In yesterday’s post, I revealed a secret about my disdain for sharing my music preferences with other drivers on the road, specifically at red lights. In the comments, there were a few others who expressed secrets involving music. Jillian was educating people at the same red lights, Amber was performing accidental serenades, and TBM revealed his faux music career. Sam also sings T-swift better than me, but that’s okay because much more people show interest in hearing me spit some Eminem.
Me and Slim go way back.
I vividly remember the period in my life when I was first introduced to the exquisitely crude lyrics of one of my favorite rappers. I can still smell my old 5th grade classroom and hear the sounds of me cracking pencils out of frustration over those logic puzzles. Isabella, Amy, Tony, and Michael can figure out their own damn class schedules or which gifts they gave to whom for Valentine’s Day. Shit. But this isn’t about them. This is about my favorite rapper, Mr. Marshall Mathers himself. You will be okay with this once you understand our history.
When Eminem came out with My Name Is, I remember being scared and delighted all at the same time. Scared, because I knew if I got caught singing the lyrics, “I don’t give a fuck, god sent me to piss the world off” at the impressionable age of ten, I would surely be put in jail and condemned to hell. My delight came from Eminem being my first true taste of secret rebellion. It was a simple infatuation that I couldn’t fully understand. It wouldn’t be long, however, before I was able to start understanding and appreciating the verses I was performing for the hair ribbons and stuffed animals in my closet.
From 2002-2006, my boy brought out some more serious tunes just in time for
concentration camp High School. Songs like Mocking Bird, When I’m Gone, and Halie’s Song helped me get through those years in which that one detention ruined my life, and not getting asked to a single prom tormented my soul. Those problems obviously relate to child raising issues, hardcore drug use, and contemplating suicide.
On into early adulthood, and after I finally figured out the underlying meaning of the term hairy palms, my obsession became side tracked by a bout of 90′s withdrawal. This resulted in binge jamming everything from Nirvana, to 2Pac, to The Cranberries. The Blues Travelers may have slipped in there somewhere as well.
You can tell exactly when this time period occurred, because the widely bashed album Relapse was released in sync with my break in support of the artist. It’s obvious Eminem could sense my ambivalence, which then resulted in the widely agreed upon worst album of his career. Do you understand the gravity of my devotion to this guy now?
Finally, it was time for me to come out of my coma, which was so sever that I was reduced to listening to Jewel and Fiona Apple on repeat. I needed recovery. Much like someone else I used to know. I needed Recovery. This album confirms that it is my fate to forever love Eminem. There exists a cosmic tie between the artist and I. Don’t believe me? Take a look at some of the album’s song titles:
Track 3: “On Fire” hmm sounds familiar.
Track 11: “Cinderella Man” remember my original banner photo?
Track 12: “25 to Life” uncanny!
Track 14: “Almost Famous” me in a nutshell, right?
BONUS CONNECTION: Track 13, entitled So Bad, contains the lyric, “Why you think the only thing I got on is my pajamas” which is basically him admitting to loving long johns.
Either it was my fate to grow up appreciating the meditations of a thankfully inappropriate white rapper, or I purposefully littered my blog with allusions to Eminem’s last album. But it is probably the former. Tell me, what artist will you never be over?
OMG! Comment winners tomorrow! It’s like winning the lottery!
- Go With God: Has Marshall “Eminem” Mathers Given His Life To His Lord And Savior Jesus Christ?? (bossip.com)
- ‘Stop whoring around’: Eminem’s daughter slams Taylor Swift for taking the ‘love … – Ninemsn (celebrities.ninemsn.com.au)
- Could 50 Cent And Eminem Make The Next Watch The Throne? (mtv.com)