#i know the song is anachronistic but have you considered the story made it worth it??

[symbioticsimplicity]

I don’t need to be up this early but this idea won’t leave me.

So, Steddie Battle of the Bands AU featuring punk!Steve.

Corroded Coffin join a battle of the bands competition run out of a little bar just outside Indianapolis, expecting fully to make it all the way. There’s not a lot of musicians in their area and out of all of them, CC have the most milage and the most unique sound. Sure, it’s metal, but in the bigger city that’s not the death sentence it would be back in Hawkins.

For the most part, they’re right. There’s a little pop trio that do okay, a Bob Dylan type with an acoustic and the flattest, most nasal tone Eddie has ever heard, a rock outfit with a drummer who’s clearly on speed and fixing to pull a Spinal Tap, and one very old dude who’s there more for the fun than to actually compete. They’re a shoe-in.

Except there’s a punk band that were running a little late, and manage to take stage literally just as they’re being called. The Demogorgons, they’re called. 

Eddie is pissed the instant he sees them, firstly because he’s been on sight with punks since ‘84 when a flock of the little shits dissed Dio to his fucking face. Second because out of all the things they could have been called, they picked a DND creature??! In Eddie’s house??? Who the fuck did they think they were?!

The longer Eddie watches them play (he can’t leave until they announce who’s moving on from this round, he’s literally a captive audience), the more pissed off he gets because they’re good.

The lead guitarist is a girl with dark, short hair mostly hiding her face, but she’s absolutely slaying their cover of White Wedding, adding more than was originally in the song seemingly on the fly. It’s beautiful, as a guitarist himself he can at least begrudgingly respect her talent.

The bassist is also a girl with short hair who seems like she’s in her own world, totally lost in the music and jamming so hard Eddie can’t really look at her for too long without getting sucked in with her.

The drummer looks like an absolute madman, big buff blonde guy who looks like he’d bite if anyone got too close to him. He’s bare chested, showing off a few tattoos and a couple piercings that make him far more interesting than Eddie cares to admit.

But the singer/ rhythm guitarist, is what is really tripping Eddie up.

He’s prettier than he has any goddamn need to be, and he’s weirdly smiley for a punk. Like being on stage is his happy place, which Eddie can relate to, even if he hates admitting any commonalities between them at all. His voice too, is lovely. It’s not the typical scratchy punk sound, it’s high and airy and from a technical standpoint (only that, Eddie swears) it’s really good. And he seems like he’s not having any trouble playing and singing at the same time, which is shitty as hell because Eddie still does sometimes.

Before their set ends, Eddie has decided he hates them. He hates them, so much.

So much in fact, he goes over to heckle them once they finish.

It goes south almost immediately.

He was right, the drummer is definitely a maniac. It’s like he was waiting for an excuse to fight someone. And given how fast the singer snatches him up after he decks Eddie, this is a frequent thing. The singer and the drummer posture at each other and for a second Eddie thinks they’re about to fight.

But evidently the drummer thinks better of it and stalks off to start helping put their gear up.

The singer apologizes for his bandmate, even though Eddie started the fight, and introduces himself as Steve, the drummer being named Billy. He’s a good kid, Steve tells him, just angry and still learning where to put that anger. He offers to buy Eddie a drink for his trouble, and he’s so floored he ends up accepting.

To Eddie’s surprise, they end up talking, and they end up talking a lot. Steve is easy to talk to, and he listens like what Eddie has to say is important. When he talks, it’s with this sardonic edge to it that reminds Eddie of sour candy. Before he knows it, it’s been like three hours, and it’s time to announce who’s advancing to the next round.

To Eddie’s complete lack of surprise, Corroded Coffin make it through, but so do The Demogorgons. Steve congratulates him, sincerely, and Eddie stutters out the same.

They part ways for the night, but the pretty punk with the prettier smile won’t leave Eddie’s thoughts.

Cue CC telling Eddie to get his head in the game, trying to head off the crush they can spot forming. They know him well enough to know the signs, and they don’t need him pulling a Romeo and Juliet with some punk he met for one night.

Little do they know, The Demogorgons are having a similar chat with their own lead. They’ve worked too hard to have Steve get distracted, or worse, go soft, over some greasy metalhead he’s only talked to like, once. Steve of course promises that he won’t. After all, it’s not like he’s really going to see him much, and Steve isn’t easy, he has to get to know someone to fall for them.

