Everything in life, from automobile mechanics to cooking in a Manhattan eatery, is driven by concepts. Eminem, one of hip-hop's finest chefs when it comes to sublime lyrical wordplay, tends not to explain himself when it comes to the concepts and inner workings of his musical mind. Em, like punk forebears Radiohead and The Velvet Underground before him, prefers to leave any interpretations (or orientations, despite what the common brouhaha may tell us) up to the listener. So the more astute of us who have counted ourselves proud Stans for 25 years knew a kraken was lurking beneath the shores and the hip-hop equivalent to the salting of Carthage was upon us when Emmy found it necessary to explain to us all via X the meaning of what he terms the "conceptual album."
Emmy himself is the concept of subversion personified, so it is perhaps all too fitting that the maestro finally dabble in the arena of concept albums himself. Those of us who have been listening to music and studying its origins for decades will have surely noticed the sheer derision and ridicule thrown the way of the concept album. While surface level listeners might hear the word "concept album" and picture the bloated whales of the 70s, washed up on the beaches wearing a disco suit and covered in cocaine, Emino's take on the entire, er,
concept of concept albums is more akin to if Moby Dick and Jaws were taking Panama City Beach by storm and were backed a fleet of viking ships and the most ruthless IDF soldiers. And while this might seem like hyperbole, I'm only trying to meet Emmy in the middle of the man's own game, because we all know hyperbole, like subversion, is yet another conceptual tool in the rapper's conceptual toolbelt. If Emmy could take rapping about spaghetti and Primus and sharing vulnerable tales of being bullied by schoolyard thugs, subvert these lyrical concepts, and make them cool in the process, what's to stop the aging hip-hop star from doing the same with the idea of the concept album?
This is the principle concept behind the lyrical story that unfolds both lyrically and musically when we listen to
The Death of Slim Shady (Coup De Grace). Look, I write this review knowing that the usual claptrap that ensues whenever Emmy drops a fresh hot steaming album is already taking up space like a hot air balloon filled with farts that just crashed into a thumbtack factory. I was noted in Eminator circles as one of the only journalists who took the message of Emmy's last couple of albums seriously. And I say this as no fanboy, having walked out on
Eight Mile 20 years ago. If Em gives it to me real, I have to give it to you all as real as he gives it to me. And believe me when I say the concepts explored on
Kamikaze and
Music to Get Murdered By were just tiny seeds that have now grown into big conceptual trees on Emster's new album.
Speaking of claptrap, cancelation is one of the hottest topics on Em's new release. It's no surprise that Em ignores many of the hip young rappers who eat up airtime every time Anthony Melonhead logs on his computer. Subversion is the concept of the day on Eminem's members only menu, and the chef's working overtime. If you think Em picked Jelly Roll's name out of a hat for the excellent collaboration featured on album closer "Somebody Save Me," you haven't been paying attention for much of the last 25 years. Em's entire goal was to subvert the "uncool" raps of guys like Jelly Roll and Post Malone, and instead remind actual hip-hop fanatics that all races are owed a seat at the hip-hop table. If white elitist hip-hop fans gatekeep their own race from the halls of hop, how are we going to overcome the very divisions that made hip-hop such a cultural and conceptual necessity for so many decades now? It's also no surprise Em brings out what are possibly Jelly Roll's hottest bars yet, allowing the party country rapper to grapple with concepts typically not granted in a Kid Rock feature.
It's funny how when I was a young Emhead scouring Geocities pages for any info I could gleam about the famous rapper, it was the "boomers" who were chastizing me and telling me I was better off with role models like Robert Redford, Paul Newman, et al. I got put in detention for blasting The Offspring, Marilyn Manson, and Eminem in class. Nowadays, the kids aren't alright, and the roles have switched. Old folks my age understand Emmy's conceptual message perfectly, while the new crop of hip-hop babies are curled up in a corner crying like mom missed their cell phone bill again. I guess they don't want Eminem to remind them that they're as old as his first album and need to pay the damn bill themselves.
Look, if I sound enthusiastic, it's because I am. Em is pushing 70 years old and has revived the concept album medium with the most culturally and conceptually relevant concept album since
Mellon Collie, or maybe even Waters'
Wall. If you're trans, white, black, green, purple, gay, disabled... well, you might need a diaper and a bottle. Which means Johnson and Johnson needs to start opening new factories about ten minutes ago, because we're all going to need diapers and bottles after hearing
The Death of Slim Shady. I wouldn't have needed that disclaimer ten years ago, but we're softer now. Ever notice Eminem calls his fans "Stans" when the whole concept of
Holes is Stanley Yelnats has to dig holes to build character? Grab a shovel. Start digging.
