Somebody Save Me: 'The Death of Slim Shady' & Cancel Culture
Dear Slim, I think it's time that you retire.
If things ever get really bad for you, you could always just hop on the cancel culture train. It’s a tried and true way to salvage some sort of an audience after stepping in it with something when you don’t really have anything to say. When the hollow apologies are through, it’s an easy heel turn to make. Can’t we say anything anymore? Doesn’t anyone have a sense of humor?
Look, I enjoy a dark, dirty, or transgressive joke as much as the next guy. From my taste in comedy to listening to metal with graphic lyrics, I’m difficult to offend. I can also differentiate between someone who’s trying to be transgressive (and maybe failing) or someone who is simply hateful and just trying to disguise their ideology under the guise of art.
All that being said, there’s nothing more boring that you can do than just go off the rails and complain about cancel culture.
Shit, half the shit I say, I just make it up to make you mad. So, kiss my white naked ass.
-Eminem, “Criminal”
I was pretty late to hop on the Eminem train. The Detroit rapper rose to fame while I was in elementary school, and I was always aware of him, but I never really gave him a proper listen. During a music appreciation class in high school, a few classmates included “Lose Yourself” and “The Real Slim Shady” on their playlists, and I got hooked.
It was really only recently that I’d started exploring rap after years of being a rock and metal purist. Naturally, Marshall Mathers’ lyrical abilities really struck a chord with me the way that he had during his heyday.
This was also during the real second wave of his career. Eminem had released his first full-length album in five years in 2009 with Relapse. Though it was a critical flop (and pretty underwhelming to me), it did pave the way for what would be the biggest album of his second act: Recovery. The 2010 record is perhaps Eminem’s most personal album, reflecting on his sobriety, relationship to the music business, and mourning the loss of his friend, Proof.
After initially being very excited about Recovery, I really dove into the previous albums. I was enthralled by his initial three album run The Slim Shady LP, The Marshall Mathers LP, and The Eminem Show. Being an edgy 15-year-old, I reveled in the offensive language and violent themes throughout those first two albums. I started to think that the personal side of Eminem’s music was lame, and I’d preferred the darkness. Prior to my love for Eminem, Marilyn Manson was my hero, so of course, I was drawn to the edgier stuff.
Over the years, my feelings on Eminem have fluctuated. I do still enjoy those early records a lot, and I was excited for Eminem to sort of return to those roots on The Marshall Mathers LP 2. I’ve also changed my tune on Recovery. I think that it’s a solid exploration of his personal side, and I think the energetic songs on it really do have a place in his discography. Even though I don’t really think that the evilness of the Slim Shady persona has aged particularly well, I do also think there is a place for it in 2024. It serves as a time capsule from that period, but it also comes with the wink and the nod that made those albums enjoyable to older audiences at the time.
After the MMLP2, my feelings on the rapper have mostly soured. I’ve checked out each record he’s released over the years, but nothing has ever truly struck a chord with me. Even if a song here and there may have some element that I enjoy, I can’t say that I’ve gone back to Kamikaze or Music to be Murdered By.
When Eminem announced that he’d be releasing an album called The Death of Slim Shady earlier this year, I can’t pretend there wasn’t some excitement. Even if he was killing off the persona, perhaps one last gasp was what Shady needed to rejuvenate Eminem’s career. Still, there was skepticism. The last Eminem album that had peaked my interest was over 10 years old, and everything else was pretty lackluster.
The illusion started to shatter when Eminem released “Houdini.” Sure, it was a return to the sounds of The Eminem Show. There was a fun and funky beat, and a few lines that really did stick out (as cringe-worthy as the Megan Thee Stallion line is, it is memorable). Plus, I was never a fan of the Eminem singles. Still, the fire wasn’t there.
What did happen after that those was really something embarrassing for people around my age and older. Scrolling through TikTok, a few Stans began sharing videos of themselves lip-syncing to “Houdini” and making jokes about how “Gen Z is trying to cancel Eminem.” No one was. Really, I think some younger listeners just came to a real revelation: the new Eminem songs just kinda sucked.
It is something of a generational rite of passage to get annoyed at the younger people coming up after you. Still, to some extent, I think that making fun of people for not seeing the value in something that was popular many years ago is incredibly reductive and lame. The art that is truly great does transcend. People still listen to The Beatles and Tupac. They still watch The Godfather and The Breakfast Club. Even though there’s an audience for some of the stuff that hasn’t caught up with young people, it’s okay to just realize that the things you grew up with are no longer at the center of the culture.
