses many, many familiar subjects — his troubled childhood; his hatred of his parents; his turbulent relationship with his ex-wife, Kim (including the notorious incident when he assaulted a guy who allegedly kissed her — the event that led to their divorce); his love of his daughter, Hailie; and, of course, all the controversy he generated, notably the furor over his alleged homophobia and his scolding from Lynne Cheney, which leads to furious criticism about the hypocrisy of America and its government. All this is married to a production very similar to that of its predecessor — spare, funky, fluid, and vibrant, punctuated with a couple of ballads along the way. So, that means The Eminem Show is essentially a holding pattern, but it's a glorious one — one that proves Eminem is the gold standard in pop music in 2002, delivering stylish, catchy, dense, funny, political music that rarely panders (apart from a power ballad "Dream On" rewrite on "Sing for the Moment" and maybe the sex rap "Drips," that is). Even if there is little new ground broken, the presentation is exceptional — Dre never sounds better as a producer than when Eminem pushes him forward (witness the stunning oddity "Square Dance," a left-field classic with an ominous waltz beat) and, with three albums under his belt, Eminem has proven himself to be one of the all-time classic MCs, surprising as much with his delivery as with what he says. Plus, the undercurrent of political anger — not just attacking Lynne Cheney, but raising questions about the Bush administration — gives depth to his typical topics, adding a new, spirited dimension to his shock tactics as notable as the deep sentimental streak he reveals on his odes to his daughter. Perhaps the album runs a little too long at 20 songs and 80 minutes and would have flowed better if trimmed by 25 minutes, but that's a typical complaint about modern hip-hop records. Fact is, it still delivers more great music than most of its peers in rock or rap, and is further proof that Eminem is an artist of considerable range and dimension.

Amy Linden (Amazon.com)

Any lingering doubts as to the depth of Eminem's skills or his potential for raw yet compelling honesty are dispelled on The Eminem Show's first track. Armed with a quicksilver flow and a thundering rhythm track (the record was exec produced by longtime mentor and partner Dr. Dre), "White America" finds Eminem ferociously mauling the hand that feeds him, lambasting his critics, the industry, and the racism that, in many ways, helped make Marshall Mathers more than just another rapper. "Let's do the math," Em sneers, "If I was black I would have sold half/ I could be one of your kids/ Little Eric looks just like this." After the bombast of The Marshall Mathers LP and Eminem's well-noted use of sexual epithets, this kind of material is made more controversial because it actually rings true. From a brutal retort to his long-estranged and equally troubled mother ("Cleaning Out My Closets") to a surprisingly tender ode to his child ("Hailie's Song"), Eminem examines his life, loves, arrests, addictions, failures, and successes with surprising insight, making this a funk-drenched hip-hop confessional well worth the hype.

Ron Hart (Barnes & Noble)

On his third consecutive gem, Eminem taps into his Detroit Rock City roots and unleashes his inner White Panther, delivering his most abrasive collection of songs to date. The Eminem Show, produced largely by Em himself, finds the formerly Shady one letting go of the cartoonish thump he perfected with Dr. Dre in favor of a grittier sound befitting an artist who shares a hometown with Iggy Pop and the MC5. What hasn't changed, however, are his venomous lyrical assaults, and along with his perennial targets (his mom and his ex), new casualties include hip-hop producer Jermaine Dupri, 'N Sync's Chris Kirkpatrick, dance music wiz Moby, and Vice President Dick Cheney's wife. And while fans are accustomed to Mr. Mathers bashing both public and private citizens, mixed in with the latest chapters in his screed is some of the most candidly raw rhetoric of his short but momentous career. Tracks such as "Cleanin' Out My Closet" and the ballad "Hailie's Song," where Em makes a noble yet off-kilter attempt at singing, are examples of the artist's ever-intensifying reality theater, while "White America" and "Till I Collapse" display his newfound mastery of rap-rock fusion. Although they'll probably receive the most hype, "Sing for the Moment," a remake of the Aerosmith lighter anthem "Dream On," and the lead single, "Without Me," pale in comparison to show-stoppers such as the swinging "Square Dance" and "My Dad's Gone Crazy," quite possibly the funniest song in the Em canon. Forget the real Slim Shady -- The Eminem Show presents the real Eminem standing up front-and-center.

