A polished, lumbering beast of an album. Not so much concerned with peaks and troughs as with a steady, charismatic drone of all things Compton.
Let's face it, Halloween playlists can be awful. Here lies an alternative lineup of frightening songs. More treats than tricks, we promise.
The Marshall Mathers LP is Eminem’s finest accomplishment, but it’s too maniacal to be a masterpiece. It succeeds mostly as a surreal expansion of his debut.
It has its lulls, but when Straight Outta Compton blows hot it feels unstoppable. N.W.A. modelled a spirit of expression impossible to ignore.
The album is enthralling in the same way a vampire's glamouring might be: warm, cold, hypnotic, enticing, and foreboding as all Hell.
Never does the record come off as grandiose or self-important; it’s just that good, and it’s just that much fun. Not a masterpiece, but a master at work.