If you haven’t noticed, the past couple of months have seen Eminem emerge from his private life – one I imagine as a healthy balance of dysfunctional family time and sitting in dark corners thinking of puns – to voice his contempt for our country’s governing body via a trail of singles, ending with his first studio album in four years, Revival. Despite the 45-year-old rapper’s most well-meaning(?) attempts at woke-ness and personal reflection, it’s pretty much a general consensus that the album is an over-commercialized political piece at best and a bloated shitshow at worst. However, as a (metro) Detroit-native who grew up on Slim Shady, it’s pretty much a requirement for me to hold an allegiance to him, even in his darkest hour. Which is why, instead of sharing my personal thoughts on the album, I decided to highlight some of the sickest burns from music journalists across the internet, aimed at the diss-master himself.
It should come as no surprise that the most scathingly brutal, yet not untrue, review came from Pitchfork. The cool kids who crown themselves “the most trusted voices in music” really know how to hit a guy where it hurts – and make everyone agree with them. Rap contributor Matthew Ismael Ruiz gave the record a stinging 5.0, unimpressed by what he deems “overwhelmingly bland hooks” and “cringe-worthy humor.” Ouch, Matthew! What hurts even more is… he’s not wrong. The clever wordplay that Mathers is known for crosses into really distasteful dad-joke territory with lines like, “I’m swimming in that Egyptian river, ’cause I’m in denial” on “Need Me.” Why, Marshall? Why?
Ruiz closes with a dig at the record’s recurring theme of self-doubt: “Though it’s easy to empathize with his creeping self-doubt, it’s tougher to swallow in the context of an album that ultimately proves that those doubts are correct.” So much for not listening to the voices inside your head.
The New York Times, who I would normally expect to be a bit more subtle with its abhorrence of a subject, was not shy about loathing Revival. The second writer to describe Mathers’ try at a heart-wrenching patriotic ballad “Like Home” as “toothless,” Jon Carmanica also unleashes his wrath on Eminem’s dry puns. “What has long felt like extreme facility with language is beginning to feel like an uncontrolled fire hose,” writes Carmanica, who continues to elaborate on Mathers’ degenerating lyricism with the song “Framed.” “The song is both excellent and reprehensible,a reminder of how sui generis Eminem felt at the beginning of his career, and how poorly he has aged.” Not everyone can be a fine wine.
While Ruiz and Carmanica slay Shady with intellectual insight and polished rhetoric, I really have to give the creativity crown to Brian Josephs of Spin. The common thread that binds the three writers is a shared disapproval for Mathers’ tired pun-game. Josephs asserts that “nearly every punchline winds up feeling as forced as a stranger sparking a conversation at a urinal.” I could say that, as a woman, I don’t know what that feels like, but I’d be lying. Anyway, Josephs further solidifies his descriptive genius by coining “Need Me” a “vomitous sonic Crayola mess,” thereby raising the bar of shit-talking as I know it.
However, probably the cringiest display of public slander is Eminem’s own description of his songwriting process, given to NPR’s Michael Martin.
“When I’m writing, sometimes an idea or a line will pop in my head, and I’ll be like, ‘Yo, that thought is messed up.’ And I either laugh to myself or I say, ‘You know what? That might be just going too far.’ So, have I ever took it too far? I probably have, who knows?”
Detroit is a perplexing musical playground. From the greats of Motown all the way down to (like, rock bottom level down) king of the trailer park Kid Rock and his pasty, ornery 8 Mile loving opposition, Eminem to minimalistic power duo, The White Stripes and that guy selling a surprisingly fire rap demo in the gas station parking lot, the fabric of Detroit’s musical reputation is eclectic and strange; a fitting categorization. But what often gets overlooked is Detroit’s unbreakable continuing history of women in music. While compiling this list of friends, virtual unknowns, and local legends, I found I was overcoming my own poorly formed belief that Detroit was deficient in powerful female influence. Detroit is ferociously defined by the voice, talent, and unwavering sense of “Yeah, I got this” best demonstrated by these babes. The collection of women below share in their uncompromisingly daring expressions of self which in turn is a reflection of Detroit’s maverick spirit.
