The Plastic Emino Show

In 1970, a 29 year old man from Liverpool recorded what became the most painful rock record to ever hit the listening public. It was a scream from the most anguished and hurt places of the human heart. From the pain of losing his mother to the disillusionment of stardom John Lennon And The Plastic Ono Band covered it all in a spare style that no one ever thought would have come from a member of The Beatles. If John had never been with The Beatles, he still would be remembered today as being one of the most honest icons rock has ever given us. Now, zip ahead with me 32 years where a 28 year old rap artist with two multi-platinum albums under his belt has recorded another opus of pain and anger. From absolute hatred of his mother to a disillusionment with stardom, he’s put it all out here for us.

Yes, I have the audacity to compare Eminem with John Lennon. But hear me out.

Let me start out by saying that I have never been a rap fan. Ever since its appearance on the music scene back in the mid-80s (I know it was earlier than that, but I was a white suburban kid) I have bucked against it and talked about how dumb it was.

Leave it to an enigma like Eminem to change that. Maybe not totally. I have yet to run out and buy Tupac’s latest CD. (That dude has a better career dead than he EVER did alive. Most of us white boys had never heard of him OR Biggy before they got shot. Yeah. Our heads were kind of in the ground. Shut up.) But I have all three of this Detroit kid’s albums and, through him, maybe a bit more respect for the industry itself.

Now, back to my semi-uninformed review.

With his third album, The Eminem Show, Em has taken all of the shit that people have dealt him, no matter who they are, and put it all on record. Sometimes he runs back to the cover of his snide, dark humor (“Business”), but a lot of times he just deals with his pain and the people who caused it (“Cleanin’ Out My Closet,” “White America”).

But how the hell can I compare JL to MM? Well, I’ll tell you.

Personally, I kind of think the two guys are kind of kindred spirits. (And a million Beatles’ fans just went to another website.) Not that I think they would have been best buds or anything. Hell, John would have been against Em because he would absolutely abhor the violence in his lyrics. He chose to make headlines with more peaceful ventures like his Bed-Ins and Bag-Ins and all the other -Ins that he and Yoko did. He wanted to be a clown to take the headlines away from the war. How did he get rewarded? The government had a file on him four miles long and eventually tried to deport him from his beloved New York City. (Of course, he probably would have lived longer if they had succeeded. A wrinkle even they didn’t think of…maybe.)

Even before that he got in trouble for slipping out with the thought that The Beatles were more popular than Jesus. Thousands of Bible-belters burned their records and never forgave him. He tried to apologize for it (although begrudgingly–his comment wasn’t supposed to be taken as seriously as it was, AND it was said in confidence to a journalist friend), but even that blew up in his face. Four or five years later he would have revenge by having a hit with a song telling us that “God is a concept by which we can share our pain.” (“God”)

And in 1970 it was almost unheard of for an artist of John’s stature to use words like “fuck” and “cock” on a record. But there they were, edited out of the lyrics sheet “at the insistence of EMI.”

Em, on the other hand, is controversial for his violence. He raps about killing his wife, raping his mother and ripping “bitches” tits off. Oh, and he’s a bit of a bigot, to put it nicely. If you take him seriously he seems to hate women and gay people. But he’s an equal opportunity hater: he hates everybody.

Now, erm, I know there’s no one out there who can condone almost anything this guy says. Even if he’s joking, which, hopefully he is. Hell, I like the guy and I’m not totally sure that he’s not serious at some times.

Personally, though, I think he says a lot of it to a) piss people off and b) show us how awful our world really can be. He’s showing us how things are in the areas of life that most of us just don’t want to go to. He’s got a sensitive side, though, and we’ll get to that later.

One big difference between these two guys is the feelings about their families.

Both of them were abandoned by their fathers and held animosity towards them for the rest of their lives. In “Mother,” John says, “Father, you left me, but I never left you. I needed you, but you didn’t need me.”

Quite a difference from Em’s “My faggot father must have had his panties up in a bunch, ’cause he split. I wonder if he even kissed me goodbye. No, I don’t. On second thought I just fuckin’ wished he would die.” (“Cleanin’ Out My Closet”) Somehow, though, they seem to almost be saying the same thing. John’s dad actually came back into his life during The Beatle years, but he really only wanted to get money out of his famous son.

Asshole.

John’s mom, on the other hand, was always put on a pedestal. She also abandoned him (and he says almost the same thing about her as what he said about his dad in “Mother”), but she did it because she knew she couldn’t take care of her son. She left him with her sister, Mimi, and came back into John’s life when he was very young. Unfortunately, just after they repaired their relationship, she was taken away again by a drunk driver as she was walking away from Mimi’s house.

John’s love for his mother touched his music throughout his career, “Julia” from the White Album and “My Mummy’s Dead” from Plastic Ono Band are the best examples.

Em’s a little less forgiving, with good reason. He hates his mother. I think that, if he were given a chance, he would make her not exist. She’s been trying to sue him for making her out to be a pill-popping bitch from hell, which she kind of seems to be. She even put out an album to try to counter-act anything that he said about her. It didn’t work. Everyone would rather believe that she made Em think he was crazy for years in order to get money for his “afflictions.”

