Dr. Dre - 2001

Interscope Records: 1999

A Very Important record, this, accomplishing many things all at once (hay, guys, remember all those G-funk rappers!?), forming ripples in the world of hip-hop still in effect. For sure it brought Dr. Dre back to the forefront of rap discourse, a strange achievement when you reflect on what he'd accomplished as a producer throughout the '90s: popularizing G-funk, discovering Snoop Dogg, crafting some of the biggest hits Tupac and Blackstreet put out. Hip-hop is fickle though, eager to flock to the next big hype as established vets start piling on the years. Following the flop that was The Firm, with Southern rap making huge commercial inroads (never mind its quality, No Limit Records was a marketing juggernaut), and you can understand why folks figured a guy who made his name ten years prior would have been regarded as old-hat.

Then along came a white saviour, and suddenly everyone was talking about Dre again. Eminem must have done more than given the good Doctor a new protégé though, as Mr. Young hit the studio again for a new album of his own. Not that he needed to prove he could still drop rhymes as he did with The Chronic, but hey, when you want to emphatically put to rest whether you 'still got it', you go at it with all you got. And he sure done did that, folks still holding out against hope that he'll release a way-overdue follow-up to this album. Man, just let it go already. Dre's got headphones to sell, yo'.

Right, Dre's not much a lyricist, and the truth is 2001: The Nu Chronic doesn't do much to dispel that fact. When he's poppin' off about his past successes, reflecting on changes in the rap game, taking down his doubters (The Watcher, Still D.R.E., What's The Difference, Forgot About Dre), or even offering a heartfelt tribute to his dead brother in The Message, the Doctor easily holds his own among the plethora of guest spots. Half this album goes on about fucking women though, topics far more capably handled by smooth cats like Snoop Dogg and Nate Dogg (and outright douches like Kurupt). Anytime Dre goes on about “fucking bad bitches”, he almost sounds apologetic to his wife in doing so. Sorry, hun, but the boys need their strip club anthems.

Whatever your thoughts on lyrical content, no one denies that 2001: A Chronic Odyssey is all about the beats Dre and Mel-Man crafted here. No matter how tuned out I get hearing about 'guns, blunts, 40s, and bitches', each G-funk cut on here keeps me coming back for more, rhythms packing trunk-rattling punch with twitchy keyboards, plucky strings, and triumphant horns. And with so many of Dre's big rap friends on hand dropping rhymes (Snoop! Em'! X'! Dogg Pound! Devin! Roq! ... Hittman? Who that? And why's he all over this album?), 2001 comes off like a big ol' Westcoast gangsta' party that you're invited to. Yes, even you suburban white kids in middle-America.

Eminem - The Slim Shady LP

Interscope Records: 1998

Seven years wasn’t long enough for the bitter aftertaste of Vanilla Ice’s brief dominance at the top of the charts. Perhaps that shameful moment in hip-hop’s history could never be cleansed from public consciousness, forever ruining whatever hope white rappers not named Beastie Boys might have in breaking it in that scene. Heck, the only other marginally successful Caucasian group in ’97 was ICP, and few gave them much care since they were so thoroughly committed to their clown show, no one took them seriously. And hip-hop are serious musics, see, dealing with serious issues of the day, and serious stories of rags to riches. What could a white boy from Detroit know of hardships in America?

Plenty much, turns out. Via an extreme persona dubbed Slim Shady, Eminem offered a look inside the side of life below the poverty line for American Caucasians (re: white trash), a topic almost unheard of in the world of rap. Punk rock, sure; metal, of course; blues and country, sometimes yeah. Hip-hop though, that's music for the black community, performed for the black community – how could they relate to the things Mr. Mathers dealt with?

