This is my first attempt at putting together an article in the series “Discography Trippin’,” so bear with me if I make a few stumbles.  As I was going through my Favorite Albums of the 90’s, it dawned on me that, when discussing different albums by the same band, I tend to define them as they relate to previous or subsequent albums.  This may not be the hallmark of an objective opinion, but let’s be honest, listening to music doesn’t happen in a vacuum.  How can I not look at the artist as a whole?

Listeners often get themselves up in arms with cries of, “listen to it for what it is!” but that just isn’t realistic.  It is only when we fault an album for not being identical that our opinion loses its value.  Pointing out how an artist has evolved (or more correctly, changed) over time is a natural part of understanding an artist and their work.  And while we can separate “the man” from “the music,” it’s also necessary to realize (and indeed, accept) that “the man” was the one who created “the music” and that the two entities will always be inexorably entwined, even when it is appropriate to distinguish the artist from his art.

So without further interruption, let’s get this first installment underway.

In late middle school and moving into highschool, I had 4 “favorite” bands:  Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson were at the top (though they would occasionally edge each other out for the top spot for short periods), followed by Korn (which, at first, I probably listened to the most), and then Nirvana (which I spent a couple of years saying  I liked more than I actually did).  Why 4?  Why these 4?  Who knows.  Some of it was my need to be different, shocking, controversial.  Some of it was a genuine interest in the music, though realistically, I have to wonder how much I’d heard at the time.

There’s an interesting psychological study somewhere in here.  Were these my “favorites” because I suddenly liked them more than anyone else?  Or did they become my favorites after I decided they were my favorites?  At some point I had to back up my claim and actually buy and listen to these bands, but it was more than that.  Even if I did start out having “4 favorite bands” before I knew as much as I should’ve about them, I wasn’t intentionally faking it; I had every intention of liking these bands.  And so, I identified myself with these artists, and I listened to them, and a funny thing happened – I made them my favorites.

It’s for these reasons that I want to first take a trip though the discography of Marilyn Manson.  I know, it’s easy to see his/their antics as immature, disgusting, outdated, even a bit histrionic, but the truth is that at least some of the band’s music had a great impact on me at some time, and I can still enjoy a great deal of the music today when I’m in the right mood.  The trick – whether your love or hate him – is to not take the man, the band, the image, the message, or the music too seriously.  First and foremost, Marilyn Manson has always been an act, and that act has always been part of the art.

Spooky Kids Era (1989 – 1993)

There aren’t many bands I’ve dug into as deeply as Marilyn Manson, and I don’t intend on hunting down demos for each and every artist I “trip” through, but since I do have such a firm grasp on the band’s early demo material, I feel like it at least deserves a mention here.

The back catalog of Manson demos is extensive and somewhat confusing.  For the most part, we can divide these recordings based on the original demo tapes they appeared on, of which there are 10.  Perhaps even more confusing is that the same songs floated around these tapes, sometimes in different form, and sometimes not.  Wilder still, there’s an even older demo tape shrouded in mystery.  Another dollop of misinformation comes in the form of an early side project known as Satan On Fire and a few recordings produced that are often mislabeled as Marilyn Manson.  And yet even worse, there are a number of certified fakes which people still desperately cling to as official recordings.  The various bootleggers and compilers out there don’t help either; they throw whatever tracks they feel like together on a CD (including Satan On Fire tracks and occasionally fakes) with no attempt to establish which version they are or what demo tape they came from.

Many of the original demo tapes have been verified over the years so there is a certain degree of concrete knowledge concerning a large portion of demo material.  Somewhat recently (in the last 5 years or so), former guitarist Scott Putesky (better known as Daisy Berkowitz) has spoken about fakes, unreleased material, and live rarities, often with recordings and/or artwork to back up his claims.  This has really helped a lot of us archivists keep track of what was released when, which version it was, what can totally be discounted, and what we still need to track down.

Why I am bothering with this history lesson?  Mainly I want to illustrate how erratic this time period is to catalog and judge, and I want to emphasize that it is not one big burst of creative output.  A great deal of what has been collected over the years was probably never meant to be heard, so trying to attach artistic value to it can be troublesome.

In large part, these demos sway between quirky, nightmarish alt rock, and grinding rockers with ties to hardcore punk.  Although I’ve listened through these demos many, many times over the years, it’s difficult to look past the low quality of the recordings.  There are a number of songs that I think could be great if re-recorded in ideal conditions.  “White Knuckles” is probably my favorite demo piece.  I’m also partial to “Devil in My Lunchbox,” though it’s technically a product of the Satan On Fire project.  Strangely, there are 3 songs which appear in a set of songs known as the “Portrait Rehearsals” (the band’s first album) that appear nowhere else – neither in any form on Portrait or on any of the preceding demo tapes.  Two of these, “Magic 8 Ball” and “Scaredy Cat,” are also strong candidates for a proper recording.

