In context, the worst thing about his casual fag-baiting is that it's at once so received-like the shock-horror his boys envision in "Amityville," the one provocation here whose boundaries are predictable-and, because he's a devastating wordslinger in every context, so hurtful anyway. Right, Marshall Whoever is homophobic right, he breathes. Unless you hope to convince the platinum hordes that you live on Mars, there's even less point moralizing about this one than there was with the last.
Sticking nine-inch nails through his eyelids, flattening a black bully with a four-inch broom, reminding his conscience/producer about Dee Barnes, watching helplessly as an abused Valley Girl OD's on his shrooms, cajoling his baby daughter Hailey into helping him get rid of her mom's body, he shows more comic genius than any pop musician since-Loudon Wainwright III? A. But he flat-out loves to rhyme-"seizure"/"T-shirt," "eyeballs"/"Lysol"/"my fault," "BM"/"GM"/"be him"/"Tylenol PM"/"coliseum," "Mike D"/"might be"-and you have to love the way he slips in sotto voce asides from innocent bystanders. Over an hour his cadence gets wearing, too. Daring moralizers to go on the attack while explicitly-but not (fuck you, dickwad) unambiguously-declaring itself a satiric, cautionary fiction, this cause célèbre runs short of ideas only toward the end, when Dre's whiteboy turns provocation into the dull sensationalism fools think is his whole story.
The Slim Shady LP Īnybody who believes kids are naive enough to take this record literally is right to fear them, because that's the kind of adult teenagers hate. Music to Be Murdered By: Side B (Deluxe Edition) B+.The Marshall Mathews LP 2 (Deluxe Edition).
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