As challenging as it may be for many to stomach the constant and incredibly explicit sex, violence, and drug references, there is a stunning album lurking beneath that deserves recognition.

Once again the rhyming is painfully funny, the delivery fresh, and the music catchy.

It's very difficult to see the tough-talking Devils Night as anything other than a slightly tweaked re-run of The Marshall Mathers LP. [#180, p.100]

When they go for the chill of classic Eminem cuts like "Kim," they come up short.

Devils Night's high points are some of the most accomplished hip-hop we'll hear this year. But the balance between humor, shock, raw talent and psychosis that Eminem achieved on his last two albums is off.

But what was fresh and provocative at the time of Eminem's debut has grown somewhat stale; at this point, hismisanthropy feels as predictable as Gallagher smashing watermelons.

Devils Night is nothing special, and it's only saved from the slush pile by Eminem's inventive, cutting-edge raps and Dr. Dre's so-funky-it's-evil production.

These ill jockeys are just a two-inch ruler for Marshall Mathers to measure his dick against.

At least Eminem's voice and rhyming skills remain among the most arresting in current pop. The same can't be said of the other members of D12, who are proficient and barely distinctive.

This sub-par group's darker efforts to push society's hot buttons and dis others are ultimately more silly than sinister.

Ultimately, D12 have made the fatal mistake of reducing themselves to the pitch that probably won them their deal: "think horrorcore rap, Gravediggaz-style, mixed up with middle-everything baiting lyrics even more extreme than Eminem." And that's not enough.