As a whole, these demos aren’t easy to listen to.  Most of the time, we can glean satisfaction from demo recordings by comparing them to existing songs that we already know and love.  In the case most of Manson’s demos, they never went on to exist in any other form, and as such, remain grainy, noisy, distorted visions of music.  Even the ones that would go on to become “real songs” (“Cake and Sodomy” and “Dope Hat” being the most prominent) can be difficult to appreciate.

Portrait of an American Family (1994)

Here’s where the fun really starts.  Portrait builds on the scary yet child-like themes from the demos, but the band’s punk roots are still very obvious.  Sludgy, thick, fat bass lines give this music a sleazy feeling, while the samples and unique rhythms sound like children’s songs that aren’t for children, or maybe a version of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory where all the candy has been replaced with drugs.  I’ll admit that this music takes some getting used to, but it’s also some of the most enduring music that the band put out.

I’ve listened to this album literally hundreds of times, and I’m still surprised at what a kick it has and how much I still enjoy it.  It’s a fairly heavy record, and the beginnings of the industrial metal style that the band would later adopt are already present.  Guitars grind, churn, and chug in nearly every track with ample levels of distortion.  Manson refines his vocal technique from the demo days, though he still utilizes a sort of chant-shout method that owes itself to punk and hardcore.

Musically, the band was a little immature at this point.  Don’t get me wrong, the music works, but it has yet to balance out its choppy rhythmic structure with almost non-existent melodies.  The guys developed some amazingly effective choruses while struggling a bit with their verses.  I would really like it if the band had stayed in this direction for at least one more album.  Lyrically however, Manson was in top form.  Going back over their work, I am convinced that Portrait is where the act and the message actually came together in a meaningful and relevant way.  Most of the album is social satire.  It’s funny, offensive, scathing, and represents an insightful look into popular entertainment, pop culture in general, social stratification, materialism, hypocrisy, violence, and individualism.  “Cake and Sodomy” is one of the best songs the band ever wrote in this regard, with “Snake Eyes & Sissies” not far behind.

I had trouble digesting this album at first, but somewhere along the way it really grew on me.  Part of the reason why it takes some effort to get into is because it really doesn’t sound like anything else out there.  This weird brand of fringe industrial rock is a unique in both approach and delivery, and I doubt it’ll ever be replicated.

Smells Like Children (1995)

There is some debate as to just where this fits into the Manson catalog.  Although it has 15 tracks (16 counting the hidden one), much of it consists of filler – samples and other audio experiments.  The remaining “real songs” are either remixes or reprises of songs from Portrait, and then the 3 gems are covers.  Generally speaking, this would be an EP since the new material is minimum.  It certainly doesn’t qualify as an album due to lack of original content, but it does occupy a certain sacred space with Manson’s fanbase.

It’s worth noting that this was the record that propelled the band to stardom due to the inclusion of “Sweet Dreams.”  Smells Like Children began as the single for “Dope Hat” from the previous album.  Instead, “Dope Hat” was released as a promotional single, and the track list for the commercial single turned into what we have today.  About half of the album is garbled and random studio wizardry with no discernible purpose.  However, the other  half is wonderfully entertaining, though it is a difficult place for a new fan to start.

Beginning with the idea of a “Dope Hat” single, we get first a remix, “Dance of the Dope Hats (Remix),” a dancey, electro-industrial influenced interpretation of the song.  I think it’s a great piece that breathes a whole new frenetic sort of life into the originally hypnotic piece.  Next is an entire re-recording and reworking of the song, “Diary of a Dope Fiend.”  This may just be the most amazing piece on Children.  The guys recorded a darker, slower, supremely sinister version of the track.  It’s dripping with malevolence, substance abuse, and self-destruction, it revels in its own madness, and it sounds purely evil.

Additionally, we’re given a remix of “Organ Grinder” (also from Portrait), done again in the electro-industrial style of “Dance of the Dope Hats,” as well as a remix of “Cake and Sodomy,” and an entire reworking of “Cake and Sodomy” called “White Trash” sung by bus driver Tony F. Wiggins.

The three covers are excellent cuts as well and do a great job illustrating how adaptive and original the band was back then.  Rarely do artists make songs their own in the way that these guys did back then, and along with the obvious “Sweet Dreams,” I would certainly rank “Rock N Roll Nigger” and “I Put a Spell on You” among the band’s 15 or so greatest songs.

