What is a “rap god?” Eminem claims he is one.
However, instead of creating forms of divine invention on his new album, “The Marshall Mathers LP 2,” Slim Shady has manufactured a forgettable artifact of past successes, unable to innovate beyond them, for better or for worse.
Ironically, the third single off the album, “Rap God,” where Mathers is chanting, “I’m beginning to feel like a rap god, rap god,” lacks the full weight of something truly divine, especially when it comes to the instrumental.
In fact, one could make the claim that the beats on this album are possibly the most dated and plain on any rap album released this year.
Sure, some of them are dope-as-hell: the Zombies sample on highlight “Rhyme or Reason” is fantastically implemented, and the piano samples on “Brainless,” coupled with great boom-bap drums, are perfectly complimenting a return-to-form.
However, MMLP2 is barely a return to its predecessor. “The Monster” has Eminem flowing over what sounds like a rejected Taylor Swift backing track. In addition, who let that guy from Fun sing on an Eminem track? “Headlights” sounds like B.o.B., for dang sakes.
With this album, Eminem has, in effect, taken every album he ever made, thrown them into a cauldron and melted them together into a sloppy pop-rap soup.
It is hard to be angry at this album, though. Eminem is, what, 41? He is not going to be a revolutionary – the mainstream has washed all his youthful angst and grit away, and he is spending most of his time on this record apologizing to his ex-wife Kim, his mother and others.
Also, this is not a half-hearted attempt. There are lyrical lines abound – “Evil Twin,” the album’s closer, is more-so befitting of a “rap god.”
If only we could call this a rap album.
There is fantastic rapping, but when there are as many wretched pop hooks as there are (see: “Survival,” “Stronger Than I Was,” “Legacy,” etc.), one hesitates to call this a “rap” album, in the traditional sense.
To compare, it feels just like J. Cole’s “Born Sinner.” Both have lukewarm beats, awful pop hooks, and, for some reason, an affinity for name-checking old, therefore “real,” hip-hop.
Is this supposed to give you credibility, Em? Unfortunately it does not. Instead, this record feels like a whole-hearted love affair with rap music that just sounds like dated pop-rap.
