Kids need heroes. Yet to find these heroes, there needs to be something that sparks youthful joy and inspiration. For many, music is this catalyst for discovering heroes. Music creates in us a visceral, empathetic, and emotional experience that is truly difficult to express in words. The emotions of life can often be too overwhelming and confusing to articulate, especially when as a kid you haven’t developed the capability to express these emotions. Music comes along and it’s like finding air after being submerged underwater — a piece of art somehow perfectly captures the mood and themes of how you’ve been feeling and for a moment you feel whole again. You come to idolize these artists, for better or worse, for finding a way to save you. Eminem understands this power of music on the outstanding and epic “Sing For The Moment”, from The Eminem Show, as he unravels the emotional, complex, and beautiful relationship between music and the kids who love this art.

“Sing For The Moment” by Eminem

At the time of releasing this song, placed as the centerpoint in 2002’s The Eminem Show, Eminem was a musical juggernaut and global phenomenon. He was quickly becoming the best-selling rapper of all time, with back-to-back critically acclaimed and record-shattering albums — 1999’s The Slim Shady LP and 2000’s The Marshall Mathers LP. He had amassed an insanely huge following worldwide and had gained the overwhelming respect of the hip-hop landscape. Eminem’s music could be hilariously clever, ripe with social commentary, or heart wrenchingly personal — sometimes all three at once. All the while, he possessed an unprecedented and mind-blowing knack for dizzying, multisyllabic, and innovative rhyme patterns. He was no stranger to controversy as his songs, while often tongue-in-cheek, could be disturbing and over-the-top, and he understandably generated worldwide controversy. Yet layered underneath his anger and angst was a man who bared his soul with all his frustrations, traumas, and mental illnesses, all the while pointing out the hypocracises and posturing of American culture. “Sing For The Moment” was his attempt to articulate his polarizing stature and shed light on why his music and the wider art form of hip-hop had connected with millions.

In a 2014 annotation on Genius, Eminem explained his mindset in writing this song.

“This is where I was dealing with critics who didn’t understand why people were identifying with me. I realized I was becoming like the rappers that I looked up to as a kid. I identified with and loved LL Cool J and the Beastie Boys. I felt like if everybody didn’t understand their music, it didn’t matter — they were speaking to me. So that’s what I was trying to make people realize on this track. I may not be s*** to you, but there’s a kid in f***ing Nebraska, or somewhere, that I’m talking to. I don’t care if you’re listening, because he’s listening. That’s who I’m directing my material at.”

The track opens with dark, haunting, and aggressive guitar chords, conjuring an image of a curtain slowly opening, not dissimilar to the eerie and sullen album artwork. These chords, sampled from “Dream On” by Aerosmith, are given enough time to produce a morose atmosphere, as the striking and steady drum beat comes in to add a hip-hop kick. This unique marriage of rock and rap production creates a melancholy and angsty backdrop for Eminem to lay his musings on fame, celebrity, art, and impact.

“These ideas are nightmares to white parents / Whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings / Like whatever they say has no bearing / It’s so scary in a house that allows no swearing / To see him walkin’ around with his headphones blarin’ / Alone in his own zone, cold and he don’t care /… His thoughts are wacked, he’s mad so he’s talkin’ back / Talkin’ black, brainwashed from rock and rap”

Eminem begins the track to comment on the shifting culture of America’s youth. At this time in his career, he was often being blamed for kids’ rebellion from the straight and narrow path. Yet he uses the lyrics here to redirect criticism to the fears of white parents nationwide. He points to the fact these parents were using music as a scapegoat to absolve responsibility of their kids’ troubled behavior, rather than trying to do the harder and more complicated work of figuring out their kids’ root emotional issues. Instead they pointed the finger at rap and rock, with often racially charged undertones. They blamed music while ignoring the fact that these musicians were pushing artistic boundaries and writing beautiful songs about the human condition, social and political issues, and philosophical questions.

This aforementioned mix of rock and rap production becomes more poignant with this verse, as these lyrics call attention to the shared rebellious ethos of the genres that have shaken the world for the last 50 years. Backed with this instrumentation, Eminem’s voice drips with hostility and focus as he paints his complicated relationship with his country. Yet underneath the bitterness, there exists a bedrock of empathy and determination for the troubled youth. As the dense and thought-provoking verse ends, the production soars and crescendos, allowing Eminem and Steven Tyler to passionately belt their love for this art.

