Eminem
Encore
(Interscope)
It's easy to imagine Eminem coming down with a bad case of writer's block having to follow up three mega-selling albums, none of which ventured far from each other in subject matter. After all, even Em had to have realized that one can't rap on the same topics forever. It's not very far into his new album, Encore, however, that it's clear Eminem has dealt with writer's block by venturing into new territory, for better and for worse. Make no mistake, he still raps on much of the same schtick; he simply now presents it differently.
Having all but shed the tales of graphic violence that enraged so many mothers since the dawn of Slim Shady, his songs have gained a matured sense of humor that manages to make some songs bitingly funny while reducing others to laughably ridiculous. More importantly, on Encore Em has also uncovered a sincere, thoughtful side which serves to balance out the over-the-top brand of humor, and adds an intriguing, honest perspective to his persona. It doesn't work, but is a decent try none the less.
Encore starts out strong with some of this serious material- In \Like Toy Soldiers,"" Em intelligently attempts to end his feud with Source Magazine co-owner Benzino, backed by an epic, powerhouse of a children's choir, while in ""Mosh"" he gets political (at this point, who hasn't?). ""Yellow Brick Road,"" one of the album's finest moments, finds him discussing personal issues from his racially charged past that he wouldn't have dared to express on The Marshall Mathers LP. The song takes a chronological, straight-forward approach to the story more abstractly told in ""8 Mile's"" ""Lose Yourself,"" and is far more revealing.
As Encore progresses towards the middle, things take an odd, almost disjointed turn as Eminem starts dropping lines of fart joke-mentality humor and the mood lightens significantly. Some good things come of this mood swing; ""My First Single"" and the playfully homoerotic ""Rain Man"" are hilarious, while the supremely strange, middle-eastern flavored ""Ass Like That"" takes a vicious stab at R. Kelly. Em, on many counts, continues to deliver his standard material, complaining about and boasting of fame, and dissing the latest unfortunate celebrities like (the obvious choice) Michael Jackson and the late Christopher Reeve: ""Listen to shit now cause I won't stand for this / And Christopher Reeves won't sit for this neither."" There is a fair share of atrociously dumb humor, admittedly even in the good songs, but especially in the single ""Just Lose It,"" which as it is sounds like a tired rehashing of The Eminem Show's already bad ""Without Me.""
It's likely that Eminem's new-found middle school humor is just his latest way of waving a middle finger at his fans, something he's clearly enjoyed doing since day one. Towards the end of Encore, he brings the serious mood back with several more excellent songs. ""Mockingbird"" is directed at his daughter Hailie, and weaves together the story of Eminem's rise to fame with how it affected her. The sweet sentimental atmosphere serves the story well; it's easily the most believably devoted song he's made for her.
Eminem has always been an inventive, incredibly creative lyricist and here not much has changed. He raps with style, passion and skill, albeit the subject matter has started to wear thin. Overall, Encore doesn't cover too much new ground and is probably his worst album to date. It certainly has its moments, namely the serious songs which address old topics in new, mature ways. Perhaps doing this is his form of an encore, and now he is free to reinvent himself again. It is certainly heartening that he's still managing to piss people off, but now for better reasons; the Bush-bashing ""Mosh"" has drawn the heat already. The world needs a Slim Shady to keep us in check. And as long as he can make an album of part fart jokes and keep a straight face on the rest, more power to him.
