Dre’s verses on the battle rap, “Say What You Say”, are average at best. Only extreme loyalty could justify allowing the mediocre efforts of Obie Trice (“Drips”) and every member of D-12 (“When The Music Stops”), save Bizarre, to make the final cut. Perhaps the only major flaw in Eminem’s last two albums was, with the exception of Royce the 5’9, the poor quality of the guest appearances. (Note to Eminem: WE GET IT! You’re dad left, your mother’s evil, Kim’s a slut, and you love Haile. On these tracks, Eminem wastes dynamite self-produced beats by subjecting himself and the audience to four minutes of rehashed personal drama. In place of sincere, fiery tracks like “Marshall Mathers” or “Rock Bottom”, The Eminem Show is filled with unimaginative pieces like “Say Goobye Hollywood” and “Cleanin’ Out My Closet”, which leave the listener with the distinct feeling that s/he has heard the songs before. This album, however, leaves little trace of the inspiration and passion that permeated the previous two LPs. On The Marshall Mathers LP, we saw a more confident and mature Eminem seemingly taking the elevator to legend status with his amazing wit and creativity, superb lyrics, and flawless production. On his first album, The Slim Shady LP, we were introduced to a hungry MC fighting for respect (“I’m tired of other rappers who ain’t bringin’ half the skill as me / Saying they wasn’t feelin’ me or ‘nobody’s as ill as me'”). Unfortunately, Eminem’s third album represents a musical fence-straddling that results in a disappointing combination of promising musical experimentation and uninspired lyrics. If you are Eminem, how do you follow up two critically acclaimed, multi-platinum hip-hop albums? There are two primary schools of thought: stick to the formula and keep pumping out the same material until the public tires of your sound, á la Ja Rule, or, like Outkast and Lauryn Hill, risk it all by experimenting and hope that you are not abandoned by hip-hop’s fickle fan base.