OUTSIDE INFORMATION

Outside Information is a new feature where one of the ERGO Editors writes about a pop-culture theme that may not necessarily follow the current issue's theme. Consider it a commentary.

Clutch Crutch:

Murder, Mayhem and Eminem’s love affair with the American Automobile.
By: Donald E.W. Quist

In writing it is often referred to as a crutch, a word that we unconsciously lean on. A crutch can also be a reoccurring subject, item or action. In the case of rotten-rhymer, Eminem, his crutch has four wheels and rear suspension. Cars are prevalent in Em’s work, and their appearance is most always accompanied by random acts of violent behavior. Of course Eminem’s most apparent mention to cars and violence appears on the tracks "Bonnie & Clyde '97" and its prequel, "Kim." However, upon further inspection listeners discover Eminem’s referral to automobiles is far less sporadic, and may act as the lyrical security blanket for one of Hip-Hop’s most controversial figures.


THE SLIM SHADY LP features over 15 references to automobiles, all of which depict the vehicle being used to commit or carryout a crime. The track "Role Model" is the biggest offender, featuring three incidents of a car assisting in murder. Even more interesting is Eminem’s complete exclusion of foreign automakers. Raised in the motor-city, Detroit, Em’s affinity for the American automobile is obvious. Though he is rapping about committing some of the most deplorable acts ever burned to Compact Disc, there is a definite sense of affection as he nails his foot to the floor-board of his Ford.



With MARSHALL MATHERS LP we find a more mature and mordant Eminem. After being thrust into the public spotlight and watching his life unravel as a consequence, Em uses his anger to fuel some of the most thoughtful rap tunes of all time. On this, his third album, the car isn’t so much of a crutch as a tool. He doesn’t rely on tales of drunk driving or vehicular manslaughter to raise eyebrows, and though these crimes do appear on the album it is not nearly as frequent. Instead, Eminem tries to hold a mirror up to America. Tracks like "Kill You" and "The Way I Am," ask the nation, “Is Slim Shady the cause of our fascination with violence, or a result?” He carries his point well, once again conjuring up images of cars and violence in his narratives. In "Stan," the car plays a necessary piece in the story of a lonely sociopath frustrated with his inability to establish a connection with a celebrity who may understand him. It is a departure from the Eminem we had seen up until that point. "Stan" is a complicated murder-ballad layered with pencil scratches, rain and thunder cracks; a standout song in Eminem’s repertoire. In contrast, "Who Knew?" features a more indicative Eminem, with three references to car crimes.


Self-reflexive and skillfully written, the politically charged THE EMINEM SHOW could quite possibly be Em’s smartest album. He leaves it all on the stage, pouring his heart out into a record that not only provides listeners with a intimate view into his personal life but capsulated America’s growing resentment of the Bush Administration and its War on Terror. Not until track 6, a reenactment of the events leading up to his June 2000 weapons arrest, "The Kiss," do we hear Em allude to vehicular violence.



ENCORE plays like a B-side to its predecessor, barely scratching the surface of Em’s vast potential. Understandably, it fails to snatch the Grammy for Best Rap Album, his first major album not to win the award. Comfortable with his status, Em throws together a record that shows he has nothing left to prove. He doesn’t try very hard lyrically. The majority of the songs sound sophomoric in composition and substance, scratch tracks to THE EMINEM SHOW. The album plays out like a curtain call; a final swing and a miss as Eminem offers few signs of maturing since his last release. However, to his credit, Eminem gets through the album without relying on his crutch. Tracks such as "Like Toy Soldiers," a rousing drummer boy inspired tune dealing with the intricacies of rap feuds, and "Mockingbird," a touching love letter to his daughter Hallie-Jade and niece Alaina, cement his competency as a producer.


In fall of 2005, with rumors of retirement echoing throughout the industry, Slim Shady drops from sight, canceling the European leg of his world tour and checking into rehab for his dependency on sleeping pills. Ironically, Eminem’s absence causes him to be the perfect target for numerous death hoaxes on the internet, all of which revolve around car accidents. Perhaps those behind these E-pranks may have also recognized Em’s proclivity for violence and cars, and thought it would make for a believable end to the rapper’s life.


Where does the association come from?


Marshall Mathers, the boy that would become Eminem, spent the majority of his childhood moving back and forth between Detroit and his birthplace, Kansas City, Missouri. He was born just five years after the 1967 Detroit riots. Much of the damage caused was never fixed. Many of the social-economic factors responsible for driving Detroit’s African American population to violence were never corrected. As a result, Mathers grew-up in the wasted shadow of a once prominent American city. The majority of the city’s more affluent citizens had left Detroit. With racial divides only deepening, many whites that could afford to leave the city did. By the time Mathers and his mother finally settled in Warren, Michigan (just outside of the Detroit City Limits) he represented the minority, whites accounting for less than 20% of the overall population. Overwrought by poverty, Detroit became a gangland littered with abandoned/condemned buildings and lined with cars. By the 80’s the city that had once been hailed as the “Motor Capital of America” was noted as “The Murder Capital of the World.” Detroit, a Mecca of car manufacturing, was now synonymous with crime in the minds of millions, including Marshall Mathers. His first studio album, INFINITE, though indicative of afro-centric 90’s Hip-Hop with its jazzy trumpet blasts and random record scratches, features the automotive violence we’d become so well acquainted with on the SLIM SHADY LP.

By the time Eminem took his hiatus in 2005 not much had changed, Michigan had the 7th highest ranking for murder arrests in the country, according to the Department of Justice. Two years passed and word began spreading through the RIAA about an Eminem resurrection. By winter 2008 the buzz surrounding his forthcoming album was phenomenal and talk suggested a return to his violent roots.


RELAPSE is exactly that, Eminem falling back into bad habits. Campaigned as the return of Slim Shady, the album delivers on that promise. Em reverts to the "Same Song And Dance," relying on controversy to sell records - Homophobia, misogynistic lyrics, raping/killing young celebutantes, and more vehicular violence than the two albums that preceded it. Tracks like "3 A.M." reveal the rapper’s desperation to become the subject of outrage as he spits about pleasuring himself to Hannah Montana. The nasally diction and sing-song upward inflection introduced on "Ass Like That" from ENCORE becomes the prominent voice of the album, and it isn’t clear if Eminem is conscious of it or not. Honest, well-crafted, songs like "Beautiful" and "Underground" are lost in a sea of "Drug Ballad"s, sexual depravity in a Tahoe and statutory rape in vans.


So what does the reappearance of Eminem’s crutch mean?


Eminem running back to the mechanical mayhem that made him famous may be evidence of the unease he feels returning to hip hop. Despite the dark tone of the album, Eminem’s latest effort is formulaic, contrived and safe. How many times can he repackage the same Shady, and how long before he feels comfortable enough to drop the façade? With the release of a RELAPSE sequel set this fall we’re all left to wonder, what horrible crime does Slim Shady have left to commit?

If music is a representation of self, then Eminem owes listeners an album that plays as an accurate representation of a man who survived a hard life in the most urban of cities to become the king of a genre that once excluded him. We deserve bars about a single father doing his best to raise three kids while trying to douse his drug addiction and survive the pressures of super-stardom. We’re worth rhymes about a man refusing to surrender his craft and his attempt to reestablish himself as one of the best at what he does. There is a story there worth telling, and he’s got the resources to tell it. Hip-hop is dying from a lack of substance. If Eminem loses the crutches he once again finds himself leaning on, he could assist the genre to a speedy recovery, instead of inscribing another gimmicky footnote on the tombstone he’s helping to place.