According to reputable sources, Eminem is about to release a new album. 

Surprisingly, I’m interested to hear it. 

I say it’s surprising because I spent the early aughts just loathing everything he produced. The petulant hatred in songs like “The Real Slim Shady” made me angry enough to spit.

But then I was in this club one night, and I heard “Lose Yourself” for the first time, and I got into it before I realized who it was by.

And then I had to get over myself and acknowledge the man’s gifts. Once I paid attention to “Lose Yourself,” for instance, I was impressed by the rhythmic complexity of the lyrics and by how well the worked against the beat. I was also impressed by the cleverness of the writing, and by bow vulnerable it was.

From there, I realize Eminem had always blended impeccable craft with a furious display of his personality. Sometimes I empathized with him–like with the anxiety in “Lose Yourself” and the political rage in “Mosh”–and sometimes he made me angry, but how could I deny the importance of an artist who always made me react? Better one Eminem sticking in my craw than sixty five Ja Rules leaving no taste at all.

I don’t know what I’ll think of Eminem’s next album, but I know I’ll think something, and probably while bobbing my head to an excellent beat.