Cut to a week later when one Steve Harrington is dropping Dustin off at his DND thingy, only to see none other than Eddie Munson perched at the head of the table. He’s explaining what their quest is for the night, or something, and he’s so animated, so into it, he doesn’t notice Steve frozen in the doorway.

Steve makes it out before Eddie sees him, but from that moment on it’s like he’s every where Steve goes. They bump into each other constantly, Hawkins is a small town, it’s easy to do. It gets to be such a regular thing that Eddie makes a joke about following Steve, and Steve sings that Rockwell song about being followed and they find themselves laughing together again.

It’s easy, really. Too easy. And before they know it, whenever they bump into each other, they end up talking for a while. It’s just a few minutes, they both reason to themselves, a few minutes is fine.

But a few minutes turns into an hour, turns into a couple hours, turns into a smoke sesh at Eddie’s, turns into a jam sesh at Steve’s, and before they know it, they’re missing each other when the other isn’t around.

Of course it isn’t long before Gareth notices his best friend’s preoccupation, and Robin could clock Steve’s daydreamy look three miles away. They each come clean to their respective long-suffering bestie.

Neither are happy, but they both care more about their friend than some stupid band competition. They know the rest of their bands won’t be happy, and that could be a pain, so rather than being even slightly reasonable, they hatch a plan.

Eddie and Steve are determined to be the punk-metal version of Romeo and Juliet, but that doesn’t mean their story has to be a tragedy. This is a musical, afterall. What better to do than bridge the gap with the power of music.

So the next time Eddie and Steve hang out, they both spend probably fifteen minutes uncomfortably dancing around trying to ask the other to write a song with them.

Steve cracks first, because seeing Eddie uncomfortable is so fucking bizarre it trumps his own nerves and he has to ask what’s going on. Eddie decides to be brave and takes the leap, asks Steve what he’s got to ask, and to his surprise Steve tells him he was going to ask the same thing.

They haven’t really talked about it, the tension between them, but it boils over when Steve tries to explain why he wants to write a song with Eddie. Eddie can’t watch him flounder for a second more, when he knows he could just be kissing him instead.

He takes Steve by the jaw and kisses the soul out of him. If they weren’t sold they were doing the right thing before, the kiss seals the deal.

They spend the night trading kisses and lyrics in equal measure, alternating between strumming strings and heartstrings until they’re both so caught up in creation, in each other, they’re harmonic.

After that, they hit crunch time. The battle of the bands is next week, and learning a whole new song is a pain in the ass for both bands. It’ll be worth it, but Jeff doesn’t know that and Billy doesn’t care.

The boys make time to see each other, but of course, they get caught.

Band practice gets postponed on both sides of the fence. They know they shouldn’t, it’s stupid, but Eddie spent the day getting harassed by a flock of “Concerned Christian Mothers” who were not shy about telling him exactly what they thought about him, and would not get the hell out of his face about it. Steve is a caretaker down to his bones, and doesn’t think twice about going to care for his metalhead.

Nancy however isn’t stupid, and Grant knows damn well Eddie would only postpone practice if something was genuinely wrong. So Nancy follows Steve to see what the hell could be so important to him that he’d call off practice, and Grant goes to bring Eddie a care package.

Nancy isn’t happy about finding the two spooning on Eddie’s couch, but she doesn’t make as much of a fuss about it as Grant does. Grant goes off about sleeping with the enemy and treachery and the metalhead code of honor (which he made up right there on the spot), but the real bucket of cold water is Nancy telling Steve how disappointed she is that he pulled them all into this, made them care about it, only to waste his time chasing after someone instead of putting his heart into the music the way they all had been. She asks him to get serious, then leaves.

Steve excuses himself, ignoring Eddie’s pleas to wait a second, come back, please, let’s talk about this.

They don’t see each other again until the night of the show.

The competition threw them a curveball, however. None of them know until they get there, see the layout of the big warehouse like space, but instead of playing one after the other, the competition is amp versus amp. CC are freaking out a little bit because they’ve never played that way before, and Eddie is picking up an acoustic, why the hell did he even bring an acoustic, what’s going on?? The Demogorgons are equally nervous, this being a first for them too, and Steve is quiet, so quiet, he’s never like this before shows, what’s going on??

Despite everyone’s nerves and fears, the two bands take their places on the two stages, on opposite ends of the room from one another.

Eddie introduces Corroded Coffin with the same flare he usually does, but tells the audience that tonight’s performance is going to be a little different than their usual. He finishes with “This one’s for you, Juliet.”