Smells Like Children may not have been a cohesive artistic statement, though it does show an interesting transition between the music of Portrait and the following album, Antichrist Superstar.  At this point we’re seeing the last punk remnants shed off, with producers like Reznor and Ogilvie really exerting their industrial influence over the music.  Besides just a smattering of samples, we begin to see electronic elements take a bigger role in the band’s sound.  I’m not convinced that they really knew what the hell they were doing on Children, but they had enough energy to make it work.

Antichrist Superstar (1996)

And then in 1996, we finally saw the version of Manson emerge that would go on to haunt parents, teachers, and church officials everywhere.  Although the band would hit their commercial peak a couple of years later with Mechanical Animals, I still regard Antichrist as their magnum opus.  The music itself isn’t nearly as offensive as detractors like to think; in fact, a lot of it is very cryptic and symbolic.  However, it is aggressive, loud, heavy, and at times otherworldly.  Combined with the band’s shocking stage presence, it was too damn much for some people to handle.

Antics aside, this album was where it was at.  In many ways, it was the complete coalescence of all that had come before it.  Manson had perfected their anti-establishment stance and figured out new and creative ways to push the buttons of the general populace.  Musically, Reznor came back to produce and Twiggy joined in the writing process.  Though Berkowitz left before the album was released, he was responsible for much of the music as well.  This perfect storm produced one of the best industrial rock/metal albums ever.

It would seem that the band had finally gotten their fill of demonizing child-like tropes.  They let go of any shred of innocence for this release, and it shows.  Admittedly it can come off as a bit pretentious, though I can neither ignore nor deny the energy that went into these 16 tracks.  The guitars are loud and harsh.  The music itself is coated in filth and decay, like a rusty machine springing to life and imbued with the hatred of mankind.  It lashes out at “normalcy” in every direction, indiscriminately.  The industrial factor is kicked into high gear with booming percussion and there’s a cold, detached feeling created throughout the work.  Even so, it’s very much alive, thrashing about, seemingly random, but with an ultimate purpose in mind.

I’m resisting the urge to launch into a dissection of each track.  They all exist as discrete and memorable entities in my mind.  Manson would go on to bill Antichrist as a concept album, about a lowly “worm” who transformed himself into a rock star bent on revolution, and then tore it all down out of disgust and contempt for the masses that refuse to help themselves.  I suppose you can extrapolate all of this from the album if you want, but the songs are more than able to hold their own.  Calling it a “concept album” tends to diminish the individual merits of each track, and I prefer to emphasize how amazing these tracks are.

Listing favorites is tough.  I love the empty, machine-like quality of “Kinderfeld,” the nigh experimental “Cryptorchid,” and the bitter yet empowered “The Reflecting God”….but my number one pick is the buzzsaw riff of “Angel with the Scabbed Wings” and Manson’s frantic, shrieking chorus, ostensibly about an angel who isn’t interested in living by God’s rules.  Most songs are similarly symbolic, apart from perhaps the extremely straightforward and nihilist anthem “1996.”  Lyrics like “I’m anti gay and anti dope, I am the faggot anti pope!” push the album into lands unknown.

For whatever reason, it would seem that Manson got his fill of the dark, and although they would retain some basic industrial metal fundamentals, their sound would take a totally different turn when they emerged two years later…

Mechanical Animals (1998)

By 1998, I was firmly entrenched in Manson fandom, and I was at the ready for the release of Mechanical Animals.  I caught “The Dope Show”‘s first airing on MTV and at 13 I had my parents drive me out to a record store to pick up the album on the day of release.

I must say that I didn’t immediately take to Animals.  “The Dope Show” was catchy enough and the album was reasonably accessible, but it wasn’t what I’d come to expect from Manson; it certainly wasn’t Antichrist Superstar, and it didn’t even hearken back to Children or Portrait.  It took me a few weeks to say it out loud, but finally I had to ask myself, “what is this!!??”

To put it concisely, Manson was interested in and decided to emulate David Bowie, particularly his Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars era – hence Manson’s own “alternate band,” Omēga and the Mechanical Animals.  (That’s “oh-MEE-guh” by the way, not “oh-MAY-guh.” (Yes, I’m just as confused as you are.))  There’s an even more complex mythology behind this album’s conceptual nature, and I’ve never really bought into it too much.  Musically, the band retained some of those fuzzy guitar riffs and bombastic drums, but they then fused it with glam rock conventions to make for a much more upbeat and commercially viable record.  It’s not exactly happy or poppy, but it definitely adheres more towards the standard of what people “want to hear” than earlier work.