(CD Universe)

Personnel includes: Eminem (rap vocals); Nate Dogg, Dr. Dre, Obie Trice, Hailie Jade, D-12, Dina Rae. THE EMINEM SHOW won the 2003 Grammy Award for Best Rap Album. THE EMINEM SHOW was nominated for the 2003 Grammy Award for Album Of The Year. "Without Me" was nominated for the 2003 Grammy Awards for Record Of The Year and Best Male Rap Solo Performance.

As one of the most controversial figures in hip-hop history, Eminem can be forgiven for being somewhat self-obsessed. THE EMINEM SHOW's opening cut "White America" sums up the notorious rapper's self-defense by keenly observing that while the color of his skin has something to do with his widespread popularity it's also the reason his lyrics are examined so scrupulously by critics who otherwise wouldn't bother. "I could be one of your kids" he proclaims, getting right to the heart of the matter. Despite the abundance of introspection, Eminem doesn't back up a single step on any of the themes that made him such a hot property. He's still into glorifying violence, as on "Soldier" one of the many cuts where he waves his broken-home/dysfunctional upbringing like a flag to justify the hatred that seeps from every pore of THE EMINEM SHOW. Over the course of the album, he threatens to brutally murder so many members of his family that one begins to lose track, but this is just the kind of hard-ass image that's helped make him an icon. The aforementioned cut finds the former Marshall Mathers making one of his most telling statements; "I'll never be Marshall again." It's clear that the Eminem identity allows him to fully vent his rage and get lauded (by some) for it instead of imprisoned. In his continuing effort to show that he's as hardcore as any black rapper, he extends his rancor Professor Griff-stye to Jews on the skits "Paul Rosenberg" and "Steve Berman," the latter of whom we hear getting shot for whiningly taking Em's music to task. Love him or hate him, Eminem makes no apologies, and THE EMINEM SHOW is as strong a statement as he's made to date.

Lisa Hageman (CMJ New Music Report, issue 768, June 24, 2002)

Since 1.3 million copies of this CD were sold in its debut week, any more press is unnecessary, but we digress. It's been two years since the real Slim Shady's last record dropped, and it's obvious he hasn't grown out of his me-against-the-world angst. The confessional The Eminem Show is jam-packed with the same vitriol that made Eminem a household name to begin with. We're all now quite familiar with his hatred of his mother, father, ex-wife, the government, et al, and here it comes again - although now his lyrics document his legendary trials (literally) and tribulations. He hasn't really worked through his anger, and why should he? It worked so well for him the last time that he isn't about to back down now. Yet when it works, it works - case in point being the infectious lead single, "Without Me." Em takes more of the production credit here, which renders Dre-touched tracks like "Business" and "My Dad's Gone Crazy," a bit more musically interesting (and a tad less dark) than the rest. Em's flow on cuts like "Square Dance" highlights the fact that, despite all the negativity, this MC has got skills. No one - not the FCC, parents, religious groups nor Kim Mathers herself - can deny him that.

Ian Watson (DOT Music)