He starts strumming the acoustic, the song he and Steve had written together filling the space, warm and full and a wild departure from their usual sound. He’d gone over it with the guys, added some polish to it, made it more metal, but he’d asked them to hold off on that until he cued them.

“And hey darling, I hope you’re good tonight. And I know you don’t feel right when I’m leaving-”

The rest of Corroded Coffin have never heard Eddie sing like this, didn’t even know he could. Usually he was all growls and grit and demon noises he’d figured out how to imitate. They had no idea he was even capable of making a song sound so beautiful.

Eddie continues singing his heart out, strumming his guitar, praying that Steve picks up on what he’s doing, joins him at the drop, doesn’t leave him again. He’s nearly convinced himself he’s going to end up singing the whole thing alone, and God how stupid would that be, that when he reaches the switching point, he nearly drops his guitar when Steve’s voice rises up to meet him. A spotlight flicks on, illuminating him as he sings into the microphone, playing his own part of the accompanyment.

“And hey, sweetie, well I need you here to night. And I know you don’t wanna be leaving me here tonight-”

Steve’s voice is the perfect counterbalance to Eddie’s. It’s light where his is heavy, soft where his is gritty. It showcases their duality, while highlighting how good they are together and Eddie would cry if he weren’t on stage.

He takes the next verse as planned, but Steve’s voice stays with him, harmonizing along side him so perfectly it’s as if they’ve been singing together for years rather than about a week.

“You know you can’t give me what I need, and even though you mean so much to me, I can’t wait through everything.”

That’s different, not the line they wrote together. It lands like a gut punch when Eddie looks up and sees Steve’s expression. He’s not smiling. He always smiles on stage.

“Is this really happening?” Eddie sings back without missing a beat, knowing the next verse is his, meaning it might be his only chance. He prays to every muse he’s ever had to lend him the improv skills to land this.

To his suprise, he hears Jeff’s heavy guitar start to build, Grant’s bass swooping in beside it to flank him. When he turns his head to check, they both give him the nod, the one that’s always meant they’re beside him, for better or worse. It gives him to courage to put his soul into the words he’s about to spit.

“I swear I’ll never be happy again, and don’t you dare say we can just be friends, I’m not some boy that you can sway.” 

There’s a half a second pause in the music, just long enough to wreck Eddie’s heartrate. He can see Steve’s face from here, not clearly enough to make out every emotion that flashes across it, but enough to see when it lands on determination.

“We knew it’d happen eventually.” He and Steve sing, or in his case shout, in tandem.

Corroded Coffin fall back in with them, and to Eddie’s utter surprise, The Demogorgons join them. The sound of two bands playing the climax of the song he and Steve had written together hits Eddie so hard he can barely sing past the balloon of emotion swelling in his chest.

The crowd reminds him they’re there, joining in on the chorus of ‘La la las’ going around the room, their voices loud enough to shake the walls. It’s everything Eddie has ever wanted from a crowd, and it’s way too much along with everything else going on right now. Eddie can’t focus on it, not when Steve is staring him down from across the room.

“If you can wait ‘till I get home, then I swear we can make this last.” Eddie belts, Steve’s higher register wrapping around the notes the same way his hands wrap around his mic.

Both bands let the song taper out, leaving just the crowd echoing back the words to them, just Steve and Eddie singing to each other.

Eddie reaches out his hand, as if he could take Steve’s in his despite the distance. Steve once again meets him halfway, extending his own hand as if to bridge the distance.

The lights go down and the crowd is still chanting. It takes longer to settle them down than it does to make the decision to shrug off his guitar and run to his boy. Eddie hesitates only to look over at his bandmates.

They look exhasperated, but fond. Grant rolls his eyes and tells him to go kiss his stupid punk or whatever.

Eddie is off in an instant.

He finds Steve tearing his way over to him, runs straight into him almost the same way he’d run into him the first time they met outside of a venue.

There aren’t words, they don’t need them, already sung them. There’s just Steve and Eddie and how badly they’ve missed each other. The apologies and affirmations can come later, when their mouths aren’t so busy kissing the life from one another.

In the back of his mind, Eddie registers some of the crowd around them wolf whistling, but for once he doesn’t give much of a shit what the crowd thinks of him.

[earwaxinggibbous]

Eminem - Worst to Best

So I was watching theneedledrop and thinking I could do this too. That’s all the prefacing you’re gonna get.