I’m not one of those people who gets mad at a band for becoming popular (though maybe I used to be!), so it wasn’t Manson’s success that bothered me – it was the drastic shift in tone.  Over time, I actually did begin to enjoy this album on its own strengths, though it never really fit in with the Manson that I wanted to hear.  There are some really catchy riffs in songs like “New Model No. 15” and “User Friendly,” and there are also some decent melodies woven into tracks like “Great Big White World” and “Speed of Pain.”  The album’s weakness is that it’s too same-y sounding and repetitive.  Choruses are repeated ad infinitum, verses are shorter, and there are few deviations in song structure or overall sound throughout the record.  Most songs could stand a minute (or more) chopped off of them, and it would’ve also done well to switch up the blase rock format that pervades Animals.  

Rock critics will (likely) overwhelmingly suggest that Animals is the band’s best work, using words like “mature,” “focused,” and “refined,” and though I agree with the sentiments to an extent, it’s lacking the fire, the passion, the ferocity of Antichrist.  It feels sterile, artificial, plasticine….and I suppose that’s the point…it just never quite clicked with me.

The Last Tour on Earth (1999)

Alright, The Last Tour on Earth isn’t a proper full-length album, but it was a big(ish) part of my Manson listening experience while I held out for Holy Wood and tried to accept the style embraced on Animals.  Normally I don’t care much about checking out live albums, even from artists I really like.  However, part of the appeal of Manson, especially at this point in their career, were the on-stage theatrics, which were a sight to behold in and of themselves.  I actually have a VHS of the Dead to the World tour footage, and I watched it over and over in awe of the props, the energy, the madness, the ultimate expression of this music that I could not get enough of.

Well ok, to be fair, I wasn’t going to get the visual experience of a concert on The Last Tour on Earth, but I could at least capture a snippet of that energy from time to time.  I won’t spend much time on this release, I just wanted to give it a nod for being a worthwhile live album.  It’s got a pretty solid collection of material from the band’s material thus far, as well as a bona fide studio outtake from the Antichrist Superstar recording sessions tacked onto the end, “Astonishing Panorama of the Endtimes.”

Also included of note is a bonus CD with special editions (which I had pre-ordered and shipped to me the day of release) that acts almost as a single for “Coma White” off of Animals.  More interesting than “Coma White” are the two covers, “Get My Rocks Off” and “A Rose and a Baby Ruth.”

Holy Wood (In the Shadow of the Valley of Death) (2000)

After the glammed up era of Animals, Manson and Co. reinvented themselves again with 2000’s Holy Wood.  On their 4th major record, they once again receded into the shadows.  Holy Wood centers on America’s fascination with violence and guns, ruminates on the tragic events of 1999 at Columbine, and expresses Manson’s own fascination with JFK.

Lyrically, I find this album difficult to grasp at best and verging on uninteresting at worst.  This is supposed to act as yet another concept album, maybe Manson’s most fully formed, as it follows a character named Adam.  Adam ventures out of a world of outcasts (“Death Valley”) into a sort of lurid amusement park that the world has become (“Holy Wood”), where sex and violence are quintessential to entertainment.  It ain’t that different than the “stories” wrapped up in Antichrist and Animals if you ask me, but Holy Wood is supposed to represent the completion of what Manson calls the “Triptych.”

The Triptych refers to a suite of 3 albums – Antichrist Superstar, Mechanical Animals, and Holy Wood – and one contiguous story that holds them altogether.   The story’s chronology follows the reverse chronology of the releases, starting with Holy Wood and ending with Antichrist.  However, as much as I was into Manson and as much as I tried to understand his work, I never could put together a competent story.  It’s worth mentioning that before Holy Wood, Manson himself stated that Mechanical Animals represented a continuation of the story told in Antichrist Superstar.  I question whether Manson ever really had a clear idea of what he was trying to say.  Around the time of Holy Wood’s release, fans were promised both a film and a movie to accompany the album, both of which would elaborate on “Adam’s story.”  Fifteen years later, neither of these have come to fruition.

If we ignore all the pretentious bullshit (which I soon did), we have an intriguing but uneven release.  Holy Wood eschews the typical rock format and doesn’t rest as heavily on the crunchy guitar as previous albums.  It’s still a guitar driven record, but there are electronic elements at play, more than ever before actually.  It would seem that Manson was more interested in creating textures and atmospheres (at least on the record’s best tracks) instead of hateful, venomous war cries.

Melodies aren’t nearly as grandiose and catchy as those on Animals.  This time around, they’re spooky and subdued. Some songs try to recapture the darkness and heaviness of Antichrist, such as “Burning Flag,” “The Love Song,” and “Disposable Teens,” but for me, it feels like a backslide.  The structures are cringingly simplistic, and repetition is again a problem.  It’s hard to stay vested when parts of the song are simply looped over and over again.  Sometimes it feels like the material for one song is divided and padded out to create two.  The tired hard rock formula seems out of character for the band, and unfortunately it spoils what are some pretty good moments by not providing an engaging context.

