Encore [Clean] [Edited] (CD - 2002)

THE EMINEM SHOW won the 2003 Grammy Award for Best Rap Album.

THE EMINEM SHOW was nominated for the 2003 Grammy Award for Album Of The

Year. "Without Me" was nominated for the 2003 Grammy Awards for Record Of The Year and Best Male Rap Solo Performance.

This deluxe limited edition includes a bonus DVD containing previously unreleased footage and interview with Eminem.

Personnel includes: Eminem (rap vocals); Nate Dogg, Dr. Dre, Obie Trice, Hailie Jade, D-12, Dina Rae.

THE EMINEM SHOW won the 2003 Grammy Award for Best Rap Album.

THE EMINEM SHOW was nominated for the 2003 Grammy Award for Album Of The

Year. "Without Me" was nominated for the 2003 Grammy Awards for Record Of The Year and Best Male Rap Solo Performance.

Personnel: Eminem (rap vocals); D12, Dr. Dre, 50 Cent, Nate Dogg, Obie Trice, Stat Quo (rap vocals); Steven King (guitar, mandolin, keyboards); Mike Elizondo (guitar, sitar, keyboards); Luis Resto, Mark Batson (keyboards); Che Vicious (programming).

Audio Mixers: Eminem; Tony Campana; Steven King.

Photographer: Anthony Mandler.

As one of the most controversial figures in hip-hop history, Eminem can be forgiven for being somewhat self-obsessed. THE EMINEM SHOW's opening cut "White America" sums up the notorious rapper's self-defense by keenly observing that while the color of his skin has something to do with his widespread popularity it's also the reason his lyrics are examined so scrupulously by critics who otherwise wouldn't bother. "I could be one of your kids" he proclaims, getting right to the heart of the matter. Despite the abundance of introspection, Eminem doesn't back up a single step on any of the themes that made him such a hot property. He's still into glorifying violence, as on "Soldier" one of the many cuts where he waves his broken-home/dysfunctional upbringing like a flag to justify the hatred that seeps from every pore of THE EMINEM SHOW.

Over the course of the album, he threatens to brutally murder so many members of his family that one begins to lose track, but this is just the kind of hard-ass image that's helped make him an icon. The aforementioned cut finds the former Marshall Mathers making one of his most telling statements; "I'll never be Marshall again." It's clear that the Eminem identity allows him to fully vent his rage and get lauded (by some) for it instead of imprisoned. In his continuing effort to show that he's as hardcore as any black rapper, he extends his rancor Professor Griff-stye to Jews on the skits "Paul Rosenberg" and "Steve Berman," the latter of whom we hear getting shot for whiningly taking Em's music to task. Love him or hate him, Eminem makes no apologies, and THE EMINEM SHOW is as strong a statement as he's made to date.

While Eminem has revealed levels of depth far beyond his Slim Shady persona, few could have anticipated "Mosh," the second single from his 2004 release, ENCORE. This song, by one of music's most controversial artists, features Em focusing his rage like never before, ultimately calling on the youth of America to rise up?and vote. While his brilliantly scathing tirade against President George W. Bush didn't lead to the politician's defeat, it certainly captured the country's attention and attempted to raise listeners' political awareness. It also effectively increased the already-huge stature of the expectation-defying Detroit rapper only a few weeks before his highly anticipated fourth record's release.

ENCORE is far from a letdown, as Eminem's twisted mind continues to produce razor-sharp rhymes, whether examining the world (the aforementioned "Mosh"), venting his spleen ("Puke"), exploring his soul ("Like Toy Soldiers") or just being plain silly ("My 1st Single"). While Em's inclination towards the shocking is well documented, other than "Mosh," the record is relatively toned-down; he even apologizes for racist comments made on a 1993 underground tape. However, that's not to imply that the proceedings are low-key; ENCORE burns with the fire of a master lyricist letting his words loose on whatever crosses his mind.