Can it be mere coincidence that the third Eminem album hits the streets in the same week that the third series of Big Brother begins its hijack of British popular culture? The similarities are startling. Two established voyeuristic formats with guaranteed results. Both surrounded by a media frenzy that ensures we know every last microscopic detail about the subjects the split second they occur. There are no surprises just inevitabilities; familiar guilty pleasures waiting to happen. Two fools that fall in love. One will run through his usual gamut of hate.
Marshall Mathers III knows this, of course, which is why the title of album three tips a subtle, knowing nod to the ultimate reality project, The Truman Show. But if he was being truly honest, he would have found some way to twist a pun out of Groundhog Day. Because, like Bill Murray's character who's doomed to live out the same nightmare again and again (and like Jim Carrey's who is stuck in a suburban purgatory), Marshall is trapped within the character of Eminem.
Consider the evidence. In 'Cleanin Out My Closet', he unleashes an astonishingly corrosive torrent of hatred towards his parents, saying "I've got some skeletons in my closet/and I don't know if no-one knows it", but the fact is we've heard the story repeated for years now. Other themes: loathes his wife (check), feels persecuted by critics and the authorities (we know), is the voice of white America (heard it), is here to save hip-hop (yep), blahdeblahdenananana (uh-huh).
This isn't laziness on Marshall's part, though. He literally has no choice but to bounce off the same ideas, to attack the usual suspects. "I've created a monster," he says on 'Without Me', "no one wants to see Marshall anymore". On 'Say Goodbye To Hollywood', he's more explicit. "No one puts a grasp on the fact that I sacrificed everything I had," he says referring to privacy, dignity, stability, happiness, sanity even. "If I could go back/I never would have rapped."
Make no mistake, no one on this planet would last five seconds being Eminem, let alone Marshall Mathers III. The world he inhabits is a twisted, cruel, horrific place, even if what we see of it is simply entertainment. On 'When The Music Stops', he outlines the perks of the position: "no laughs, no friends, no girl, just the gin you drink". On 'Superman', his attitude towards women is appalling, but this isn't dumb, kneejerk sexism, it's ingrained, full grade misogyny. He f**king hates, mistrusts, undervalues and fears every girl on the planet save his daughter, always haunted by his mother and ex-wife. At times, he sounds like Norman Bates. At others, he is unforgivable: "I'll put anthrax on your tampax and slap you til you can't stand."
Violence underpins this record in the same way the death of a loved one taints your soul forever. Having been accused of pistol-whipping a love rival in a parking lot, Marshall revels in gunplay, often glorifying and sermonising in the same song. 'Soldier' is an exercise in machismo, Marshall declaring that he has an "obligation" to his image to be a glock-toting idiot and that "being reasonable will leave you full of bullets". Elsewhere he says "the best thing I ever did was take the bullets out of the gun because I would have killed them". And on 'When The Music Stops' he reaches the only possible conclusion pointing the gun to his own head and pulling the trigger.
That's the grand tease of this album of course. On several songs, Marshall hints that he doesn't plan on being Eminem for much longer. He's 28 now and in 'Soldier' he says "the fire inside expires at 30". He needs to get "his feet on solid ground" he raps in 'Say Goodbye To Hollywood', needs a respite from being in the Big Brother World 24/7. "I don't wanna quit but shit this is sick." "I just want to leave this game with level head intact". There are even two references to suicide on the album one via pills in 'Hollywood' and the gunshot outlined above.
Where could he go, what could he do, if he wasn't Slim Shady, the trailer trash kid that America loves to hate? Well, he could become Senator Shady and use his obvious, fierce intelligence for some political good. It may sound crazy, but 'White America' is a sharp swipe at the double standards of US society, in which he "spits liquor in the face of this democracy of hypocrisy". 'Square Dance', meanwhile, mounts a slightly more muddled attack on the war on terrorism, with Marshall declaring he plans to "ambush the Bush administration" but concluding that "I say Hussein, you say Shady", so really it's just all about him.
Which is where we came in. You know what's going to happen in this latest series of Big Brother. You've seen it all before. But still you're drawn to the TV set, sucked in by the drama, obsessed by the press cuttings. And, hey, whaddya know? Marshall Mathers has the talent and sheer force of personality to rap his shopping list and diary of business appointments during the last tax month of 2002 and still we're hooked. We've heard it all before, we know the punchline, we've bought into the joke, but still we want the delivery again and again. "I sold my soul to the devil and I'm never getting it back." If those words aren't engraved on Marshall Mathers III's tombstone, the world is more f**ked up than you can possibly imagine.

Mike Ross (Edmonton Sun / JAM! Music, May 25, 2002)