If I dissect this album into bits and pieces and snippets, I can point out several great moments.  Nearly every song has some decent highs, especially as I listen to it without the influence of Antichrist lingering prominently in my memory.  The truth is, I think the music, composition, and concept behind Holy Wood is stronger than that of Animals, but a few things were working against the band at that point, not the least of which was waning public interest.  I just wish it hadn’t felt so phoned in; I wish we could’ve gotten a more organic recording experience captured on tape.  It’s too polished, and as such, it sounds like a sort of “manufactured rawness.”

There are some great moments here – the eerie “Cruci-Fiction in Space” and “A Place in the Dirt” are a little unsettling, and the drum machine fueled “The Death Song,” “The Fight Song,” and “Burning Flag” manage to conjure up a more diverse brand of the industrial metal and rock that they adopted for Antichrist Superstar.  And “King Kill 33°” blows me away every time.  But there are also a few tracks that I have a take-it-or-leave-it attitude towards, including “‘President Dead’,” “Target Audience,” and “In the Shadow of the Valley of Death.”  I guess that’s what I mean by Holy Wood being uneven.  There are flashes of past and future brilliance, it just never comes together in a way that makes a brilliant album.  On a deeper level, Holy Wood’s greatest failure is its lack of fun.  Manson reached the pinnacle of taking himself too seriously at this point, and it shows.

Thank god the boys got over their glam kick.

The Golden Age of Grotesque (2003)

Three years later, I had left Manson behind.  Or at least I wasn’t actively following any of the band’s developments.  There are a lot of reasons why, but only one that really matters; I was simply losing interest in what he had to say, and perhaps more importantly, the music was becoming too morose, conceptual, and quasi-cerebral for its own good.  I did eventually pick this album up, and I was even lucky enough to snag one of the limited edition copies with an accompanying DVD of Manson’s short film, Doppelhertz.  I think I watched it once.  I just wasn’t into the performance anymore, or at the very least, the music needed to really speak to me for me to want to dig so deep.

On Golden Age, the focus shifted once again, and became almost a pastiche of elements from the Antichrist and Holy Wood eras.  Despite the flaws, it was at least apparent that Manson was having a little more fun again.  This time around, the guys adopted a Weimar Republic theme – essentially the period in Germany leading up to World War II.  Additionally, elements of vaudeville and burlesque were brought in, and Manson himself developed a certain fascination with Mickey Mouse.  I don’t really pretend to understand the imagery and the concept here, though yet again we have a story about rebellion and the transformation of art into product.  Mechanical Animals was based on a similar theme, and threads of it run through Antichrist Superstar as well.

I can’t comment as much on the culture and concept that ran through Golden Age as much as I can on prior albums, mostly because I just wasn’t paying that much attention in 2003.  I did, however, give the music a fair shake, and though I wouldn’t rank it as a “Manson classic,” I was pleasantly surprised at the direction the band had taken.  Due to significant line-up changes, we saw a whole different side of Marilyn Manson.  First of all, long time bassist Twiggy departed, who had maintained a very active and prominent role in composition since the departure of Berkowitz.  Guitarist John 5 filled the void, with writing credits on 13 of the 15 tracks, more than Manson himself.

But the most important new addition to the group was former KMFDM bassist Tim Skold.  Skold also provided KMFDM with a degree of studio wizardry, and as a result, Golden Age became a very production-heavy album.  Not surprisingly, it drew many comparisons to Angst and Nihil-era KMFDM, when the band was arguably at the peak of their industrial metal days.  Golden Age is a little more rock than metal, and a little lighter on pure industrial than KMFDM, though it does a reasonable job of capturing that crunchy, steely, and mechanical sound.

Musically, Golden Age is probably as close as we’ll ever get to “Antichrist Superstar II.”  And that’s a good thing and a bad thing.  Skold’s production perfects all the fuzz and distortion and creates a sound out of anti-sound.  This is markedly different than what Reznor did with Antichrist back in the day.  Reznor didn’t try to perfect the imperfections.  He made these flaws work to his advantage, and he created a broken, fractured sounding body of music that worked in spite of its lack of (or seemingly lack of) polish.  Reznor was exceedingly clever in this regard and had the uncanny ability to deliberately create that which sounded glitchy and random.  Golden Age is, overall, a decent slab of industrial metal/rock, but with Skold’s touch instead of Reznor’s, it has a cleaner, more futuristic sound rather than the grimy, half-alive, Frankenstein-ish personality of Antichrist.

That being said, Golden Age has a number of chainsaw-like guitars that chug and crunch and buzz throughout the album.  Also prevalent are a number of hard-hitting and catchy electronic drum beats.  “This is the New Shit” is one of the best examples, while “Doll-Dagga-Buzz-Buzz-Ziggety-Zag” is a good example of the aforementioned guitars.  “Slutgarden” stands as a pretty good combination of both, but the title track, “The Golden Age of Grotesque,” is easily my overall favorite due to the eerie, atonal chimes and Manson’s haunting croons.

