Eminem’s new album, “The Marshall Mathers LP2” is basically the hip-hop version of a classic-rock album, taking us back to his old Slim Shady days. 

Eminem emerged out of 90s Detroit spewing angry, comical, outrageous lyrics and building prodigious rap-rhyme skills that left his competition in a vapor trail. But, later albums revealed an apologetic MC battling addiction and creative inertia. “The Marshall Mathers LP2” revives his raunchy humor and crass swagger while also worshiping wordplay. 

Crunching scatterbrained stories, syllables and punchlines, Eminem takes absurdity to new heights. The best example of this is seen with the Rick-Rubin-produced track “Berzerk.” He plays off of Beastie Boy beats and an adolescent whine reminiscent of the MC’s early years. Rock, rap and chaos, with a touch of 80s nostalgia, makes “Berzerk,” well, worthy of its title. 

“Rap God” sums up the new-old Eminem. The melody is static and subdued to give way to angry, agitated lyrics. “Look, I’ve been a ‘rap god’ since Monica Lewinsky and Columbine made headlines…”—the track piles on the pop culture references. That is if you can catch the lyrics with his machine-gun delivery. 

He sparingly resorts to mysogynistic blows and gay-bashing, the type of borderline punchlines that made him a hip-hop villain you love and hate. He may spew a lot of hate, but I think it’s safe to say he reserves the greatest amount of malice and criticism for himself. 

“Evil Twin” is another testament to how time cannot heal all wounds. A six-minute rant, essentially, the track names Sarah Palin, Jessica Simpson, Jessica Alba, and plenty of other celebrities. 

“So who’s left? Lady Gaga? Messed with the Bieber/ Nah, F with Christina, I ain’t [explective] with either Jessica neither/ Simpson or Alba, my albums just sicker than struck with the fever”

There are countless allusions to the “old days” when Eminem was a screwed up kid from a broken home. Eminem tries to convince us that his “evil twin” is responsible for all his anger and angst—”Evil twin/ Here it comes again/ It controls my pen”—before acknowledging that there will always be a little Slim Shady in him.

The up-and-coming Eminem in 2000 had plenty of enemies—wife, parents, pop stars, boy bands, anyone really. This time around, however, he admits that he’s running out of targets. So, he turns the blade inward. Questioning his relevance, calling his lines “boring” and even mocking the crow’s feet around his eyes, despite his inability to grow up, he transforms into his own biggest target.

One of my favorite tracks, and one of the most surprising in terms of arrangements, “Rhyme Or Reason” plays off of the Zombies’ “Time of Season.” A seamless amalgam of a rock classic alongside Eminem’s singing and rapping makes for a combination that somehow works. 

He rants about his daddy-issues, references Rick Rubin via a comical Yoda impression and declares that “There’s no rhyme of no reason for nothing.” The hook asks “Who’s your daddy,” Em answers, “I don’t have one/ My mother reproduced like a Komodo dragon.”

“Love Game” featuring Kendrick Lamar is another solid track, bringing back Wayne Fontana and the Mindbender’s 60s hit, “Game of Love.” The melody is irresistably retro and catchy. Lamar and Eminem sing about the intricacies of love for a girl who is equally awful and irresistable. He dumped the girl because she was with Kanye, Lil Wayne and a whole roster of rappers, but Eminem and Lamar can’t seem to let her go.

Yes, most of the album hew to the stark beats and crass lyrics reminiscent of his early years. But, the tracks that lean on classic rock anthems and flip unexpected retro hooks are the most entertaining by far. 

Eminem has always been a mess, and he’ll probably always give us his fair share of rants—wrinkles, retirement, dentures—for as long as he’s still rapping. The MC already hit 40, but from what I can tell, he’s far from retirement.