It was shocking once. Actually, it was shocking a second time, too. But a third time hearing Eminem viciously diss his ex-wife on record is starting to get old. Get over it, man! 
The white rapper's third album (in stores a week early on Tuesday because it got out on the Net) is like watching Halloween III. You needn't have watched the first two to understand it. 
Shall we review? This white suburban kid from Detroit with a big chip on his shoulder makes a huge splash by not censoring any twisted thought that pops into his little brain. He also happens to have the gift of rhyme and a crucial friend in producer Dr. Dre. Voila! Rap superstar. Nothing new, but as Eminem points out here, "If I was black, I would've sold half." 
This album is more of the same - more misogyny, more outrageous boasts, more violent thoughts, more gangsta gunplay, more pointed criticism of the American police state and swelling military-industrial complex in the wake of Sept. 11. Well ... maybe he's maturing. Egad. Talk about shocking. Still, it seems that outrageous exaggeration used merely to get a rise out of people has been replaced by simple, brutal honesty. What's revealed is a whiner of the highest order. 
In one autobiographical rant after another, Eminem disses Dick Cheney, Tipper Gore, George Bush, music critics, naysayers and basically anyone who ever looked at him sideways. He whines about how hard it is to be famous. He whines about needing to carry a gun. He whines about the sorry state of rap music in general. He whines about his difficult childhood. Yes, his family members once again bear the brunt of his wrath. His own mother is a "selfish bitch" whose granddaughter "won't even be at your funeral," he spits. Some issues here. 
As for the other woman who done him wrong, "The smartest thing that I did was to take the bullets out of that gun, 'cause I'd of killed them. I would've shot Kim and him both." He just won't let it alone. Several tracks carry the same basic theme, including Hailie's Song, which is supposed to be for his daughter. The poor kid doesn't need this kind of broken family baggage. 
This guy really ought to write a book - or see a shrink.

Alex Needham (NewMusicalExpress)

The sleeve of 'The Eminem Show' sees our anti-hero pensive, in a dinner jacket, just out of the spotlight as the red velvet curtains open. "What the fuck," you can almost hear him thinking, "am I going to do for an encore?" 
Eminem's last album, 2000's 'The Marshall Mathers LP', made him nothing less than the biggest and best pop star in the world. A true artist, no one since Kurt has raged so hard and articulately, no-one since - Bowie has played with their persona with more intelligence, and no-one since the Sex Pistols has pissed more people off. To do all this, and to do it while selling millions of records to the disenfranchised, supposedly dumbed down "little hellions" he always wanted to reach, is about as much as any musician could hope for. 
Eminem's career is now all about extending that high. Part of the power of 'The Marshall Mathers LP' was that it seemed to come from nowhere - certainly it was a quantum leap from his 1999 debut. Fame and familiarity means that Eminem can never pull that trick off again, but he can improve his music, find new things to talk about, refine his amazing flow. 'The Eminem Show' sees Marshall Mathers doing all these things, backing away from the scorched-earth nihilism of his last album towards a more personal, vulnerable, even - gulp - mature artistic vision. 
Not that this means he's gone soft, mind. On 'My Dad's Gone Crazy', Eminem responds to his mom's advice 'if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything' like this: "…lick/A million motherfucking cocks per second/I'd rather make a motherfucking gospel record". And 'The Eminem Show' sees the rapper saying a great deal of not-very-nice things: about groupies ("put anthrax on a Tampax and slap you 'til you can't stand"), his mother ("I hope you fucking burn in hell"), his ex-wife ("addicted to smack"), his father ("just fucking wish he would die"), as well as lesser targets George Bush, R Kelly, Canibus, Jermaine Dupri, Limp Bizkit and Moby. Even his expressions of affection are obnoxious. Though it's partially masked (the only censored line on the album), on 'Hailie's Song', an otherwise tender eulogy to his daughter, Eminem clearly raps the line "I'm so glad her mom didn't abort her". Gay campaigners, however, can claim a victory. While 'The Marshall Mathers LP' was full of vituperative remarks about homosexuals, 'The Eminem Show' contains just a couple of "faggots" and on its last track, the claim "I'm out the closet, I've been lying my ass off/All this time, me and Dre been fucking with hats [condoms] off". 
However, the majority of 'The Eminem Show' is preoccupied with Mathers' fame and family situation. We get plenty on the lawsuits and, on 'Cleaning Out My Closet', a stunning outpouring of grief-stricken anger against his mother. Though often hidden by strident beats and Eminem's ferocious articulacy, the album's recurrent emotion is the loneliness created by fame, money, and failed relationships. As the panic-stricken rap on 'Say Goodbye Hollywood' has it, "It's like the boy in the bubble who never could adapt /I've sold my soul to the devil, I ain't never get it back…/All I wanted was to give Hailie the life I never had/Instead, I forced us to live alienated". 
Musically, though, things have never looked brighter. 'The Eminem Show' is bigger, bolder and far more consistent than its predecessors, tackling disco ('Without Me'), bombastic funk ('Til I Collapse'), Dirty South-style hip-hop (the amazing 'Squaredance') and rock ('White America') with aplomb. In short, it's a third album that avoids all the pitfalls of third albums: introspective without being self-pitying, expansive in scope without being pompous, exploring new directions without disappearing up its own arse. Its genius is mighty, its flaws are small. It's the greatest 'Show' on earth.

