Eminem - The Marshall Mathers LP 2

It is a generally held belief that it has now been over a decade since Eminem made a great album. 2010's Recovery was probably the lowest of the low, and I haven't quite shaken off that Haddaway sample. When I saw the tracklisting for this, his eighth LP, I was a little mortified to see another spot for Rihanna (after that year's excruciating overplaying of Love the Way You Lie) and then appearances from Nate Ruess (of 2012's most annoying band fun. fame) and Skylar Grey (who I've yet to hear anything memorable from). And his public appearances, interviews and performances on TV this year have, as usual, been a little bit straightfaced and serious when social media calls out for either a sense of humour or a sense of controversy to get a level of excitement about a big name's new release. So I must admit that I wasn't exactly looking forward to TMMLP2.

I suppose that in a music climate that's seeing all sorts of weird directions for rap, I, and some of the rest of the world, began to neglect Eminem. With acts like Kendrick Lamar, Madvillain, Lupe Fiasco, Kid Cudi, Death Grips and Killer Mike all getting started since The Eminem Show (oh and Kanye, I suppose - seems he's been around longer though) there's been a demand for more from MCs than just the usual beats and verses. As Eminem grew poppier, the fans reacted badly, and the canny decision to revisit his greatest work The Marshall Mathers LP was made. Whether or not it's a case of surface-level nostalgia, it needs desperately to excite people again.

Some things never change with Eminem and a lot of TMMLP2 is spent vowing that this endeavour will be his last, mostly out of exhaustion and general vitriol: there's a grandiose "Behold the final chapter in the saga" statement on 'Bad Guy' but it might be more accurate to say this is closure for his upbringing. And, as luck should have it, with his childhood house set fire to earlier this month, this is ideal timing. The album's opener, a slow-burner, might look daunting at a tracklength of 7:14, but after the subdued first three minutes we're already witnessing explosions. Homages to his career highlights Stan and Kim are made with the usual murder-fantasies and as his delivery gets more potent the lyrics get more deadly (although one can't help but remind oneself that it's just an act: he might vow to drive Frank Ocean off a bridge - "hope you can swim good!" - but he does it by addressing himself afterwards "now say you hate homos again!") The criticism is a lot more intense this time around regarding the misogynist and homophobic content of his lyrics, and the cynicism about it just being inserted to get attention is also a little bit disappointing giving his actual talent, but performing from a mantle of "damaged goods" could, arguably, prove his own tolerance through provoking a disgusted reaction in the listener. Maybe that's naive, maybe he really does want to drive women off bridges, but can we please move on? I mean criticising Eminem for wanting to "kill faggots" on a song called Bad Guy is like calling Christina a slut for just wanting to "love your body".

He's running from the cops, shooting dogs and himself on 'Parking Lot Skit' before the unmistakeable Zombies' Time of the Season gets a prominent going-over on 'Rhyme or Reason'. 'Survival' and 'So Much Better' breeze by with not much in the way of production, although a couple of one-liners are quite amusing ("But I'll never say the L-word again/ I la-la-la-la lesbian!"; the ending, spoken "I'm just playing, bitch - you know I love you"). Survival in particular is a massive letdown and it doesn't help when it's rubbed in your face ten times a day by Call of Duty adverts. That formula of pretty-female-vocalist countermeasuring his rants seeps into 'Legacy' and 'Asshole' (the former is total vanilla, the latter an engaging, fun bowl of self-referencing that sees him a bit embarrassed - "If anyone ever talks to one of my little girls like this I would kill him" - and a bit cocky - "Every time you mention a lyric, I thank you for it/ For drawing more attention toward it"). Grey's interrupting chorus of "everybody knows that you're just an asshole" actually serves as a (possibly unintentional?) joke in itself. It's not the only eyecatching collaboration: Rick Rubin's ear for delicious nostalgia makes 'Berzerk' a frantic, rocking comeback that seems to divide opinion. I'm a fan; it's totally overstated and a nice tribute to the Beastie Boys.

If you think that's overstated though, 'Rap God' comes along and... well, the aftermath is basically hurricane damage. I don't think I'll ever get my head around it; he gets 97 words in 15 seconds at one point. The whole "I am a God" thing makes for another compelling listen, as he references his own controversies and the seeming immortality of his career in spite of them ("One where I tried to say I take seven kids from Columbine/ Put 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a nine/ See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was"). Its production is understated, though, and careful not to tread on his toes: 'Brainless' is a little more ambitious with its dark, chaotic-piano hook and a very MMLP1 vibe. A spanner is then thrown in the works with the curious, singing 'Stronger Than I Was', presumed to be a tribute to Kim (Scott, who he's rumoured to be back with). It's an awkward listen, feeling a little like listening to a drunk voicemail from a boyfriend, but it's pretty ballsy I guess. Rihanna's inability to say no resurfaces on 'The Monster', the inevitable #1 single that just sticks out like a sore thumb and without the courtesy to be either memorable or innovative. It's by no means terrible, but that's about as nice as I can get about it.

Not to fear though: the final four tracks rub in enough humour, ambition, emotion and surprise to make this album great. The Joe Walsh-sampling 'So Far...' is an incredibly Kid Rock-sounding bit of fun that should sound dated but just...works. Kendrick Lamar's turn on 'Love Game', too, is not the expected head-to-head swag'n'brag, but rather a reggae-pop jam that's infectious, a little bit soulful and rather summery. That's not to write it off as a pop tune; both are in fine form (Kendrick's wanting George Zimmerman's head, Eminem's using women's bodies as airbags to save him from crashes they instigated) but the music makes it pretty harmless. And then there's 'Headlights'. I... wasn't expecting that. Without spoiling, it's an astoundingly touching and surprising piece that, well, rather redeems him. Closer 'Evil Twin' though is full of laughs (his impression of girls coming up to him after his first album was released, in particular) and even a touch of humility (showing respect for Kanye, Drake, Jay and... sadly, Wayne). Most of its buzz probably lies in the reference to his Slim Shady character in the final line, though, fuelling rumours of a second SSLP.

Part of me can't quite warm to this album because of Em's necessity to fall back on the old tricks to make something great again. There's nothing on this LP that offers the prospect of a new direction for him to venture down, and I worry that album #9 will be another "well I might as well take a shot at Justin Bieber or whoever else's in the news" pic-n-mix. And obviously the prospect of another wave of "this Eminem fella is saying some bad things!" hysteria is quite exhausting. But as an album, this gripped me and continues to do so in a way no Eminem album has in 13 years. It's full of surprises, awe-inspiring performance and a heck of a lot to think about, and for that: hats off.

Rating: 8/10
Highlights: Rap God; Headlights; Bad Guy; Berzerk; Rhyme or Reason; Brainless
Avoid: Survival; The Monster; Stronger Than I Was

Artwork Watch: It does have a touch of 14 year old art student on Instagram, doesn't it?
Up next: Arcade Fire