Unfortunately, Golden Age suffers from many of the same trappings as Manson’s previous couple of albums, the main one being repetition.  I mean seriously, how many times does the chorus need to loop at the end?  Most of the songs are decent, but I just want that last minute or so chopped off, or even better, replaced by something a little more interesting, or hell, even a third verse!  A lot of bands began falling to this “simplified rock convention” around the same time, so I don’t totally blame Manson.  But really, 3 minutes of music don’t need to be stretched out to 5 and a half.

What makes me cringe even more are some of the album’s shamefully sophomoric lyrics.  Though I love the backing music, “This is the New Shit” didn’t do anything for me lyrically.  “Use Your Fist and Not Your Mouth” is equally pedestrian compared to the group’s best work.  And furthermore, enough with the word play!  As if the song titles weren’t enough (“Para-noir,” “Vodevil,” “mOBSCENE,” “(s)AINT”), the lyrics are peppered with them as well.  Some of it is ok (I think “gloominati” works well in its context, and “cocaingels” is pretty clever) but there’s so much of it that it begins to feel like a kid who learns a new word who says it over and over again….and do we really even need to mention “Doll-Dagga-Buzz-Buzz Ziggety-Zag”?

From a certain perspective, Golden Age had the most potential of any Manson album up to that point.  He was freed from the artistic baggage of his previous work, and he was dealing with very theatrical themes, which should’ve played in well with his naturally theatrical behavior.  Strangely, he/they hardly embraced all the burlesque and vaudeville that became synonymous with this era of the band’s career.  This would’ve been an awesome chance to take the music in a radical direction.  What about a brass section?  Maybe an accordion?  Calliope?  Electric organ?  What about a waltz or a march (which would go perfectly with the fashion)?  The boys really had a lot of room to dig back into Portrait-era sounds by playing with the whole cabaret and by extension circus and carnival theme and the sounds therein.  Sometimes I think it would’ve been awesome for them to darken these sounds and add them to the album’s existing harsh percussion and crunchy riffing.

Instead, they took a safer route and in effect we see the beginning of the band’s artistic decline.  Personally, the music on Golden Age is right up my alley for the most part, but I can also see that record is unoriginal, derivative, and largely a result of/reaction to the same brand of industrial and nu-metal that had already been around for 10 years.  I like it, but it still falls within the dearth of similar yet unremarkable albums that just happen to be of a style that I like enough to tolerate unremarkable albums from.  However, this brand of hard rock had largely fallen into the underground by the release of Golden Age, so it actually was kind of nice to hear this sort of music and know that it was new.

I really wish this album had been released a little earlier, as I think Manson had lost a lot of his steam by 2003.  The grating sound and Nazi-influenced attire felt more like a desperate cry for attention rather than an abject cry for rebellion and dissent.  Thematically, I think we were seeing the band a low point, but musically, it’s a nice slice of industrial twinged hard rock that stood out in the sea of emo and indie that was beginning to dominate in the mid-2000’s.

Eat Me, Drink Me (2007)

It would be four long years before we’d see another full-length album from Manson.  During the interim, it seemed he was retiring in order to focus on other pursuits, including art, writing, films, and his personal life.  The boys released a greatest hits album (Lest We Forget) which produced one more single (a cover of Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus”), but for a while there it was generally accepted that “Marilyn Manson” as we knew it would not continue.

In a weird way, that turned out to be true, at least regarding “the band’s” sixth album, Eat Me, Drink Me.  Skold returned for this record, and only Skold returned.  Eat Me, Drink Me may be a Marilyn Manson album in name, but it can better be thought of as a collaboration between Manson himself and Tim Skold.  It’s a difference that shows.  Manson wants to get personal and emotional on this record, but his vulnerability is unconvincing.  Though I think the attempt is genuine, his stab at sentiment and sincerity just doesn’t resonate.  Oh hell, let’s not beat around the bush about it any longer: Eat Me, Drink Me is emo-Manson.

Aurally, imagine a slower, even sensitive Manson song like “Coma White.”  Now genericize the sound with uninspired riffs, enough electronic percussion to throw it right in the center of “mediocre,” and steady midtempo songs that Manson wails his way through; it’s basically alternative rock.  Manson would like to believe that this represents a more melodic side to his music, but the truth is that he doesn’t have the vocal range or timbre to sing more than the most basic tunes.  His gravelly bleating works when he’s belting out misanthropic anthems of sarcasm and hate, but not when he’s trying to wear his heart on his sleeve.  He wants a mournful Cure-esque record to his name, but for a variety of reasons, he can’t make it happen.