Ethan P. (Pitchfork Media, June 4, 2002)

Ryan loves it and he likes Marshall Matters LP too so he's all sonning me now with this 'well Ethan yes perhaps I'd allow you to give the Marshall Mathers LP a 10.0, I mean that particular record was perfect, but not this one' yeah well you were busy talking about at the motherfucking drive in back then so let me redeem your godawful site now. Jeez unless he went back on his dumb-ass 'policy' theres a nine dot one up there but I promise you 'The Eminem Show' is really a ten, know that oh my darling Eminem! how i love you Marshall, spittin shiny massive magnetic acrostics to fit the thrillest rhyme style ever invented (ugh yeah i'm trying not to explain his quote unquote flow in those meaningless autechre words like architectural and labyrinthine but SHIT) but yeah although Em's lyrics arent usually quotably evocative for rock reviews like Wu or Jay here I'm not even going to try, you have to hear him spit at it live or on record that said he's playing the same old Marshall vs Shady real-or-fake game as usual (stage-y red curtain album cover referencing 'Smarmy' faux-soul masterpiece lexicon of love!?!) and its as interesting and complex as it ever was but that wasnt what I came to the Shady table for in the first place and you know all about it anyway from spin so lets pretend not to care 
instead let me tell a story this one time I was listening to Eminem, and 
haha no he's complicated you know Eminem i mean but no no no this is more than usual like he pukes up the nastiest song about mother Mathers ever but loves Hailie lots and meanwhile metamorphasizes into a grown-ass woman 'on the rag and ovulating' making us listen to Queen and Aerosmith and and AND THEN him and Dre have been 'fucking with hats off' all along!! (after this ahem revelation Dre deadpans 'suck it, Marshall') uh in a normal pfork review there would be some more bullshit here all like 'ha ha he makes fun of that stupid trl but he's on it!!' or like 'his rapping style is a direct copy of gab from blackalicious' like yeah dude Timbaland is biting Aphex Twins white ass too haha I dunno fuck it here are some more bullshit things about the actual record like right on schedule Pfork review style ahem track one 
White America 
after a tender orchestral prelude (lexicon of love again) these like big silver jets fly overhead and lame Linkin Park riffs rev up and Eminem 'finally' addresses the race issue telling us a bunch of shit we already knew about in his labored 'the way I am' style (with only a marginally better chorus than that grr) haha later he gets crunk and actually says 'Whodi' on the bounciriffic everlast-dreams-about-the-big-tymers 'superman'!! (fake southern accents are the new black italiano you know) also on Hailies song he sings and its not great but like better than mos def first in a series - people your fake Indie ass will mention in a lame rock critic attempt to legitimize Eminem: Screamin' Jay Hawkins 'business' is cartoon-beat chase scene Batman & Robin like all the early singles but this time he's actually talking about Batman and Robin!! (a running theme of the entire record for some wonderful reason) 
I adore the plasticky genital mutilation pornography and hilarious Cronenberg AIDS horrors of 'drips' and anxiously await the Obie Trice record but more than that I love Hailie Jade on 'my dad's gone crazy' which is like this saccharine-sweetened lemon incest gone faggy (eminem may have finally torn down the old gangsta wont-touches of mama and Jesus off the wall to beat the shit out them both but dude still loves his baby girl!) 
and the sleazy disco of 'without me' 'the press' wet dream like Bobby and Whitney'! 'cleaning out my closet' takes the childhood hell of 'all I've got is you' and turns all that emotional vunerability into righteous articulated fury at his 'goin though public housin systems, victim of munchausens syndrome'(!!) mama. 
hey 
a thought 
Eminem is gay 
proof: 
the him fucking Dre thing 
dyeing your hair and wearing earrings thing from the Aerosmith song 
or Hailie being 'the only lady he adores' 
sleazy disco 
little Eric and Erica 
Dre is Batman and he's the Burt Ward Robin 
etc 
okay at this point I'm just gonna put in shit to see if Ryan will really not edit this like he said so like if you're reading this sentence then wow I really got an unedited review on pfork 
haha i bet he cuts my columbine refs 
uh in conclusion.... 
Ryanpitch4k : Ethan, i'm gonna edit it anyway, you're lucky I'm gonna go over it with you
et HAN P2 3 : lets not be some fucking review factory Ryan
Ryanpitch4k : Ethan you know as well as I do that it IS a factory, which is why it gets no respect from industry/"real" journalists 
but later... 
Ryanpitch4k : what? ok, I'm an Indie pussy. I consider the music I listen to "above" and "better than" pop music. that's MY opinion 
and then.... 
Ryanpitch4k : look, Ethan, you know what? I just have a feeling we're not going to agree about this. I think it's fine for us to not agree, but I don't think you would like changes I would want to make. you're really incredibly high-maintenence as reviewers go, and I'm not completely sure it's even worth it 
and yes finally.... 
Ryanpitch4k : ethan you act like I don't know what you're capable of
et HAN P2 3 : but what would be the worst that could happen
et HAN P2 3 : what am I capable of??
Ryanpitch4k : you'll get away with anything you can
Ryanpitch4k : the more you get away with the happier you are 
Eminem is great!!