“(Come on!) Sing with me (Sing!), sing for the year (Sing it!) / Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear (Come on!) / Sing it with me, it’s just for today / Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away”

The chorus is anthemic and stirring, bolstered by the samples of Steven Tyler’s iconic singing. More than anything, this chorus is a reminder. It reminds the listener of the wide-ranging potential of this art form — its ability to make one cry, smile, laugh, and hope. It reminds the musician that their days are numbered to put their art out into the world. Most importantly, it reminds all of us that the relationship between fan and music is a sacred and complicated bond.

Eminem is well aware of these complexities.

“I guess words are a motherf***er, they can be great / Or they can degrade, or even worse, they can teach hate / It’s like these kids hang on every single statement we make / Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum / Now how the f*** did this metamorphosis happen? / From standin’ on corners and porches just rappin’ / To havin’ a fortune, no more kissin’ a**”

Eminem highlights the two-way impact of words. For Eminem, his words have absolutely transformed his life status from near-homeless to global superstar. Now that he has attained this platform, his words carry a greater deal of weight and responsibility than the average person. The words that he and other artists use can inspire someone to do good or veer them to cause harm, sometimes regardless of intention. Eminem takes this responsibility to heart and knows that his lyrics, while they have understandably upset many, have also given kids a magical sense of hope and peace.

This magic is what keeps him going.

“That’s why we sing for these kids who don’t have a thing / Except for a dream and a f***in’ rap magazine / Who post pin-up pictures on they walls all day long / Idolize they favorite rappers and know all they songs / Or for anyone who’s ever been through s*** in they lives / So they sit and they cry at night, wishin’ they’d die / ’Til they throw on a rap record and they sit and they vibe / We’re nothin’ to you, but we’re the f***in’ s*** in they eyes / That’s why we seize the moment, try to freeze it and own it / Squeeze it and hold it ’cause we consider these minutes golden / And maybe they’ll admit it when we’re gone, just let our spirits / Live on through our lyrics that you hear in our songs, and we can…”

As the chorus plays one more time and the epic and emotionally touching rock outro fades out, I am left breathtaken at my connection with this song on a personal, thematic, and spiritual level. There are only a handful of verses I have heard that hit the nail on the head in regards to the power of music with such poignancy, clarity, and wisdom. For many, these musicians represent inspiration for the kids out there with their own dreams. And for others, this music keeps them feeling like they matter when they are depressed, lonely, and scared. These are the golden moments that the audience and artist share together, and it keeps both of them from giving up. These spiritual moments live longer than the physical bodies that made these moments possible.

In an interview with Genius, filmmaker Jonah Hill recently described his relationship with hip-hop, in reference to its influence on his outstanding debut film Mid 90s.

“A big reason I made [Mid 90s] is because hip-hop is always misused in film. It’s always shown someone driving through the hood or popping champagne. And to me, it’s the emotional backbone of my growing up…[A Tribe Called Quest] is to me what The Beatles were to my parents. And Mobb Deep is to me what The Rolling Stones were to my parents…This is a real art form. This is real art. It’s going down in the catalogue with classical music hundred years from now”

This idea of hip-hop being the emotional backbone to his childhood resonated with me in a way few phrases have. Whenever I struggled with sadness, loneliness, and existential dread growing up, listening to hip-hop always made me feel okay. It helped me know that these artists shared their own stories of struggle, triumph, existential questions, and internal fulfillment. Their music gave me a sense that my life had meaning too, that someone could understand what I was experiencing, and that I should keep moving forward. As I heard the songs that became instrumental in my development, my emotions somehow became validated and interweaved in the fabric of these notes and lyrics.

There have been times where music has felt like my best friend. There have been times where music has felt like my only friend. Music has been there for me for my deepest lows and my greatest highs. Regardless of how healthy or unhealthy that is, it has been and always will be core to who I am.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve grown out of putting these artists on too high of a pedestal, recognizing them as flawed humans like everyone else, albeit capable of making groundbreaking, transcendent, and powerful music. They’re still my heroes, but ones with their own dents, fears, and mistakes.

Part of that realization comes with the mental trip of approaching the ages of when my heroes started pursuing their creative careers. It’s beginning to dawn on me that it’s now my time to pursue my creative passions. I’ve wanted to write about music since I was 13, and seeing it come to fruition has been one of the greatest joys I’ve ever been so lucky to have. I don’t consider myself an inspirational person but if the art I create can connect with someone and deepen their relationship with music, life, or themselves, then I really feel like I’m passing the fire onward. Maybe even one day I’ll be on the other side of that golden moment.

On that day, I'll have my heroes to thank.