The opener, "The Ringer", achieved these goals in an overwhelming way – he could have just released it as a single and claimed victory, just like the rest of the rest Kamikaze just serves as a repeat. He immerses himself in the trendy triplet flow and then accelerates in handy verbal trims, snaps at young rappers in specific ("Lil Pump, Lil Xan imitates Lil Wayne") and in general ("I heard you mumblin" but it is confused in mumbo jumbo / The era where I come from will bully you ") He calls back to his Donald Trump of 2017 and claims to have paid him a visit from the Secret Service, he grabs attention to & # 39; media journalists & # 39; who paths him (or rather: "Fleshy, a journalist / Can get a mouthful of meat / And yes, I mean, eat a penis") He does it all in peak form, disgusting and entertaining, and adds a riff about color blindness for fun.

He delivers variations on the same routine in the upcoming tracks, although he finds new hooks, higher numbers of syllables and new annoyances. He often plays a hip-hop version of Weird Al Yankovic, replacing the words of frequently heard movements with children's songs: "Brainless, eye drops", is his version of "Bad en Boujee". His point is that words nowadays do not matter to children, which is a fair, though evergreen accusation is that he predictably extends to a referendum on the intelligence of the generation below him. A lot of comparisons can be drawn between him and Nicki Minaj, another filthy poet who proclaimed her dwindling reach to the alleged dwindling intellect of the younger masses.

Really, however, Eminem is waging a war about aesthetics, and Kamikaze is better listening than revival because his conciseness confirms the value of Eminem as an entertainer: turn on the album and, no matter how you respond to his homophobia and sexism and eelta calls of mass shootings, you might be caught if he interferes one terrible thought in the other. Recent albums of objects from Eminem & # 39; s ire (Playboi Carti, Drake) do not even have the same appeal. Instead, they radiate vibes, changing the perception of the listener of time; the resulting pleasures lack both the stimulation and the exhausting properties of the Eminem experience. Perhaps the popularity of that hazy, meaning-agnostic sound at this moment is due to the nature of streaming, or to the national mood. Or maybe it is just the eternal swinging movement between the poles of popular taste.

It is certainly refreshing that in a genre that is mainly obsessed with statements about dominance, Eminem does not conceal his feelings of irrelevance. However, he tries to claim his influence. Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole, Joyner Lucas and a few other lyrics-oriented millennials are represented as disciples and / or named as names. Even his enemies are owed to him: "For if I am the music where you all grew up, then I am responsible for your retarded fools." He constantly spans his lungs and his brain, making methodical arguments with critics who have tampered with him because he is too poppy or too cumbersome; his answer is that they simply can not be satisfied. Maybe he is right about that and he has proven once again that he is great in what he does. But the darkest joke among all the clou rules here is that sweat and justice do not guarantee the affection of others – not now, but not before.