Not much, to be honest, but they couldn't deny his skills on a microphone, spitting out battle rhymes and telling stories on par with any of the best MCs of the ‘90s. It was enough to draw the notice of Dr. Dre himself, hearing fresh fire in the kid from Detroit that hadn't been heard in hip-hop for years, the old guard all too comfortable in their established roles. Eminem had the talent, the unique perspective, and the drive to take the world by storm; all he needed was the guidance, which Doc' Dre provided. Then they released the corny-ass My Name Is, instantly dividing the MTV generation on whether Eminem could ever be taken seriously.

Oh all right, it was mostly me, but I don't doubt I was alone in suspecting Eminem nothing but a novelty one-hit wonder after that video. Hell, even the stuff he was graphically detailing wasn't too far off from the shock humor of South Park and Jerry Springer. Hip-hop associates kept telling me, “Don't judge him by that one song, it's the worst one off the album. You gotta' hear the rest of it, man!” Yeah, yeah, I'd nod, but considering I had yet to take my proper rap plunge, fat chance I'd ever hear The Slim Shady LP in full. Still, tracks like Guilty Conscience, My Fault (aka: the mushrooms song), and Role Model did find their way to my ears at the odd house party, and I couldn't deny they were fun, twisted tunes.

But nay, it wasn't until after hearing The Marshall Mathers LP and growing to appreciate Eminem the artist that I finally went back to The Slim Shady LP. And lo’, it was indeed a good album, a wild, reckless ride through lower class society’s worst traits. I sure don’t want to stay there for long though.

BushX - Sixteen Stone

Interscope Records: 1994/1996

This being a Canadian blog, I must call this band BushX. The Can-Con Commission is ruthless, often breaking knees over preserving our heritage, including making sure a home-grown Bush band doesn't get overshadowed by a foreign Bush band. What's funny is with the immense popularity of Gavin Rossdale's group, Roy Kenner's group got more publicity for their infringement lawsuit than any of their music garnered - from the Gen-X crowd anyway. What's even funnier is it worked, my brain still subconsciously treating this album as a BushX record, not a Bush one. This, despite the fact BushX technically no longer must be called BushX within our borders. Guess after London Bush disbanded for a while, Toronto Bush saw little need for anal-retentive clarification of whose Bush is whose.

Anyhow, Sixteen Stone. This was a ridiculously popular album back in the day, though I'm hard pressed to think of anyone admitting they throw it on anymore. It certainly hasn't aged as terribly as many other post-Nirvana grunge bands, but nor does it have the gritty charm of the original Seattle invasion. BushX sound just a little too polished with their distortion, a little too clean-cut in their angst, a little too big label produced for a supposed grassroots music scene. And yet almost no one initially wanted to sign them. Grunge from the UK? Balderdash!

Super success notwithstanding, the band has a humble beginning, Gavin and fellow guitarist Nigel Pulsford joining forces through a mutual love of Pixies. They're competent musicians, knowing their way around feedback and riffs that are heavy, dreary, and all that good grunge stuff. I dunno though, it all feels off, even to these ears that have as little exposure to the genre as a '90s teenager could hope to achieve. Matters aren’t helped when Gavin just doesn't strike me as a 'proper' grunge leading man, y'know? I cannot deny he's got stage presence, a look and voice just as impressive as Cobain's wretchedness, Scott Weiland's hot mess, and Eddie Vedder's pearly whites. Wouldn't he be better served fronting a traditional heavy alt-rock band though?

Whatever. Machinehead’s a kick-ass tune, no one can ever deny that. Most of the other songs rock well enough for a casual listen, and I’m sure almost every girl made out to Glycerine before Aerosmith stole BushX’s teen dance thunder. Hell, even Ishkur was a big enough fan to get this limited edition 2CD version with a bonus live recording included. Explain yourself there, mang.

Ishkur: “I had that? I had no idea.”

Dammit, doesn't everyone obsess over their CDs?

Honestly, I was curious to hear how disc two sounded, whether the studio polish of CD1 capably translated to stage performance. Screaming girls aside (because of course), it was pretty cool, the band sounding much looser and Gavin’s singing straining in a cool sort of way. Maybe the band realized this rougher sound served their music better, going with Steve Albini for their second album. It didn’t serve their sales though.

