Infinite is the real first album from Eminem, from the days before he made it big. This was made before the rapper hooked up with Dr. Dre, and production is very simple and in places distinctly old school. Released by Web Entertainment, they hoped that his local reputation would be enough to carry sales of the album - sadly, it was not. However, Eminem picked himself up after its release, and continued to win MC contests and improve his rap skills.

Listening to the album, it is clear that Eminem remains proud of some of his finer lyrical moments from those days. So much so, many lines are reused in his more widely-known albums. This may seem cheap, but I see it more as a way for him to bring the highlights of his early work to a wider audience. For example, the line, "I never gave a fuck, now I give a fuck less," is familiar from The Marshall Mathers LP.

The track listing is as follows:

1. Infinite
2. W.E.G.O. (Interlude)
3. It's OK
4. 313
5. Tonight
6. Maxine
7. Open Mic
8. Never 2 Far
9. Searchin'
10. Backstabber
11. Jealousy Woes II

This is brief for a rap album, typical of an artist just learning the tricks of turning sublime MC skills into high-quality vinyl. It is suprisingly difficult to get hold of those tricks via Morpheus et al, which is disappointing because the album has some very fine moments.

The album includes a self-titled track, the lyrics of which are provided below:

Oh yeah,
This is Eminem baby,
Back up in that motherfucking ass,
One time for your motherfucking mind,
We represent the 313.
You know what I'm saying?
'Cause they don't know shit about this.
For the 9-6

Ayo, my pen and paper cause a chain reaction
To get your brain relaxin',
A zany actin' maniac in action,
A brainiac in fact son,
You mainly lack attraction.
You look insanely wack when
Just a fraction of my tracks run.
My rhyming skills got you climbing hills,
I travel through your mind,
Into your spine,
Like siren drills.
I'm sliming grills of roaches, with spray that disinfects
And twisting necks of rappers 'til their spinal column disconnects.
Put this in decks and check the monologue,
Turn your system up,
Twist 'em up, and indulge in the marijuana smog.
This is the season for noise pollution contamination.
Examination of more cartoons than animation
My lamination of narration
Hits the snare and bass in a track for duck rapper interrogation.
When I declare invasion,
There ain't no time to be staring, gazing
I turn the stage into a barren wasteland...
I'm Infinite

You heard of Hell?
Well I was sent from it,
I went to it servin' a sentence for murdering instruments.
Now I'm trying to repent from it,
But when I hear the beat I'm tempted to make another attempt at it...
I'm Infinite


Bust it, I let the beat commence
So I can beat the sense
In your elite defense.
I got some meat to mince,
A crew to stomp,
And then two feet to rinse.
I greet the gents and ladies,
I spoil loyal fans,
I foil plans,
And leave fluids leaking like oil bands.
My coiled hands around this microphone are lethal
One thought in my cerebral is deeper
Than a Jeep full of people.
MCs are feeble, I came to cause some pandemonium.
Battle a band of phony MCs
And stand a lonely one.
Imitator, Intimidator, Stimulator, Simulator of data, Eliminator.
There's never been a greater since the burial of Jesus,
Fuck around and catch all the venereal diseases.
My thesis will smash a stereo to pieces.
My a cappella releases,
Classic masterpieces
Through telekinesis.
That eases you mentally,
With entity,
meant to be Infinite.


Man, I got evidence
I'm never dense
And I been clever ever since
My residence was hesitant
To do some shit that represents the M-O.
So I'm assuming all responsibility
Cause there's a monster will in me,
That always wants to kill MCs.
Mic nestler, slamming like a wrestler.
Here to make a mess of a lyric smuggling embezzler.
No one is specialer,
My skill is intergalactical.
I get cynical, act a fool,
Then I send a crew back to school.
I never packed a tool or acted cool,
It wasn't practical.
I'd rather lead a tactical, tactful track,
Tickle your fancy.
In fact I can't see, or can't imagine,
A man who ain't a lover of beats or a fan of scratching.
So this is for my family, the kid who had a cammy on my last jam.
Plus the man who never had a Plan B,
Be all you can be,
Cause once you make an instant hit,
I'm tensed a bit and tempted when I see the sins my friends commit...
I'm Infinite

Chorus x2