According to John, his parents “didn’t want me so they made me a star.” (“I Found Out”) And they were “Just wishing for movie stardom.” (“Remember”) But “Look at me. Who am I supposed to be?” (“Look At Me”) John was never really able to figure out exactly what being a star was really all about. It wasn’t until those last five years of his life that he really felt comfortable with it. He was able to walk the streets of New York without a million people running up to him for his autograph. (Unfortunately, one of them who did came back for more later.) Before that, though, all he really wanted to be was a working class hero.

Eminem has the same kind of view of stardom. He’s got his two characters that he hides behind, and then there’s Marshall Mathers, the real guy. But “Nobody wants to see Marshall no more. They want Shady. I’m chopped liver.” (“Without Me”) He realizes that fame is a weird business. “But it’s reflection of self. We just explain it, and then we get our checks in the mail. It’s fuck up, ain’t it?” (“Sing For The Moment”) He also doesn’t seem to know how the hell he got so far: “I don’t wanna quit, but shit, I feel like this is it, for me to have this much appeal like this is sick. This is not a game, this fame, in real life this is sick. Publicity stunt, my ass. Conceal my fuckin’ dick.” And could this be his last album? “If I could go back, I never woulda rapped. I sold my soul to the devil, I’ll never get it back. I just wanna leave this game with level head intact.” (“Say Goodbye To Hollywood”–By the way, is Em a Billy Joel fan?)

And one last comparison: both of these guys have ended up being pretty much model fathers. John started out badly with Julian. He left Cynthia and pretty much never looked back, although the two did see each other and Julian had a cameo on John’s Walls And Bridges album in 1974. But when Sean was born in ’75, everything changed. John quit the business and set his sites on being the best father he could be. And Sean has never forgotten that. John was killed when he was only 5, but he has only fond memories of his dad. And he’s got a song on the last album to come out before the murder, “Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy),” one of the best songs ever written from a father to a son. (It’s also got one of the greatest lines ever written: “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”)

With Em things aren’t quite so cut and dry. After a messy (and almost murderous) divorce from Kim, he finally got custody of Hailie Jade. He has devoted his life to making sure that she has everything that he didn’t have, including a good, loving home. Strange for a guy who talks so much shit and violence on his albums. But he says that he “wouldn’t let Hailie listen to me, neither.” (Eh, I know this is on the album, but I can’t find it. Any help, here?) And he even SINGS a song for her (“Hailie’s Song”–of course) and does a duet with her (“I Think My Dad’s Gone Crazy”). One thing that’s a little weird is that, even when he’s singing to or with his daughter, he still cusses enough to make a sailor look at him and say, “What the fuck, dude? Calm down!”

But none of this actually tells you if I think the album is any good, although you can probably guess. I think it’s great! Probably the best one he’s put out. (A friend of mine says that it’s actually one of the best hip hop albums ever! I’m not exactly qualified to say that, but I figured I put it out there to see how many complaints I get.) “Cleanin’ Out My Closet” is the best track, but a lot of the other ones deserve mention. “Say Goodbye To Hollywood,” “When The Music Stops,” and “Sing For The Moment” (complete with Aerosmith sample and a positive message!) all warn of the dangers of fame from an insider’s point of view. (Is there any other kind?) “Hailie’s Song” is a cute little crooning opportunity for Em where he lets the song in his heart burst forth for his little girl. “My Dad’s Gone Crazy” is a funny track with Hailie providing the chorus and some comments along the way. (Note to parents, I’m sure she wasn’t in the studio when he did his part. Uh-huh. Sure.) “White America” starts things off with a bang against everyone that has come up against him in the past year. And he acknowledges the fact that, if he were black, no one would say a damn thing about what he says on his record and he wouldn’t have sold half as many albums as he has.

Probably true.

There are, however, a few tracks that aren’t really up to the standard of the rest. One in particular actually bothers me. “Drips.” Now, I understand that it’s about AIDS and having unprotected sex and all that, but with lines like, “Pussy residue on my penis” even I was a little shocked. And I don’t shock. That seems to be all this track is here for. The whole disease angle is almost secondary to using the word “pussy” as often as possible. (And, is it just me, or does the word “penis” just sound dirtier when rappers say it?)

And there’s the ever annoying presence of Ken Kaniff. I’ve never liked that character (he’s just fucking creepy) and the fact that he gets the last word here really pisses me off.

The fact that Em has to be the third or fourth person to release a song called or about “Superman” is kind of annoying, too. (Although it is kind of funny hearing him constantly say “Yo” and “Ho.” And it’s not too bad of a song.) Where are all of the Silver Surfer songs?

One bit of his personal life that I apparently haven’t heard about: What’s up with him and Mariah? She’s mentioned all over this album. Did he actually do her or is he just making fun of her? If he did, more power to him. Everybody needs a little crazy lay sometimes.

So, yeah. Great album. I think I’ve gone on for a little too long (No, really?!), so I’ll leave it at this: It’s nice to know that there are still some artists out there who aren’t afraid to put their personal lives on record. It seems like there’s way too much music out there that could have been written or performed by anybody. I say, the more personal, the better. It makes it emotionally hard to sing along to, but fuck it. Rock and roll (or hip hop) ain’t supposed to be easy.