I know it’s hard to believe I can judge Eminem from an objective standpoint considering I’m such a big fan that I ranked Kamikaze as my favorite hit song of 2018 (my actual favorite song was probably When You Die by MGMT or Stop Smoking by Car Seat Headrest for the record) but I am able, physically, to have negative opinions even about the rap god himself.

My only rule is that this only includes his full-length studio albums. Infinite won’t be here due to my lack of knowledge regarding it, but everything else is fair game. This will be heavily opinion-based.

Let’s go and start from the worst!

9. Revival (2017)

Initially I was gonna put Encore below this one. After all, in my opinion, there’s nothing egregiously awful about Revival in my mind. It just sort of existed to me, like that dead roach that stayed in my high school’s gym for over a month before disappearing without a word about it. 

It wasn’t until I gave a few of the tracks a re-listen that I realized Revival has nothing going for it. This is Em’s sellout album, the one where he collabs with Beyonce, Ed Sheeran and goddamn X Ambassadors in the vague hopes that it’d get him a hit. Songs that don’t bother having clever writing because all they need to do is slap a semi-important pop singer on the hook.

It’s easily Em’s most ballsless album. In a universe where Kill You and Same Song & Dance exist, there is no need for Framed, Em’s almost saddening attempt to return to his Slim Shady roots even though, let’s be honest, the years of Shady are long behind us.

I’m not saying I need Em yelling slurs and talking about murder every five seconds, I just want him to be, for lack of a better word, the most authentic version of himself he can be. And this really isn’t it to me. No amount of politics or wordplay can hide that this is a sham of what an Eminem album should sound like. I don’t need diss tracks, or songs about serial killing, I just want him to say what he wants and not hold back.

Everything about the album is weak and tired. Every song melds into one another, without thought or purpose, only broken up by the celebrity hooks that define them. It’s the blackest mark on Em’s discography, and easily his worst album to date. Not even worth sneezing at.

8. Encore (2004)

I guess we shouldn’t let Em do whatever he wants...

Encore has the opposite problem that Revival does, and it’s a problem I empathize with. Encore is essentially word vomit in album form. It’s the musical equivalent of Jack Kerouac’s spontaneous prose, loud and incoherent and kind of gross. It’s what happens when ambition goes unchecked, and Em just leans a little too far into what the media says about him.

This was also deep in the throes of Em’s drug abuse problem, and it shows. This album feels like a bad drug trip, sludgy and gross and heavy, in a way that makes it hard to move your arms and legs. With these absolutely god-awful sung choruses on songs like My First Single, Eminem dares you to make less sense than him as he rambles like a crazy person through song after song, only taking breaks from his half-attempts at comedy on tracks like Mosh, Like Toy Soldiers and Mockingbird, which try to be serious. But it’s hard to be serious when you’re essentially getting choked in a soup of valium and regret.

I don’t hate Encore like I do Revival, because in some ways I can understand where it comes from. It’s trying to do the same sort of thing its predecessors did, with silly songs and serious ones. But the funny songs are so weird and frankly gross that it quashes any attempt of seriousness. It’s like Eminem thought the only way to make his songs better were to take what his detractors hated about him and turn it up to 11. Songs like My First Single are complete nonsense complete with gut-churning sound effects and a shitty beat, whereas Just Lose It, a song I’m ashamed to admit I enjoy, fills itself with baseless offensiveness and weird reference humor to function. And that was the big hit single off of this album.

Really I think Just Lose It was the best way to sell this album. What says Encore more than a song insisting that Eminem diddles little boys? FACK would’ve been in place on this album, which is not a compliment.

7. Recovery (2010)

Recovery shares a lot of problems with Revival, a lot of radio-bait songs featuring pop artists that have no business being within ten feet of Eminem. But I’ll admit its singles were far superior to that of Revival. No Love was far superior to anything Revival spat out.

I just kinda don’t care about this album. Other than how Love The Way You Lie was permanently ingrained in the cultural consciousness around 2010, I have very few thoughts about it. I remember hearing most of the singles when I was in elementary school, and they were all just kinda fine. Space Bound was okay (other than that coked up line about love being ‘evil’ spelt backwards) and Not Afraid was sincerely underwhelming considering what it was going for.

It’d been diminishing returns for Em for years, so I’m not shocked he needed some time to get back on his feet. But there’s just not much to say about Recovery. I feel like Em was a lot prouder of it than anyone else.

6. Kamikaze (2018)

At some level, I feel like Kamikaze set itself up to fail. And it did pretty well in spite of that.

