The Marshall Mathers LP 2

The music is almost secondary, his production' often leaden beats a mere sideshow to mind-bending internal rhyme pyrotechnics that jab hard at the surreal dial. [Jan 2014, p.92]

Eminem might not be making “shock rap with Doc” like he used to be, but The Marshall Mathers LP 2 takes turns as equally bold and unpredictable as anything in his discography.

That he can rhyme more with a dated reference such as "Monica Lewinsky" affects neither his approach nor his ability to top Billboard, as happened yet again this month. That works only if you can get past 78 minutes of (potentially fictionalized) misogyny, homophobia, and allusions to killing or abandoning his family.

Some decent-enough songs on an overly long album mostly containing sub-par tracks from an artist capable of much more.

It is a testament to Eminem’s enduring talent that the album never feels laboured or even slightly dated. Instead, it is a perfect reflection of the world of Marshall Mathers in 2013.

The success here of being an album worth mention is derived from its encompassment of the past and present Marshall Mathers.

His flow only truly ignites through anger and reproach, and there are moments when his verbal dexterity amazes.

Funny thing is, most of the best moments on MM LP2 are just as angry, and just as irresponsible, but like "Closet," this is the tortured soul and self-reliance ninja known as Eminem at his very best.

The jokes, in places offensive, are relentless and ribald. There is no apology, though, no concession; just a considered, virtuoso application of talent.

While the Marshall Mathers LP sputtered toward the end, the sequel gets better past the halfway mark.

While Bad Guy"--which recognizes that he's no better than the bullies who damaged him--might be the closest Em's come to a mea culpa, it still fails to justify his cranking the cycle back up again.

He’s added a catchier more movie trailer-esque sound, what some call pop but I’ll just call Love the Way You Lie, but really, despite the upheavals in the world, despite his relapse and recovery from drug addiction, for better or worse Eminem at 41 is essentially the same artist as Eminem at 28-years-old.

[A] relentless, demanding and often convincing seventh major-label album.

Eminem’s too talented a rapper with too good a Rolodex for this to flop, but damned if Marshall Mathers LP 2 doesn’t give it a go.

Em's new songs give a facelift to old themes — but thanks to his still-astounding wordplay and creative beat choices (Rick Rubin's work on "So Far..." and "Love Game" is a hoot), you can still get lost in the wrinkles.

It’s wicked and it’s intense and it’s inappropriate and it’s unique and it’s brilliant and it’s essential.

Technical proficiency is overrated. Taste has to account for something, which means Eminem isn’t the Jimi Hendrix of hip hop. Instead, he’s in danger of becoming Yngwie Malmsteen: incredibly agile yet musically soulless. He says a lot of nothing on MMLP2, but I guess you can admire the way he says it.

As an artist revisiting a previous masterwork, he’s chosen to add maturity in all the wrong spots. Lowbrow nods interspersed with pointed criticisms of nearly everyone of note made Eminem a star, but most of the references and insults here feel dated. It’s about as timely as catching up on last year’s episodes of TMZ on your DVR.

This feels fresh yet familiar; a throwback picture in a modern frame. ... The truest of Eminem fans out there ... will absolutely lap it up.

MMLP2 makes it more plain than ever that Eminem is among a growing number of rap superstars who are little more than vestigial pieces shoehorned onto radio by inertia alone. The main takeaway of MMLP2 is that Eminem fails to realize that the formulas that worked so well for him in 1999 are at best tired and tame today, and can't be saved by his lyrical dexterity.

After years of stagnancy and tedious anger, he shows real growth on The Marshall Mathers LP 2.

There are at least a half-dozen verses in this album alone that stand amongst his best ever. ... Problem is, saying a whole lotta nothing for 70-plus minutes doesn’t exactly make for a compelling rap record.

The emotion and power is not missing from MMLP2--but you’re getting one with more perspective, a version which has seen 13 more years and has a different outlook on some of the same topics that he first visited in 2000.

It is no mere rehash. If anything, the sequel is more intense than the original.

The sense that we’ve all been here before, twice, is exacerbated by the tired samples and interpolations.

This one’s nostalgic in all the right ways, a worthy look back at the LP that made him the world’s most popular cult figure.

This is Eminem’s best record in a decade--and one of the most impressive, entertaining and addictive hip-hop albums of the year.

Although the production and detrimental hyper-lyricism place Eminem’s worst habits on display throughout the album, there is plenty of good here. Extremely compelling is the theme of Eminem’s growth.

Even in his rare clunky moments, Eminem burns with purpose on MMLP2.

The album's production offers little that's new. Dr. Dre and Rick Rubin have crafted, or at least enabled, a few too many of the power-ballad slow jams that Eminem has grown increasingly fond of, alongside several guitar-driven anthems that come on as subtle as Jock Jams. Eminem is no one's hack, though, and the album has tantalizing moments of vintage performance.

He's playing his best character: the demon spawn of Trailer Hell, America, hitting middle age with his middle finger up his nose while he cleans off the Kool-Aid his kids spilled on the couch.