I went for eight solid years, nonstop, doing what Fif is doing right now. It’s all trains, planes, automobiles, and the pressure of trying to perform in front of all these people and not miss a word, not fuck up. People are counting on you; they bought tickets to see you. All that pressure, plus the pressure I felt at home. I just felt like, Man, I gotta fall back.
Even when they’re quiet, they’re loud—Eminem and 50 Cent are building the two most powerful empires in hip hop. Jon Caramanica talks to the dynamic duo about brotherhood, Dr. Dre, turmoil in the record industry, and bonds that go way beyond music.
If you didn’t know them, know their faces, know intimate details of their lives already, you might look at them from a distance and think, Nah, couldn’t be. What could the beefy black kid with the ruthless streak and the scrawny white kid who seems to be sinking into himself have in common? What are they doing together?
And sure, just five years ago, before Marshall “Eminem” Mathers, 34, of Detroit, Mich., reached out to Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson III, 31, of Queens, N.Y., and offered him a record deal, the two were strangers, familiar to each other only through their recordings. But now they’re thick as thieves—colleagues who collectively embody hip hop’s still radical social potential to cross lines of race and class, but also close friends. 50 attended Em’s second wedding; at birthdays and Christmas Eminem gives 50 original drawings.
Each relies on the other for counsel—both personal and professional. They’re both fathers with young children (50’s son Marquise is 10, as is Em’s daughter, Hailie; Em is also guardian of his niece Alaina, 13). Both men run mini-empires dependent upon their place atop popular music’s food chain.
50 Cent and Eminem have sold an astounding 36 million solo albums between them since 1999, not counting albums they’ve contributed to as Mcs, producers, and label owners. But these are uncertain times for the record industry. Whereas album sales have heretofore been the primary marker of success, in the virtual age it’s become difficult to accurately track true popularity, meaning that artists have to work harder, and smarter, to stay on top.
50’s responded, in the tradition of artist-moguls like Sean “Diddy” Combs and Shawn “Jay-z” Carter, by diversifying his empire. In addition to G Unit Records, which is home to artists like Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo, Young Buck, and the rookie Young Hot Rod, sales of G Unit Clothing have topped $200 million over the last four years, and he owns a stake in the Glaceau vitaminwater company. 50’s moved into acting also. Aside from appearing as a struggling rapper in 2005’s Get Rich or Die Tryin’ (Paramount), 50 makes a memorable turn as an Iraq war veteran alongside Samuel L. Jackson, in this month’s Home of the Brave (MGM) and is set to appear with Nicolas Cage in The Dance, a dramatization of the life of boxer-turned-prison coach Billy Roth.
Em has been having a rougher go of it. His 2005 greatest hits collection, Curtain Call: The Hits, sold over 1 million units, but he hasn’t released an album of new material since late 2004. And it’s been a difficult couple of years personally.
In August 2005, he was treated for a dependency on sleep medication. In April Eminem filed for divorce, again, from Kimberly Scott, his on-again-off-again partner since his days at Detroit-area Lincoln High School and the subject of many of his angriest songs. In October Eminem was investigated and cleared by the Macomb County Sheriff’s Office for an incident of alleged domestic violence against his niece.
50 ain’t afraid to move around; he’s comfortable going everywhere. Me, I became this stay-at-home type who likes to be in my own environment, close to my kids, and close to where I produce the music.
Add to that the still murky murder, on April 11, 2006, of Eminem’s best friend, rapper DeShaun “Proof” Holton of group D12. At the CCC club, an after-hours spot on Detroit’s 8 Mile Road, Proof suffered a fatal gunshot wound to the head after allegedly fatally shooting Keith Bender Jr. and bouncer Mario Etheridge, 28, who is said by Wayne County prosecutors to have shot and killed Proof in self-defense, was convicted on weapons charge in September. Proof had long been a major part of Eminem’s support system—a diamond and platinum P stays draped around Em’s neck even now.
But almost six months after
Proof’s death, Em is on the road to recovery. His label, Shady Records,
is releasing its first label compilation this month, Eminem Presents:
The Re-up, which features 50, Lloyd Banks, Young Buck, Obie Trice and a
host of Shady up-and-comers.
At the buzzing suburban Detroit soundstage where the video for “You don’t Know,” the album’s first single, is being shot, Eminem and 50 are every bit the dynamic duo. There’s a knowing symbiosis between them—50’s a rock, arresting in his calm, while Em is alternately hyperactive and retiring, content to have someone with whom to share the spotlight. Still, he’s positively energized sitting next to 50 while taking a break from the video shoot to speak with VIBE.
And
even though the scene around them is chaotic—over a hundred people
working together for one four-minute-clip—Em and 50 seem unhurried. The
conversation is relaxed, respectful, and sincere, revealing a
shockingly rare example of true friendship, Hip hop, as a genre, often
seems powered by friction and beef—it’s almost transgressive to see two
such successful and idiosyncratic MCs getting along so well.
VIBE: In recent years the two of you have taken
different approaches to being in the public eye. Em, you retreated
somewhat, and 50, you always seem more than happy there.
Eminem:I went for eight solid years, nonstop, doing what Fif is doing right now. It’s all trains, planes, automobiles, and the pressure of trying to perform in front of all these people and not miss a word, not fuck up.
People are
counting on you; they bought tickets to see you. All that pressure,
plus the pressure I felt at home. I just felt like, Man, I gotta fall
back. But if I didn’t have a guy like 50 to fall back on, to be out
there like that—
50 Cent: In his space it’s a whole
other thing. It’s hard for you to feel the ground. My celebrity is big.
I go anywhere, and people recognize me, but some places we go, they’re
going to stop doing whatever they’re doing and run behind Em.
Em: Fif takes to the attention a little
differently. He can soak it up. I tend to crawl into this shell when it
gets to be too much.
50: At the same time, when he goes into the shell,
that’s building more energy around you. The less common you appear, the
bigger your celebrity… I think people forget that I actually work for
him. I’m signed to Shady/Aftermath. I work for Eminem and Dr. Dre. I
gotta get out and do the footwork, stay physically available, and with
quality material.
Was retreating a hard decision to make? At this
point not only do you have the Eminem industry—the records, the
touring—but you also have the label, the clothing line…
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