The album’s main selling point was that it was dissing everyone. Shady’s gonna name names, I remember hearing, as this album dropped right the fuck out of nowhere in the late summer of 2018. Diss track drama has never really been for me, since oftentimes it pits artists I like against one another over petty bullshit. And hearing that Em slammed people simply for disliking Revival only made me more nervous about what Kamikaze’s outcome would look like.

I’m glad to say it was not nearly as bad as I was expecting.

I’m sort of on the fence about this album. While I think it is punchy, and pretty fun lyrics-wise, it definitely doesn’t hold a candle to any of his older stuff. It doesn’t even really hold up against MMLP2. It’s less that I enjoy this album, and more that I enjoy the possibility of Eminem managing to pick himself up after Revival and move into the new age while still being himself.

Easily the worst moment on this album is Eminem calling Tyler the Creator the f-slur and even implying he’s pretending to be gay, which he has since apologized for. However, the scariest thing to me that the line represents is the possibility that Eminem’s personality is too anachronistic. That in an era of young-adult trap rappers with very experimental homemade beats, there’s no longer room for a famous, albeit angry man in his 40′s being backed by a studio. It’s the years of Soundcloud, where anyone can be a rapper, and someone as old and frankly polarizing as Eminem may never truly have the limelight again.

Em’s style has simply fallen behind the times and he will never be content with updating himself, because that isn’t who he is. And while I love that about him, I think it might speak disaster for his career.

I like the songs though.

5. The Marshall Mathers LP 2 (2013)

Now we’re getting into the good shit. The Marshall Mathers LP 2 starts off with a bang, the first song being Bad Guy, a direct sequel to Stan and an incredibly powerful sequel at that. Eminem asks questions about his fame, his identity, and most notably, he fucking gets murdered at the beginning of this album.

MMLP2 strips off all but one skit. No Paul Rosenberg cameo on this one. This was him getting serious after the relative failure of Encore and Relapse. This was, frankly, what Recovery should’ve sound like. With Berzerk being a fun sort of party hit, Rap God is what really got him back on the map. The song asserts his lyrical dominance. It is a brag track, and it earns that right.

Despite it being of incredibly high quality, this is nowhere near Em’s best work, which speaks highly for his track record. The fact that something this well-made is comparatively mediocre when put next to the top four is incredible to me. This album is more of a revival than Revival was. It’s Eminem reaching out of the dirt after being buried and yelling “Hey, I’m not dead yet!” It’s the hearbeat running through a comatose body as they return to consciousness.

But when it comes down to it, I love what this album represents to me more than its content. Aside from Berzerk, Bad Guy and Rap God, none of the songs really stand out either way. It’s all good, of course, but none of it can match up to his older work. Regardless, this album means a lot to me on a spiritual level. Whenever I listen to this I feel like a proud parent, and Em is my son who just completely crushed his elementary school talent show.

It’s a good feeling.

4. Relapse (2009)

At this point it was sort of like picking my favorite child. My number one is obvious, but deciding how to order these three was trouble.

People will probably argue with me saying that Relapse is one of Em’s best, but fuck that. This album is severely underrated among the fanbase, and is an incredibly powerful listen. This album is an auditory representation of rock bottom, in the best way possible.

This is one of the only albums to really define a split between Marshall and Slim Shady, with Slim being a deep-voiced demon and Marshall being a fucked-up middle-aged man who just came staggering out of a rehab center. The way the characters play off of one another is beautiful, Slim trying to manipulate Marshall into his ways and wiles. This also easily has the most horrorcore-type sound and content out of any Eminem album, with Slim occasionally playing the role of a serial killer, such as on 3 am or one of the standout tracks, Same Song & Dance. Insane tells a story possibly regarding Slim’s father, or maybe representative of something else entirely.

One of my few issues with this album, aside from We Made You of all things being one of the singles, is that one of the best tracks is only on the deluxe edition. My Darling ties off the Slim and Marshall story in a nice little bow, plus Careful What You Wish For sweeping up all the themes and putting them in one place.

This album is beautiful, it’s cinematic in a way. It’s deep and powerful and incredibly, incredibly scary, with Em at his lowest point in his life and career. Sadly, it was not well-received critically, which I think is a shame. Clearly they weren’t seeing what I see.

3. The Eminem Show (2002)

Screw Revival, this is easily Em’s most politically powerful album yet. I listened to this whole thing on a boombox I got at Best Buy for 20 dollars and I felt like I had fucking transcended.

This album pulls out all the stops, immediately starting out on White America, a song so goddamn strong that every time little me heard it on the radio I immediately got down and lost my shit. I didn’t even understand what it was about, all I knew was that it was big and important. And it is.