Eminem took a hiatus after the release of his first motion picture, 8 Mile, in late 2002, but it never seemed like he went away. Part of that is the nature of celebrity culture, where every star cycles through gossip columns regardless of whether they have a project in the stores or theaters, and part of it is that Marshall Mathers kept busy, producing records by his protégés D12, Obie Trice, and 50 Cent -- all hit albums -- with the latter turning into the biggest new hip-hop star of 2003. All this activity tended to obscure the fact that Eminem hadn't released a full-length album of new material since The Eminem Show in early summer 2002, and that two and a half years separated that album and its highly anticipated sequel, Encore. As the title suggests, Encore is a companion piece to The Eminem Show the way that The Marshall Mathers LP mirrored The Slim Shady LP, offering a different spin on familiar subjects. Where his first two records dealt primarily with personas and characters, his second two records deal with what those personas have wrought, which tends to be intrinsically less interesting than the characters themselves, since it's dissecting the aftermath instead of causing the drama. On The Eminem Show that kind of self-analysis was perfectly acceptable, since Eminem was on the top of his game as both a lyricist and rapper; his insights were vibrant and his music was urgent. Musically, Show didn't innovate, but it didn't need to: Eminem and his mentor, Dr. Dre, had achieved cruising altitude, and even if they weren't offering much that was new, the music sounded fresh and alive. Here, the music is spartan, built on simple unadorned beats and keyboard loops. Some songs use this sound to its advantage and a few others break free -- "Yellow Brick Road" is a tense, cinematic production, yet it fits the subject matter. Eminem has decided to chronicle what's happened to him over the past two years and refute every charge that's made it into the papers. This is quite a bit different than his earlier albums, when he embellished and exaggerated his life, when his relationship with his estranged wife Kim turned into an outlaw ballad, when his frenetic insults, cheap shots, and celeb baiting had a surreal, hilarious impact. Here, Eminem is plain-spoken and literal, intent on refuting every critic from Benzino at The Source to Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, who gets an entire song ("Ass Like That") devoted to him. While the album is a little long, it's worth a listen to hear the moments that work really well, whether it's full songs or flights of phrase. [Interscope released a clean version with the profanity edited away.] ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine

Eminem took a hiatus after the release of his first motion picture, 8 Mile, in late 2002, but it never seemed like he went away. Part of that is the nature of celebrity culture, where every star cycles through gossip columns regardless of whether they have a project in the stores or theaters, and part of it is that Marshall Mathers kept busy, producing records by his protégés D12, Obie Trice, and 50 Cent -- all hit albums -- with the latter turning into the biggest new hip-hop star of 2003. All this activity tended to obscure the fact that Eminem hadn't released a full-length album of new material since The Eminem Show in early summer 2002, and that two and a half years separated that album and its highly anticipated sequel, Encore. As the title suggests, Encore is a companion piece to The Eminem Show the way that The Marshall Mathers LP mirrored The Slim Shady LP, offering a different spin on familiar subjects. Where his first two records dealt primarily with personas and characters, his second two records deal with what those personas have wrought, which tends to be intrinsically less interesting than the characters themselves, since it's dissecting the aftermath instead of causing the drama. On The Eminem Show that kind of self-analysis was perfectly acceptable, since Eminem was on the top of his game as both a lyricist and rapper; his insights were vibrant and his music was urgent. Unfortunately, Encore is not the flip side of The Eminem Show as much as it is its negative image, where everything that was a strength has been turned into a handicap this time around. Musically, Show didn't innovate, but it didn't need to: Eminem and his mentor, Dr. Dre, had achieved cruising altitude, and even if they weren't offering much that was new, the music sounded fresh and alive. Here, the music is staid and spartan, built on simple unadorned beats and keyboard loops. While some songs use this sound to its advantage and a few others break free -- "Yellow Brick Road" is a tense, cinematic production -- the overall effect of these stark, black-and-white productions it to make Encore seem hermetically sealed, to make Eminem sound isolated from the outside world. This impression is only enhanced by Em's choice of lyrical subjects throughout the album. Instead of documenting his life, or the shifts in his psyche, he's decided to chronicle what's happened to him over the past the two years and refute every charge that's made it into the papers. This is quite a bit different than his earlier albums, when he embellished and exaggerated his life, when his relationship with his estranged wife, Kim, turned into an outlaw ballad, when his frenetic insults, cheap shots, and celeb baiting had a surreal, hilarious impact. Here, Eminem is plainspoken and literal, intent on refuting every critic from Benzino at The Source to Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, who gets an entire song ("Ass Like That") devoted to him. It's a bizarre move that seems all the more humorless when you realize that the loosest, funniest song -- the first single, "Just Lose It" -- is a sideswipe at Michael Jackson, the easiest target Em has yet hit. And that's the major problem with Encore: it sounds as if Eminem is coasting, resting on his laurels, and never pushing himself into interesting territory. Since he's a talented artist, there are moments scattered across the record that do work, whether it's full songs or flights of phrase in otherwise limp tracks, and that's enough to make it worth a spin, but Encore never resonates the way his first three endlessly fascinating albums do. [Interscope released a clean version with the profanity edited away.] ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine minimize