Dorian Lynskey (Q Magazine, June 2002)

Discussing his novel Choke last year, Fight Club author Chuck Palahniuk bade farewell to nihilism, arguing, "You can spend your life tearing down the culture but at some point you’ve got to move on and stand for something." On his third album, the world’s biggest rapper is tentatively undergoing a similar transition, albeit one tempered by his own phenomenal narcissism. As Without Me’s chorus of "The world’s so empty without me" jokingly acknowledges, he is incapable of finding lyrical inspiration beyond his own personal orbit. The solution: say it once more, with feeling.
With The Eminem Show, Marshall Mathers III finally attempts to carve out some kind of morality from his oft-rehearsed woes and it’s one that, ironically, Eminem-bashers Lynne Cheney and Tipper Gore would condone: look after your kids. It’s not hard to connect Cleaning Out My Closet’s blistering filial rage ("You selfish bitch, I hope you fucking burn in hell for this shit") with his assertion, on apoplectic state-of-the-nation address White America, that "I could be one of your kids". Sing For The Moment, meanwhile, zooms in on a tormented, fatherless, suburban teen, its appropriation of Aerosmith’s power-ballad Dream On signalling a burgeoning sentimental streak as Eminem nears 30.
The third plank of his campaign for better parenting is his own daughter Hailie. While Chris Rock’s quip about rappers who seek acclaim simply for being decent parents ("What do you want? A cookie?") springs to mind, Eminem’s passionate presentation of fatherhood as an emotional anchor is real enough. He even sings, with unexpected sweetness, on Hailie’s Song, although enlisting her vocals on the tar-black comedy of My Dad’s Gone Crazy suggests his concept of paternal protectiveness is somewhat unique.
There is much to admire here: Eminem’s bristling, gothic production (which outshines Dre’s contributions), his high-velocity lyrical overload (you can practically feel the spittle on Till I Collapse) and his acute self-awareness ("If I was black I would have sold half"). The only problem is Slim Shady. As Eminem outgrows his old alter-id, so the obligatory pantomime villainy, skits and crass cameos by Shady Records signings become a hindrance, fuelling his critics and undermining his valid points. Marshall Mathers is trying, in his muddled way, to stand for something. So would the real Slim Shady please sit down?