While his first two big albums tried to be weird and threatening, The Eminem Show just wanted to be big, and talk about big things. Eminem fearlessly tears into heavily-charged concepts in White America, Say Goodbye Hollywood and Square Dance. Then on the flipside he aims the gun at himself on tracks like My Dad’s Gone Crazy, Cleanin’ Out My Closet and even Hailie’s Song. It’s a gut-punch of an album, this is where Eminem is truly fearless.

I’ll also say I feel this album is a little bit more accessible, weirdly enough, than Em’s earlier stuff. It’s much less crude and aggressive, but still carries his trademark style. It’s got the skits, he yells a lot still, but the topics are easier to swallow than his earlier albums. I’d say it’s a good entry-level Eminem album if you’re threatened by rape jokes and Em yelling the f-slur constantly. And unlike what Teens of Denial was for Car Seat Headrest, I feel like The Eminem Show manages to be that entry-level album without completely castrating Eminem’s lyrical content.

But even longtime fans can gain enjoyment from this album and how loud and proud it is, how fearless Eminem really is on this album. This one, more than anything, is the unfiltered Marshall Mathers experience. No filters, no jokes, just him and his daughter and Dr. Dre.

But easily the best part of this album is the DVD extras thing where you get a free episode of the Slim Shady Show. Fuck yeah.

2. The Slim Shady LP (1999)

The Slim Shady LP was Eminem’s first really successful work. It was also the first thing he ever put on a CD. Yeah, Infinite was on cassette only. And this album is fucking great. It’s a perfect debut for Eminem. It’s got his first big hit, My Name Is, and a myriad of other great tracks. It’s just good late 90′s rap, with fun beats and interesting lyrics. As much as I love SSLP, I don’t really like talking about it because... yeah, it’s good, I’m just never sure what else to say.

And that might make it sound like I like it less than The Eminem Show, but no, that’s not it. As much as I think political Em is great, I’ll forever prefer nasty rat boy Em any day. This is the Em that inspires me the most, the grody, crude one that reminds me of myself. Best tracks include 97 Bonnie and Clyde, Bad Meets Evil and of course My Name Is. This is also the only album where Ken Kaniff is played by Aristotle. There’s your fun fact for the day.

1. The Marshall Mathers LP (2000)

FUCK everyone else, I respect YOU!

The Marshall Mathers LP is a defining rap album. It’s lyrical perfection, the hooks are god-tier, and it is without contest the best Eminem album of all time. I doubt he’ll ever top this, and if he does it’ll probably break space-time. 

MMLP ticks all the boxes an Eminem album usually should. It’s quirky, it’s comedic, it’s dark, it’s angry, it’s violent, it’s everything I could want and more. But beyond that, it’s the thing that really proved what Eminem can do. He can tell stories, he can do lyrics, he can flow, he has good beats, he can murder his ex-girlfriend, he can get his own songs censored on the uncensored version of his album, he can do it all.

The songs on this just put me in a good mood. Even though they’re horrible, and I don’t mean they’re bad songs. The content is absolutely fucked, this album is not for the faint of heart. But it makes me feel represented, not for being gay, trans, mentally ill or short, but for being a fucked-up weirdo who lived a fucked-up life and just wants to scream and lose his shit. More than anything, this feels like an album that’s there for me, for better or for worse.

The standouts on this album in my opinion are the two “named” tracks, Kim and Stan. These tracks are incredibly disturbing, but they both mean a lot to me and are incredibly written and acted. The Real Slim Shady is still an amazing single with an awesome, hopping beat. I’m Back is incredibly solid, Criminal is cleverly contradictory, every track on this album is great without any misses. If there were enough words in the English language to describe how much I love this album, I’d probably use all of them.

This album couldn’t exist today. If this came out today, it’d probably be thrown to the wayside for a myriad of reasons. It’s too late 90′s, it’s too dark, it’s “problematic”, we have like 500 white rappers now, but for the record: Anyone who writes this kind of music today owes it to Eminem, ESPECIALLY all of the white rappers who insist they’re better than him. (Looking at you, MGK.) Even if he’s not doing that great now, even if you don’t like him, it’d be foolish to not acknowledge what MMLP did for rap. And not only was it influential, but it still holds up to this very day.

So there you have it. All of Eminem’s full albums (besides Infinite oopsies) listed from worst to best. Have any differing opinions? Leave a reply. Just be polite, you filthy animal.