Jurassic 5 - Quality Control

Interscope Records: 2000

Underground hip-hop, 'backpack' rap... whatever you called it in the late '90s, everyone agreed it was about as non-commercial as the music could get. The MCs involved cared not for bragging about how gangsta' they were or how much bling they made; rather, they were in it for the purist followers of the Four Pillars, outmatching their rapping brethren in verbal wordplay and flaunting their radio unfriendly status on the mixtape circuit. And though a few acts occasionally poked out of obscurity, most casual consumers of hip-hop figured the 'backpack' scene little more than MCs way out of touch with the trends, all too stuck in Golden Age goofiness. Then along came a Jurassic 5.

Right, the J5 crew weren’t the first successful hip-hop act in giving the underground, conscious side of things a needed boost – The Roots had plenty of critical and commercial buzz too. However, The Roots have long been considered a unique entity, what with all those ‘real instruments’ and shit. J5 were strictly old-school, four MCs (Chali 2na, Zaakir, Akil, and Marc 7) and two DJs (Cut Chemist and DJ Nu-Mark) showing off their skills on the courtyards, skate parks, and graffiti spots. Simmering as darlings of Los Angeles backpackers only gets you so far though, and in a move that strangely never derided them as sell-outs, J5 signed a deal with Interscope Records. To that point, the only hip-hop that label ever bothered with was material only associated and approved by Dr. Dre. Okay, Black Eyed Peas too, but almost everyone’s forgotten that act’s old-school cred’, including the Peas themselves. Point being, few could have predicted an underground hip-hop darling would sign to a label who's recent successes included the likes of No Doubt and Limp Bizkit.

The trick worked though, their debut on Interscope (and sophomore LP), Quality Control, gaining J5 greater exposure and the attention of rap fans looking for something of more intellectual substance than bling, bitches, and hyper-violence. These four MCs all play wonderfully off each other, allowing each equal opportunity to shine on verses while perfectly harmonizing on the choruses. Meanwhile, Cut Chemist and Nu-Mark each take turns behind the decks and producer’s console, providing ample amounts of throwback funk for their crew to feed off. Most of the tunes have J5 showing off their lyrical skills, whether as freestyle, ‘keepin’ it real’ brags, or metaphor (gotta’ love a good ol’ basketball rap with The Game). Elsewhere on this album, they tread typical conscious topics like the fallacy of seeking fame (World Of Entertainment (Woe Is Me)) or finding ways of overcoming inner city difficulties with dignity intact (Contribution). For my money though, the turntable showcases are where it’s at, especially Nu-Mark’s Swing Set, where he raids a ton of old-timey jitterbug rug-cutters and mashes them up with funk drum breaks. Top notch material!

Quality Control’s gone down as one of the essentials of throwback Golden Age hip-hop albums. Get it to start your collection if you haven’t already.

Eminem - The Marshall Mathers LP 2

Interscope Records: 2013

Remember when Eminem released Lose Yourself? Along with being his all-time best charting single, it also presented us a Mr. Mathers unlike anything we'd seen before, its anthem guitar licks and rousing chorus inspirational rather than confrontational. It won over even his most ardent detractors within the hip-hop community, placing him firmly at the top of his game. Earning such status within the rap world, the only place left he could go was down. So down he went, though no one expected it happening as suddenly as it did.

A bunch of crazy stuff followed in the ensuing decade, but imagine if it hadn't. Imagine if Eminem carried on from that peak undeterred from all the personal problems affecting him. The Marshall Mathers LP 2 is as close to hearing that possibility as we'll likely ever hear.

Throughout this album, Em' goes on about the trials he faced growing up, reflecting on his career, and simply showing off why he's long been regarded one of the best MCs to ever command a microphone. All topics he's covered before, true, but there's more fire in his spitting, more urgency in his delivery, and even humbleness for his success alongside his rapping bravado. This is the recovery everyone hoped he'd reached at some point, and if it took a call-back to his most successful album, so be it.

