I argued then that the brilliance of Eminem goes beyond the mad flow and the personal nature of the lyrics. He happens to be a master of using assonance, repeating the vowel sounds to make the lyrics resonate, to reinforce the mood. It's one thing to rhyme line-endings (my favorite? Probably the Beastie Boys' "Sometimes I like to brag/Sometimes I'm soft spoken/When I'm in Holland I eat the pannekoeken" from Super Disco Breakin') -- it's another thing all together to make every dominant vowel sound in a section cohere.
I figured it was time to revisit that analysis after the umpteenth playing of his new #1 single, Lose Yourself (from 8 Mile) on the radio on the way to/from Connecticut this weekend, because it uses the same tools to just the same powerful effect.
Two parts to focus on. As the song opens, watch the transition from eh's (and eh-ee's), which gives you a sense of nervousness, to the oh-ow sounds emphasizing being beat down. (Try saying these aloud for full effect.):
There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready
to drops bombs, but he keeps on forgetting
what he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud
He opens his mouth but the words won't come out
He's chokin, how? Everybody's jokin now
The clock's run out, time's up, over - BLAOW!
Compare that to the last verse, which has three distinct vowel sections, from the angry ooh-aw-ay trios to the hopeful i's to the a long series of ah's at the end, each of which comes back to Em's desperation:
Tear this motherf*ckin roof off like two dogs caged
I was playin in the beginning, the mood all changed
I've been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage
But I kept rhymin and stepped right in the next cypher
Best believe somebody's payin the pied piper
All the pain inside amplified by the
fact that I can't get by with my nine to
five and I can't provide the right type of
life for my family, cause man, these God damn
food stamps don't buy diapers, and there's no movie
There's no Mekhi Phifer, this is my life
And these times are so hard,
and it's gettin even harder
Tryin to feed and water my seed plus, teeter-totter
Caught up between bein' a father and a primadonna
Baby momma drama screamin on her too much for me to wanna
stay in one spot, another day of monotony
has gotten me to the point, I'm like a snail I've got
to formulate a plot, or end up in jail or shot
Success is my only motherf*ckin option, failure's not
Mom I love you but this trailer's got to go
I cannot grow old in Salem's Lot
So here I go it's my shot, feet fail me not
This may be the only opportunity that I got
Whatever you may want to say about his politics, you can't deny the talent.
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