"'Cos some things just don't change, it's better when they stay the same." Eminem's off the pills, but the opening gambit of Recovery suggests he hasn't noticed. And over the next 70 minutes, Marshall Mathers reassures us that he still hates Mariah, still loves Hayley, still can't live with Kim, and still has a big dick.

But it's a case of the rapper doth protest too much. Despite the brave face, there are real differences on his most insular album yet. His disses — once topical — are so off the mark, it's hard to remember (or even care) who Brooke Hogan and David Cook are. His sense of humour — once prevalent in punchlines and skits — is missing in action. His arrogance is now all apologies. And his admissions of personal weakness are more suited to Oprah than rap.

He's clearly living out the 12-step program on record, which might seem like a bad idea, but the intense, aggressive Recovery is his most relentlessly focused yet. Even as he openly pleads for forgiveness — "I just want to thank everybody for being so patient and for bearing with me over the last couple of years while I figure this sh*t out" — and admits his jealousy of Kanye and Lil' Wayne, the result is the singalong success Talkin' 2 Myself.

Going Through Changes, sampling Black Sabbath's Changes, is even more powerful. Continuing the introspection — drug dependence, suicidal thoughts, too weak to make a difference — the unflinching recollection of an overdose turns into a heartfelt explanation to his daughter.

But it's Not Afraid, which sees him preaching redemption to the masses, that really connects. "I guess I had to go to that place to get to this one. Now some of you might still be in that place, trying to get out, just follow me," he says, launching into one of his most accessible songs yet.

By the time Lil' Wayne himself shows up on No Love — alongside a sample of the long forgotten Haddaway's long-forgotten What Is Love — the self-pity's completely blown away as Emimen shows off his unrivalled technical skill. The message is clear: despite almost pissing everything away, he's still got what it takes.

Still not convinced? With just a little help from Rihanna, a dark, twisted indictment of domestic violence — Love The Way You Lie — has become a global lighter-waving anthem. "I'm Superman with the wind at his back," Eminem declares in one of the verses. And, for the first time in a long time, he's right.