Eminem - "The Death of Slim Shady (Coup De Grace)"
Trigger Warning: everything
The Death of Slim Shady (Coup de Grace) has been out for a month now. It’s been about two weeks since I listened to it the first time, and boy do I have some thoughts.
This one might run long. You’ve been warned.
Because this album is a lot of things. And it starts with persona and self-definition. Marshall Mathers is Eminem is “Slim Shady”; real name, stage name, alter ego. All of these names are well-established in the cultural fabric of the late-90s American entertainment landscape. Even I, a 13-year-old bumpkin1 at the time, had heard of Slim Shady.
Eminem very quickly achieved superstar status. And while his skills (and racism) were a critical part of that, much of it was also his ‘don’t-give-a-fuck, say-what-you-mean’ approach. At a time when “politically correct”2 was a rising concern, some relished how Eminem so blatantly spat his stream of consciousness lyrics out as this “Slim Shady” persona, which Time called a “raging fantasy id”.
That article has another sentence I’d like to highlight, though:
“Slim's art is offensive, but offensiveness is his art.”
And that brings us to what ultimately inspired this particular album — Zoomers discovered him. Not only did Gen Z discover him, though, they started railing against him with attempts to cancel him in 2021.3 The really ironic thing here is that this all kicked off with somebody finding his incredible duet with Rihanna, “I Love the Way You Lie” and entirely missing the point.4
Yes. The song features Eminem as an abusive spouse. It brings attention to domestic abuse and how these relationships are cyclical; it is not an endorsement or romanticization.
Basically, though, Eminem saw the mob, chuckled, and said, “Bet!”
And that’s where The Death of Slim Shady begins — with Slim Shady leaning into the controversy as the album kicks off with “Renaissance”, featuring lyrics like “Shady's danglin' a baby tangled in a blanket, stranglin'/And hangin' him over the railing by the ankles on some gangster shit”5 and then mocks ‘fans’ who are overly critical; and “Habits”, which uses derogatives and slurs like “retarded”, “midgets”, “pussies”, and strings together about two dozen other opportunities to spark offense.
Tracks 2 and 3 (“Habits” and “Trouble”) also start to set up the frame story which dominates the album, though. It’s just a bit of the intro on “Habits”, but “Trouble” is the first skit track, at only 40 seconds. “Trouble” does call Gen Z out directly.
And if none of that is offensive enough, the fourth track, “Brand New Dance”, mocks Christopher Reeve, an actor who died fairly young (aged 52) due to chronic health issues, and was paralyzed from the neck down for the last nine years of his life. Reeve passed in 2004, so this year is the 20th anniversary of his death.
It’s the sort of thing that is indefensible. And then Slim follows this song with “Evil”, which, in the chorus, features Slim basically laughing and rubbing his hands together Dr. Evil style and singing “I’m so evil”:
Evil (Yeah), I'm so evil
Rotten to the core, a fuckin' twisted cerebral
I'm so evil, so evil
It's obvious that I am not like other people
'Cause I'm evil, I'm so evil
Rotten to the core, a fuckin' twisted cerebral
I'm so evil, so evil
It's obvious that I am not like other people (Yeah)
Literally, this is the most basic anything Mathers has ever written.
If you have not, at this point, figured out that something more is afoot with this album, I must wonder where your brain is.
Because every line Mathers writes does something. Even if that something is just set-up for the next line to carry three or four meanings. As much as I try to keep up and would love to get reviews out only about a week after an album launches, the delays do have benefits, especially with lyricists like Eminem, because by now the fans have had a lot of time to parse the lyrics and figure out most of the references. The Genius pages for this album are 90% highlighted.
There are a few more notable moments before the turn (because there is a turn; the album is literally titled The Death of Slim Shady, and that’s the persona which is in the driver’s seat for the entire first half or so of the album):
The next two songs after “Evil” are titled “Lucifer” and “Antichrist”, which is so on-the-nose. These two songs are preceded by a skit in which Slim tells Marshall that, “hey, you’re only famous because of me; I’m all you got”, and this kicks off a segment of the album in which both Slim and Marshall take turns at the mic as Mathers falls into step with Slim, giving in to his worst impulses.
He returns fire at Candace Owens in “Lucifer”, an exchange which began when Eminem sent a cease & desist order to Vivek Ramaswamy, who kept singing/rapping Em’s song “Lose Yourself”. Owens responded to the C&D news with (the attached link is the video pictured in the screencap below):
In “Road Rage”, he doubles down on some of his more old-school views which have recently begun to be seen as problematic, acknowledging that he understands that he might be perceived as fatphobic (because, from his perspective, he is critical about people ignoring their health) or transphobic (because he has zero interest in having sex with trans women). Throughout the song, several lines and the backing vocals indicate some level of confusion, which marks the beginning of the turn, but also illustrate the nuance of Mathers’ position. He does see himself as a Democrat (describing himself as “in the blue corner”), but he also has all of these older, outdated perspectives.
