Eminem won best Male Artist and Rap Album of the year, and I’m just now getting around to Recovery. As if that weren’t bad enough, I’ve got to admit the damned thing almost made me tear!
This had never… happened to me before – – music-induced weeping is something I associate with maniacal Michael Jackson fans, over-excited, breathless, passing out at concerts. Not my crowd; not my speed; Fine… But if that’s the case, then why the spell of sentimentality?
Prior to dropping Recovery, Eminem was a wreck. Drugs, depression, low self-esteem – – each cooperated with the other in pulling his soul downward into despair. He believed his talent had been expended, that his best artistic days were behind him, that the lyrical phenom fans had once come to love and revere was now falling into the darkness of mediocrity…
But few things are as satisfying to the soul as an improbable comeback from the abyss. When the odds are against you, when you’re completely surrounded, trapped, boxed in – – what an explosion of joy to see the powerful cavalry rushing to your side from all angles, out in the distance.
In the abstract, that’s how I view Eminem’s album – – as the soundtrack to his heroic rise from the ashes. Through the process of recording Recovery, he proved to his fans – – and most importantly, to himself – – that he’s… still… got it… But even more than that, with this album he surpassed his entire corpus of work! Rapping as if his life were on the line, he performed at a level of skill never before seen. Which says what? It says he fulfilled himself… In other words he experienced, for that moment in time, the complete realization of his artistic potential. This is the alchemical magic of Recovery.
Em’s album opened my eyes to a fundamental truth about human nature: we all desire fulfillment, although many of us may not know it. As our lungs need air and our hearts require blood, our souls yearn for the cathartic gratification of unique self expression. We are but one among billions of seeds planted in the soil of life. Some of us bloom fully, some partially and yet others not at all. One of our most harrowing fears is the possibility of rotting in our husks – – stillborn – – dying before ever having blossomed into the distinctive manifestation that is our birthright… Marshall Mathers overcame this fear by turning inward,
