After a four year sabbatical to piece together what was turning into a tragic descent of one of the most interesting lives in the Hip Hop landscape, Mr. Marshall Mathers has re-pledged his allegiance to the grind. He dropped one of the top selling and most debated albums of 2009 and is already preparing for its sequel in early 2010. In the interim though, he is releasing even more music to tide his fans and Interscope’s bottom line over just in case withdrawal sets in.
The seven song EP fortunately or unfortunately depending on your fiscal situation has been appended to the original Relapse though. So purchasing the same album twice may not sit well with some. However, if you’re a hard core fan and appreciate his more deviant side, then you probably need to go ahead and save some pennies, recycle some cans or have a seat on Santa’s lap because Hip Hops self proclaimed anti-christ is back and more sinister than ever.
Now there are certain things the rap nation has come to expect from Eminem. We all know the technical side of the music isn’t usually up for discussion. The precision of a Dre beat with Em’s lyrical dexterity bouncing over top is beyond complimentary. The pair is clean, clinical and crisp in their delivery and the workmanship is rarely substandard. Relapse: Refill is no different. Dre provides foundations that work perfectly with not only Em’s delivery but his topic selection as well. The party songs are sonically thick and rousing. The more thoughtful songs provide tracks that are simpler and acquiesce to the narrative Em is spinning. The dark, disturbing pieces are slow and punctuated with odd and creepy sound subtexts that add to the unsettling nature of some of Eminem’s lyrics.
So the main issue that anyone can raise in regards to Em’s latest prescription is subject matter. And there are a lot of issues to be raised in that arena. You can argue that some of the material is allegory. Hyperbole abounds and what he really meant was this that and the other. However, when metaphor is constant, the true meaning of the piece is lost and people really start to think you meant exactly what you said. Then unfortunately that song goes from complex poetry with a real point presented in the picturesque wording to shock for the sake of shock and the latter is simply uninteresting.
With Refill you are treated to lyrics about stuffing inanimate objects up people’s arses, killing and skinning women and eating small children with a special and somewhat distasteful shout out to dead baby beauty queen Jon Benet Ramsey. These songs of course are book ended by club songs. I guess eating people’s young daughters can add inches to your waist line so you have to work those babies off.
“Forever,” “Hell Breaks Loose” and “Drop the Bomb on Em” are all lyrically palatable songs full of hubris and warnings for anyone who thought they could snatch the crown while the pair was away. Then you have “Elevators” which intertwines consideration of the shallowness and pretension of fame with Em’s feelings about his ascension to those same ranks he disdains. After that the music takes a sharp turn to the left. “Music box” is about stalking and snatching little girls to be eaten from a baby buffet and “Buffalo Bill” rehashes Ems newly developed love for talking about characters from Silence of the Lambs and their bizarre and violent behavior. And “Taking My Ball” presents all sorts of different ways to participate in masochistic ass play. I’ll admit it. I don’t get it and listening is really exhaustive if you don’t like this macabre subject matter.
So depending where you fall on the odd meter, this album could be a welcome stocking stuffer or something someone couldn’t pay you to listen to. Note that the technical prowess is present, but Em again takes a long walk on a ghastly path and some folks’ chi simply isn’t built for all that nastiness.
out of 5
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