It’s regretful, but there’s not much on Eat Me, Drink Me that stands out.  The album’s best cut is the first track, “If I Was Your Vampire,” which retains some of the signature Manson sinister-ness.  The languid guitar lick and haunting backing vocals embody much of what worked about Manson in the past, and there’s even a big booming chorus to provide some heaviness, even if it is a little slower than usual.  “If I Was Your Vampire” approaches something like a funeral dirge, and I would go so far as to say it’s one of the standout tracks of the band’s later career.

The fun stops there though.  A few interesting beats get tossed around (“Heart-Shaped Glasses”) and there’s an uncharacteristic yet unique guitar solo in “Evidence,” but I have an incredibly hard time latching onto these songs.  I have no doubt that this was/is a very personal album, it just doesn’t have a well-defined musical theme.

Most interesting are Manson’s own efforts to distance himself from the material on Eat Me, Drink Me.  Only two of the albums songs would be performed live after 2007, with the last surviving song (ironically “If I Was Your Vampire”) making its final live appearance late in 2009.

The High End of Low (2009)

For some fans, it looked as if Eat Me, Drink Me might truly be Manson’s swan song.  The band was more or less disbanded, the album was far from warmly received, and Manson had previously announced his intention to retire from music.  However, Twiggy returned after an absence of two albums (also signaling the departure of Tim Skold), and the two teamed up with accomplished drummer, keyboardist, and long-time Nine Inch Nails collaborator Chris Vrenna.  Becoming a trio for the first time, Twiggy and Vrenna composed most of the music while Manson handled the lyrics.  Vrenna doubled as both the band’s drummer and keyboardist and Twiggy took on both guitar and bass duties for the recording sessions.  Production was overseen by all three as well.

Unlike the band’s earlier work, this record doesn’t seem to have any sort of theme or shtick to it.  Manson has basically coined it as his breakup (divorce) album, in juxtaposition to Eat Me, Drink Me’s love-oriented themes.  He’s also thrown around comments calling it “the closest thing we’ve done to Antichrist Superstar” and “the record we always wanted to make.”

Well, High End is at least loud and aggressive…and certainly bitter.  Yet again though, repetition plagues this album.  One of the album’s better cuts, “Arma-goddamn-motherfuckin-geddon,” is damn near the same bit of puerile poetry chanted over and over again.  As I listen to it, I kind of dig the overall sound, and there’s a good energy to it, but I finally pinpointed why it wasn’t grabbing my attention – there is a criminal lack of engaging rhythms here.  They aren’t fast, they aren’t slow, they aren’t danceable, they aren’t head-bangable, and most of them aren’t even foot tappable.  I just can’t figure out how they listened to this stuff and decided it was anything beyond simply acceptable.  It’s not bad, it just refuses to stand out.

But despite the lackluster beats, I can at least tell the difference between songs on this album, unlike the previous one.  I appreciate Manson’s attempt to innovate and go outside the box on this one and his quest to create his own brand of hard rock, but I think he’s always worked better with some type of theme in mind.  Even though this doesn’t immediately jump out at me as Manson’s best work, there are a lot of tracks that showcase the new direction of the band’s music.  With a 9 minute running time, “I Want to Kill You Like They Do in the Movies” verges on something special.  “Running to the Edge of the World” is one of the group’s better ballads, and “15” is a distorted, experimental piece that reminds me how adventurous the band can be.  “I Have to Look Up Just to See Hell” sounds like it could’ve come straight from the Antichrist recording sessions.

Ultimately, The High End of Low is a spirited, decent effort from a re-reinvented Marilyn Manson.  It hasn’t blown me away, but I feel like it’s the kind of thing that might grow on me a little more if I had it going in the background more often.  Maybe it’s time for me to keep a copy of this in the car to keep up with from time to time…

Born Villain (2012)

Regardless of how I, or anybody else, feels about Manson, being able to release one’s 8th full-length album while still staying in the public eye is a pretty awesome accomplishment.  Born Villain comes out swinging and is a surprising reinvigoration of what made Marilyn Manson so alluring in the first place.  Although it’s still a rock album first and foremost, the guys have finally brought back some of the borderline metal elements for a raucous and fulfilling record.

With politically correct indie rock and sickeningly inoffensive emo-pop and today’s mundane brand of alternative rock taking over the airways, this album is wildly refreshing.  I looked to Mr. Manson for any words on how he described the music on Born Villain, but clearly he had no fucking clue what he was talking about.  At one point he describes it as “death metal”…which it most certainly is not.  He cites working with Slayer’s Kerry King as an influence, apparently unaware that Slayer was and always has been thrash metal.  Now I don’t generally quibble over genres, but thrash and death metal are well established and fairly rigid in their conventions.  This isn’t even one of those cases where it could vaguely be construed as such; calling Born Villain death metal is as ludicrous as calling Queen bluegrass.  Seriously.

