Eminem’s rise from the rubble is well known. A shy white boy from East Detroit, Eminem was trailer park trash raised by a single mother who was often too high to mother. He regularly changed schools, repeated the ninth grade three times and was constantly bullied. By retreating inward — he read the dictionary and riffed rhymes at the floor — Marshal Mathers (M&M) found his way around ridicule and attack.

Like most rappers, words were Eminem’s weapon and escape. Unlike most rappers, however, Eminem is white. He stands out like a sore thumb. The lyrics that express his deep sense of isolation and vulnerability otherwise absent from rap are twice born — first, he uses rap to talk about growing up “white trash, broke and always poor” and second, he is a white dude in a nearly all black art form, and he believes he is isolated, rejected and often singled out because of the color of his skin.

Eminem does boast but what he brags about having, and having in spades, is unbeatable talent. His linguistic prowess is undeniable, but what separates him is not really his skill — I am not here to say who the best rapper is, though most claim the title — it is what he uses his skill to express: anxiety, timidity, envy and rage. When Eminem digresses on the many shades of depression, he extends rap’s emotional range beyond its hyper-macho comfort zone.

On the debut album 8 Mile, in “Lose Yourself,” Eminem says he cannot:

Stay in one spot, another day of monotony

Has gotten to me, to the point I’m like a snail I’ve got

To formulate a plot, or end up in jail or shot

Success is my only motherfuckin’option, failure’s not

Mom I love you, but this trailer’s got to go

I cannot grow old in Salem’s Lot

So here I go it’s my shot, feet fail me not

This may be the only opportunity that I got

The . . .

Read more: White Rage: Eminem, the Bad Boy from Detroit