Kris Ex (RollingStone, issue 899/900, July 4, 2002)

With The Eminem Show, Eminem just may have made the best rap-rock album in history. And that's not only because he reworks Aerosmith's "Dream On," on "Sing for the Moment." The Eminem Show is a hybrid theory of Jay-Z's hyperconfident The Blueprint, Staind's pained Dysfunction and Tupac's anti-hero masterpiece All Eyez On Me. The Eminem Show has the self-assurance of an artist at the top of his game and the game, the understanding that the music world is hanging on his every word and the willingness to shock even the most jaded ears. 
Appropriately enough for a man closing in on thirty, The Eminem Show finds Eminem more mature and focused, if not kinder and gentler. "Without Me" -- like his "The Real Slim Shady," the leadoff single from 2000's The Marshall Mathers LP -- is a fun-loving, barb-laden romp on which he flits from one topic to the next like a bumblebee with ADD. But Em isn't saying things just to get you mad here. This time he's rapping because the world has pissed him off, not the other way around. "If y'all leave me alone, this wouldn't be my M.O.," he says on "My Dad's Gone Crazy." 
On The Eminem Show, Eminem is no longer pulling the race card just for laughs. "I am the worst thing since Elvis Presley," he raps. "To do black music so selfishly/And use it to get myself wealthy." He's being a little harsh on himself: After all, the only white folks really doing white music are strumming harps and blowing bagpipes. But as always, Em's most potent weapon is his ability to counter his critics by accepting his vulnerabilities and turning them into song fodder. 
Em produced or co-produced most of the album, and he's quickly becoming an expert beatmaker. Every track has some sort of melodic edge; songs such as "White America" and "Cleanin Out My Closet" feature electric-guitar rhythms fraternizing with hip-hop-sensible drum patterns. "Soldier" and " 'Till I Collapse" are all paranoid horror-movie instrumentation bottomed with arena-rock grandeur. He's learned so much so well as a producer that Dr. Dre's three contributions ("Business," "Say What You Say," "My Dad's Gone Crazy") are hard to pick out without production credits. 
On the rock-fueled "White America," he confesses that "if I was black, I woulda sold half." But even as he remains acutely aware of his position as a big-time white rapper, Eminem fully enters the fray of mainstream hip-hop on The Eminem Show. He's moved on from dissing Everlast and Britney Spears and is unafraid to take on credible black MCs now, dissing Canibus on "Square Dance" and egging on Dr. Dre against Jermaine Dupri on "Say What You Say." On "Business," Em names himself the gatekeeper of hip-hop and obliquely claims to be the best rapper alive: "The flow's too wet/Nobody close to it/Nobody says it, but everybody knows the shit." His way with words and his sheer honesty can make topics that would otherwise seem so last week sound new. "Say Goodbye Hollywood" is the standard mo' money, mo' problems fare given new life; "Drips" is hip-hop's most poignant visit to the STD clinic since Ice Cube's 1991 song "Look Who's Burnin'." 
Predictably, the three women in Eminem's life figure big on The Eminem Show. His divorce from Kim Mathers fuels the slow Southern bounce of the hypermisogynist "Superman," and his relationship with his estranged mother creates "Cleanin Out My Closet," possibly the record's most powerful moment. Amid a list of atrocities and venomous threats, he shows glimmers of remorse before delving back into unchecked anger, much as he did on 2000's "Kim." "See, what hurts me the most is you won't admit you was wrong," he raps before blasting, "but how dare you try to take what you didn't help me to get?/You selfish bitch, I hope you fuckin' burn in hell for this shit." 
Em's love for his daughter, Hailie, produces his singing debut, the tender "Hailie's Song." The tune's sweet message is stronger than the music, as Em reaches for notes that don't exist. A more effective moment comes when Hailie herself shows up to kick-start the chorus of the ridiculously catchy "My Dad's Gone Crazy." It's a guilty pleasure, knowing that Hailie's participation in the song is probably going to earn her a couple of years of therapy: The song begins with Hailie walking in on her dad as he inhales lines of coke. 
As unlikely a role model as Em is, he has decided to take on the U.S. government -- more proof, during this era of post-9/11 patriotism, that he truly follows his own course. On "White America," Em threatens to march on Capitol Hill, urinate on the White House grass and burn the star-spangled banner, and he attacks current and former vice-presidential wives Lynne Cheney and Tipper Gore. On "Square Dance," he announces, "Yeah, the man's back/With a plan to ambush this Bush administration/Mush the Senate's face in/Push this generation of kids to stand and fight/For the right to say something you might not like." Finally, in his own scattered way, in his own mind, at least, Eminem is fighting for something a little bigger than himself. The Eminem Show makes it clear that Mr. Just-Don't-Give-a-Fuck still won't leave. He can't leave rap alone. The game needs him.

© Frank Steven Groen