Unfortunately, the whole Eminem vs. Cancel Culture angle truly seems to have struck a chord in Marshall Mathers’ heart. The Death of Slim Shady begins with the song “Renaissance,” which culminates in Slim taking shots at critics. He defends himself, J. Cole, Kendrick Lamar, Kanye West, Lil Wayne, and Joyner Lucas against “complainers” in the song’s culmination. “You nerdy pricks would find something wrong with 36 Chambers/It’s what they do to the greats/Pick apart Picasso and make excuses to hate,” he raps.
While it seems like a pre-emptive defense for anyone who dislikes the album (like I did), it’s more Machine Gun Kelly-esque than the closing rap battle in 8 Mile. In the next track “Habits,” Eminem shows that he has nothing to say, as he simply just tries to list all the offensive things he can. The message of the song is essentially: “How come no one can say anything anymore?” It’s just boring.
Ultimately, I don’t think Eminem really cares about any of the things that he’s rapping about. It reminds me a lot of Tom MacDonald. The alt-right rapper who built an audience making bad Eminem ripoffs, where he just complains about cancel culture and shows support for former President Donald Trump. There’s no substance besides saying “I’m going to say things to upset people.”
Granted, this was sort of what Eminem did back on TMMLP, but back then, he at least seemed hungry to establish himself as a great rapper. Now, he just sounds like one of the complainers that he tried to rail against in the opening song.
It happens in comedy a lot where someone steps in some form of trouble, and their response is to just hop on the cancel culture bandwagon. None of them really have anything to say. Marc Maron (another M&M) had a brilliant joke in his most recent special From Bleak to Dark that pointed out that the comedians, whose whole brand is being “anti-woke” really don’t have any perspective of their own.
It's disheartening to watch Eminem just take time to rail at transgender people1, Lizzo, Megan Thee Stallion, and fat people. Yes, there’s always been an element of the Slim Shady persona that is designed to simply offend and at this point it’s just lazy.
At this point in his career, Eminem is in his classic rock era. There are plenty of musical artists who had their prime 30 to 50 years ago who put out new music that has some semblance to their previous work. Listen to a song like “Living Proof” by Bon Jovi from their June album Forever. It shares DNA with songs from Slippery When Wet, but it’s not going to become a cultural staple like “Livin’ On a Prayer” or “You Give Love a Bad Name.”
As a diehard classic rock fan during my younger years, I did listen when the aging bands that I loved released new records, but most artists didn’t put out worthwhile records. It’s an excuse to move a few units for the ride-or-die fans, younger people who couldn’t experience the classic releases, or something to check out for the casual listeners. On tour, the band will play the single or maybe a few cuts from the album only to drop them from the setlist in the next tour. Eminem’s last four albums have been flops. The only people who really enjoy those songs are the Stans. He’s not going to dedicate significant portions of his set to Kamikaze if he performs live.
Ultimately, the most interesting track on The Death of Slim Shady is the sequel to 1999’s “Guilty Conscience.” In the song, Eminem wrestles with the Slim Shady persona and seemingly questions if taking all these shots is even worthwhile, looking back on beefs with the likes of Machine Gun Kelly, his past drug abuse, and even his strained relationship with his mother. Ultimately, it ends with a tongue-in-cheek “Haha” in the Shady voice, but the introspective look through his career really made it the standout song, similar to the outro verse to 2013’s “Bad Guy.”
The other moments that the rapper departs from the Slim Shady theme of the record are the songs “Temporary” and “Somebody Save Me.” Each track is an emotional message to his family, with the first being a love letter to his daughters after he’s gone, and the latter being a cry for help, looking back on his past addiction. Even though the sentiment is nice, the tracks themselves are boring. Still, it would be more enjoyable to just get a record of soft and personal Eminem songs rather than repetitive, cancel culture screed that he’s put out.
Thankfully, the record is being marketed as Slim Shady’s final act. Even though he’s been a long beloved character for Eminem’s fans, it seems the end truly does come with a whimper.
1. I’ve seen a few people commenting on Eminem’s support for his child Stevie, who is non-binary. It seems the argument some fans are making that everything he says about trans people on the record is meant to be satirical. Even if that’s case, it’s so poorly done that there will surely be a contingent of the audience that takes it as an endorsement of transphobia.
I’m performing my one-man show Almost Famous at Q.E.D. in Astoria, Queens on August 15. It’s a comedy show about being a writer, the power of music, and finding your place in the world. Get tickets here.