Like I said though, MMLP2 feels more like Lose Yourself-era Em', especially with big, catchy guitar licks galore (oh hi, Ricky Rubin). That said, the music's still very much of the here and now, even when purposefully trying to sound like 1986 – no one could wring that much mileage out of a TB-808 back in the day. There's not a duff cut in the lot, plenty of variety between the beats, and enough ear-worm tracks that you'll seldom reach for the skip button. I'm not so much a fan of the 'Rhianna-duet' clones (including hers), but they're few and far between.

So yes, The Marshall Mathers LP 2 is as solid an album as folks have claimed. Of course, the million dollar question is whether it's better than the original Marshall Mathers LP. It's by a hair-width, but no, MMLP2 is not a better overall album.

Despite containing a superior selection of tracks, that's all they are: tracks. You could shuffle most of these, subtract a few, perhaps add some from the deluxe version, and it wouldn't affect the music's flow or even the final product much. MMLP1, on the other hand, feels like a cohesive whole, where the weaker parts (skits, repetitive topics in the back-half) accentuate the standout moments and roller-coaster of emotions you might experience. As a play-through, MMLP1 is more complete, even if I'm not nodding my head as often as MMLP2. Still, if having tune after tune of Eminem reminding us why he deserves his crown after all these years, then The Marshall Mathers LP 2 shouldn't be missed, even by ‘proper album experience’ twits like myself.

Eminem - The Marshall Mathers LP

Interscope Records: 2000

I admit I've yet to check out The Marshall Mathers LP 2. Yes, I know it's been heralded as a proper-proper return to form for Eminem (no, for realsies this time!). To be honest though, it's hard to get excited about anything Eminem's done for over a decade now, as I gave up on his shtick around the D12 debut, not even bothering with The Eminem Show (“nobody listens to techno”? Lamest. Diss. Ever.).

For all the verbal dexterity lil' Slim's given us over the years, I suspected early he's only as good as he's got something poignant to prove. Slim Shady LP was about making his mark, Marshall Mathers LP's about dealing with his successful aftermath and not coming off as a novelty (hey, look at the good white rapper!). The Eminem Show though, what's left to prove? Sure, he can still come up with decent songs filled with sly wit, but it's a treading album. If I want to hear more of Em' dealing with fame, issues, and shit, I'll just throw on MMLP again, thanks. It's got better songs. After that... well, I jumped ship early, and turns out my assumptions about Eminem's drive as an artist weren't far off. Still, if the buzz surrounding MMLP2 is true, it would indeed appear that he's hungry in all the right ways again.

But enough of that. What is it about MMLP that’s held in such high esteem more than a decade on? Part of it truly was the growth in maturity as an artist Em’ showed us. Few rappers got as big as Mr. Mathers did in such a rapid amount of time, if ever. Lesser MCs often take their newfound fame as a chance to endlessly brag, but Em’ gives us a remarkably humble inside look into the pitfalls of such notoriety. Whether detailing over-obsessive fandom (Stan, The Real Slim Shady, Who Knew) or the societal conditions that could create an icon such as Slim Shady (The Way I Am, Marshall Mathers, Bitch Please II, Criminal), he illuminates American problems along with the shock stories and battle raps. Yep, he proved he could do conscious hip-hop!

It also helped he had Dr. Dre on hand while the good doc’ was still on fire after Chronic 2001’s success, giving us strong beats aplenty with few duds. One of the few non-Dre highlights is the megahit Stan, whom introduced Dido to the US (eh, I already knew her through Faithless), and convinced housewives all over to buy this album. Imagine their surprise at how the rest of the album went, including the brutal endurance test that is Kim at the other end. Em’ also produced the fiery The Way I Am, proving his capabilities behind the boards as well with pen and paper.

This used to be the only Eminem album you were supposed to have, even if you weren’t an Eminem fan. Guess I’ll have to check out MMLP2 now to confirm that. Things I do for accuracy.