“Houdini” begins with Em’s manager, Paul Rosenberg, calling to say he’s been listening to the album and he wants nothing to do with it. Other sources state that this mimics skits with Rosenberg in multiple albums through Mathers’ career.
Immediately following the track’s five-second intro skit, the song kicks off with an interpolation of Eminem’s own “Without Me”, one of his most popular songs from the early aughts.
“Houdini” also interpolates “Abracadabra” by the Steve Miller Band in the chorus.
“Houdini” is dominated by the Slim Shady persona, and its core point seems to be that, like Houdini, Slim makes others disappear, and nobody will ever make him go away. It’s worth noting that Mathers turned 52 this year; Harry Houdini died at the age of 52.
The album comes to a head with “Guilty Conscience 2”, a rap battle between Mathers and Slim Shady. It begins with a slow build toward Slim taking over again, but Em fights back and calls out all of the “fucked-up shit” that Slim has been saying. And since the original “Guilty Conscience” came out in 1999, this song serves as an extended apology for everything he’s said over the last 25 years.
The song ends with the lyrical murder of Slim Shady, and then Eminem waking up to a phone call from his manager. The album moves on to “Head Honcho”, in which Mathers takes full control of Slim Shady, symbolically breaking all of his bad habits and manifesting change.
Track 15, “Temporary”, becomes one of the most important songs on the album, as Mathers writes a song specifically for his biological daughter, Hailey. The majority of the vocals are sung by guest artist Skylar Grey, and include audio clips from videos Mathers has taken of moments with his daughter throughout her childhood. Album closer, “Somebody Save Me”, is another heartfelt track directed to the people close to Mathers as he addresses his demons directly, specifically his old drug addictions.
As soon as “Guilty Conscience 2” ends, the slurs end; there are no more controversial statements or lines angling for shock value. Eminem has taken the reins. He’s not this young idiot anymore6 — he’s in his early fifties now and he’s grown and changed…and maybe it’s time that he accepts that.
He has to accept that he can no longer just hide behind the Slim Shady persona.
After listening to the album the first time, I was poking around at what others were saying about it — and I feel like the controversy around it has scared every other professional critic out there. The highest score is a 4/5 from The Daily Telegraph, and that one stands well above the next closest, with some scoring it closer to 4/10. Clash scored it at a 5/10 while saying that “it features some of Eminem’s best rapping in a decade.”
It is not, of course, a perfect album. A lot of the lines are genuinely triggering. However, that is what Capital-A Art should do — make us think, make us question. Across this album, Mathers pokes fun at society, how our society has evolved, and he doesn’t hold back on his satirizing.
Even when discussing the perspectives of the side he largely agrees with.
Most of all, he doesn’t hold back from using the same satire and harsh critique of himself. This isn’t a “haha cancel me bruh” album. The entire point of the album is Mathers coming to terms with the need to change — with accepting change and, more importantly, responsibility.
So if he needs to lean into the worst aspects of the Slim Shady persona to drive the point home, including, as “Guilty Conscience 2” points out, reviving a song mocking Christopher Reeve which he shelved in 2004 when Reeve died, then for the sake of showcasing his evolution, why shouldn’t he?
Honestly, the biggest issue with this album is that it’s going to be hard to include some of these tracks in playlists because of the level of cringe many of the lines induce. Even still, the songs are absolute fire. Mathers’ flow and delivery are perfectly honed.
It may be called Coup de Grace, but it may, frankly, be Eminem’s magnum opus. As a conceptual entity in its entirety, this album is incredible.
Problematic. But incredible.
Rating: Purple
No, seriously. I was raised in rural Georgia and only listened to Country music. I moved to the suburbs in 2001 and the first friends I made nicknamed me “Cornflake” because of my accent — and this was still in Georgia.
This was the term that the Right raged against before “woke”.
Honestly, I love Gen Z. I love their energy. But they’re wrong on this one.
Rihanna was famously, actually abused by then-boyfriend Chris Brown (no bolding because I have zero respect for Chris Brown) in 2009. “Love the Way You Lie” came out in 2010.
Reportedly, Eminem did record a song with Brown in 2009 in which he sided with Brown, but the song was scrapped and never released. A snippet leaked in 2019, which is the only reason we know it existed.
Personally, I think it’s more reasonable to be upset with Mathers over recording something with Brown than to be mad about “Love the Way You Lie”; but at least he seemingly saw sense and buried the track.
It’s important to note that Michael Jackson actually did hold his kid off of a balcony in 2002, which this line references.
A bit of wordplay in “Guilty Conscience 2” actually sees him calling himself out directly, using the original meaning of “retarded” to refer to himself as “slow”; again, this relies on the fact that this song comes 25 years after its namesake.