Jax Anderson, lead queen, is a powerhouse. Unsigned rockers, Flint Eastwood are on to something. Slinking rock-revivalist vibes tinged with Sleater-Kinney moments and vocal ferociousness that could give Alison Mosshart a run for her money, Flint Eastwood makes The Black Keys sound like watered down elementary school karaoke.
Married electro punk duo ADULT. fronted by Nicola Kuperus and Adam Lee Miller, is Detroit’s answer to Devo, Romeo Void, and Wall of Voodoo without ever feeling like an imitation. First assembled in 1998, ADULT. is an obscure and active staple and in many ways a pioneer in the formation of Detroit’s current synth punk scene.
Formed in 1997 by Amy Gore, The Gore Gore Girls are one of the cities most influential psych-punk bands. Fittingly named after a 70’s splatter flick, The Gore Gore Girls have toured as support to The Cramps and have played festivals with The Stooges, The Strokes, and The Zombies. Over the course of ten years and three albums, they’ve managed to maintain their psychedelic, raised-from-the-dead sound that continue to set the stage for some of the other ladies on this list.
4. SUZI QUATRO “IF YOU CAN’T GIVE ME LOVE”
https://youtu.be/L0uWVw4aBxY
Detroit’s under credited queen of rock is as much of an influence today as she was when she hit the scene back in 1972. Although not the first of her kind, Quatro paved the way for girls who could hang with the boys by crafting a subdued androgynous persona on stage and a roaring rock sound behind the mic. Considered one of the first female bassists to break through in the boys game of rock n’ roll, Quatro remains one of Detroit’s baddest women of rock.
Singer Rachelle Baker and producer Nick Marrow make up Little Animal, a dreamy duo responsible for the sexiest music in town. Smoothly assembled, celestial textured electronic beats that could be easily be the love child of Erykah Badu and Bjork.
Ruth Synowiec fronts Mexican Knives, a buzzy, lo-fi blues rock band with biting bass lines and pulsing surf punk undertones. Alongside guitarist Zach Weedon and drummer Blair Wills, Synowiec vocals are a perfect counterpart to their Brian Jonestown Massacre tendencies. She may have told The Detroit Metro Times last year that she “has no idea what she’s doing” although endearing, it’s clear that she’s wrong.
Asia Mock, Sarah Stawski, and T.J Grech are Pretty Ghouls, an angsty, raw nerve punk trio that is undoubtedly one of the hardest, fuzziest newcomers to come out of Detroit in recent years. Unapologetic, Pretty Ghouls channel Detroit god Iggy Pop through their own “fuck you” filter, which makes sense considering Mock told Detroit’s Metro Times in 2012 that she wants to be the first, black female Iggy Pop. “I just want to scream in people’s faces and maybe get to rub my vagina on something in public.”
Jessica Hernandez is a Detroit darling to the max. One of our cities most beloved female acts, Hernandez (and The Deltas, respectively) have birthed their own breed of soul/pop that is as sugary as it sexy. Colorfully confident arrangements paired with Hernandez’s signature saccharine vulnerability makes for some of Detroit’s grooviest pop.
9. CHEERLEADER “QUENCHED”
Flint-based Cheerleader, comprised of Nisa, Polly, and Ashley, is a muddy, gritty Nirvana-demo sounding trio who unabashedly thrash lyrics like “Little boys with big dicks/we need a cure for it” over messily effective compositions. Although Cheerleader doesn’t have a large collection of songs, they are a defiant presence in the Michigan underground.
10. EL DEE “HEAVEN HELP ME”
Lauren Deming, or El Dee, leads a group of friends/musicians into a jazzy throwback dreamscape all her own. Rich and pure, Deming’s vocals are breathy, yet challenging. Without a rigid commitment to an era niche, El Dee manages to fuse Gershwin-esque standards with contemporary arrangement not unlike Amy Winehouse or Jon Brion, with avoiding sounding like a “fusion” artist.
