Alas, poor Eminem. Who knew that under the misanthropic and misogynistic exterior of this Motor City street urchin lurked the wounded heart of a mayhem-driven martyr? Forget rhymes. On his sophomore effort, The Marshall Mathers LP, Slim Shady has instead mastered the art of whine.

Eminem's delight in scorning conservative critics no doubt strikes a chord with a post-Columbine generation of youths who've found themselves ignorantly and unfairly demonized for their taste in music, clothing, etc. Several of the opening tracks from Em's new album, such as "Who Knew" and "The Way I Am," bristle with an energy that's easy to cheer: Eminem as the unrepentant bad boy, mooning his detractors with a parental advisory sticker across his rear end. As he calmly explains in "Who Knew" — "Want me to watch my mouth/ How?/ Take my fucking eyeballs out/ And turn them around?"

The problem is, as the album drags on, young Master Mathers wastes his considerable wit and opts to grouse in the guise of a rampaging reactionary. Song after song finds Eminem viciously baiting real and imagined enemies, as if that's all he knows how to do. He hits rock bottom on his homophobic rant "Marshall Mathers" ("New Kids on the Block sucked a lot of dick/ Boy-girl groups make me sick/ And I can't wait until I catch all you faggots in public") and the album's rambling, violence-filled revenge fantasy, "Kim" ("Don't you get it bitch/ No one can hear you/ Now shut the fuck up/ And get what's coming to you".) In the hands of a more capable artist (say, Frank Zappa or Richard Pryor), this vitriol might be taken to such an extreme to make it a subversive farce; in Em's ego-fueled tirade, it's merely sickeningly offensive. Of course, you're not supposed to take Em seriously here, but if either of these songs is supposed to be a joke — well, they're about as funny as kiddie porn.

Beatwise, Dr. Dre apparently saved most of his best tracks for himself, as the bulk of Eminem's songs pop along with a saccharin bounce that, while at times entertaining, is hardly up to par with the smoky funk of Dr. Dre's recent classics like "B. Please" and "The Next Episode." A lone exception on the album is "Stan," a stand out piece of music, thanks to its rich vocal texture and full bottom sound (courtesy Mark the 45 King). In any case, the production is largely secondary. This, after all, is The Marshall Mathers LP, and Eminem rarely lets you forget it.

One of few genuinely interesting moments he offers occurs on "Stan," a song imaginatively written from the perspective of one of Slim Shady's many fans. In detailing Stan's fatalistic obsession with Mr. Mathers, Eminem reveals a part of his own dark, cynical side. It's not a pretty picture, but at least it feels real: "Sometimes I even cut myself/ To see how much it bleeds," he says. "Like adrenaline/ Pain is such a sudden rush for me." Had more of this vulnerability made its way onto the rest of the album, Eminem might have emerged as a bit more dimensionally human, rather than just a pale caricature of a caricature.