Moreover, Manson also states that Born Villain “doesn’t sound like previous records” and sounds more like the records “he listened to,” going on to name Killing Joke, Bauhaus, Revolting Cocks, and Joy Division.  And then in the very same statement, he turns around and calls his new music “very bluesy.”  Is he even listening to himself!?  First, if we go back to death metal, none of those guys resemble death metal.  Furthermore, I don’t know how anyone can describe a piece of music as both “metal” and “bluesy.”  One of the things that metal does/is was to take rock, make it harder, faster, heavier, and essentially strip away all of the blues elements.  By definition, metal is almost an antithesis of blues!  Secondly, the industrial leanings of Killing Joke and Revolting Cocks and gothic rock of Bauhaus is similar to what he’s been doing off and on for the band’s entire career.  And again, not blues.  At all.

With all that to consider, I’m back where I started, trying to find my own words to describe the band’s 8th album.  Immediately it stands out as a guitar-driven record.  They’re loud, harsh, and fast, and a return to the metallic riffs of early albums like Portrait and Antichrist.  The music may not be as overtly sinister, but it is dark and angry, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like there’s real spirit and passion behind the music.  Manson has finally remembered how to scream and shout, and no longer do we have an entire album’s running time devoted to showcasing his croon.

One of my biggest complaints throughout the last few albums was a lack of rhythmically interesting/engaging material.  Out of nowhere, we’re back on the right track.  Great beats draw distinct lines between tracks and keep the songs fresh.  When Born Villain isn’t flirting with metal, it creates fun electronic diversions reminiscent of the best moments from Animals and Golden Age.  Repetition is still somewhat of an issue here, but I’ve found that the increasingly dynamic music compensates; instead of coming off as monotonous, it veers more towards “more of the good stuff.”  “Pistol Whipped” and “Disengaged” are two of my favorites.

So with such a strong album under their belt after all these years, what could possibly be in store for the followup?

The Pale Emperor (2015)

I am stumped when it comes to The Pale Emperor…not only is it tough to describe, but I’m not really sure that I have a fully formed opinion of it yet.

This album marks yet another radical departure for “the band.”  Similar to Eat Me, Drink Me, Manson has seemingly disbanded his band in favor of collaborating with Tyler Bates, a well known scorer of film soundtracks and TV shows.  In fact, Bates wrote all of the music, performed most of it as well, and helmed production duties.  I am curious as to what happened to Twiggy, especially since there has been no announcement about his departure.  At any rate, it would seem that “Marilyn Manson the band” is a foregone concept, and that now there is only “the man” with a revolving door of collaborators.  I’m unhappy that “they” are no longer a unified and cohesive unit, though I suppose such things come with age.

The music on The Pale Emperor is definitely unique and memorable, and fairly entertaining as well.  The problem?  I’m not sure if I actually like it.  Unlike Manson’s incoherent ramblings about last album, this one actually does have a bluesy inclination, and I’m not so sure I dig it alongside the industrial metal leanings.  Blues riffs dance over groovable beats, and while I could see where someone might dig the combination, it’s not for me.  At least I don’t think it is.  I almost wish he’d committed entirely to a blues and/or country sound, and maybe churned out something in vein of Tom Waits.  And the problem is he won’t stick to one style long enough to perfect, refine, or develop these new ideas into something more.

There are a couple of of fun songs on here, even if I have a tough time latching onto the album a whole.  “Warship My Wreck” is a tense, foreboding track that takes me back to the dark and dismal territory of Antichrist and Holy Wood.  “Slave Only Dreams to be King” is what first sparked the would-be Tom Waits connection.  It’s got a really funky rhythm to it that throws it into new territory for Manson.  My favorite is the recent single “Deep Six,” which has a real punky vibe to it that’s as close to sounding like Portrait as anything they’ve done since Portrait.

As I said, there are plenty of bright spots and cool sounds here on The Pale Emperor, I just don’t think it’s quite my flavor of music.  Then again, the album is fairly new and I would like to let it sink in a little more.  If nothing else, at least the music isn’t generic or boring.  The Animals-esque (and Grotesque-esque to an extent (had to say it!)) beats keep the album moving along at an ample pace.  Most fans will want the edition with as many tracks as possible (i.e. The Deluxe Edition) but don’t let the track titles fool you, they’re merely semi-acoustic versions of existing tracks, and they don’t add much to a complete listen either.

The Pale Emperor is an interesting listen, and I’ll definitely give it more time to grow on me, but I still don’t know if it’ll stick with me.  It at least proves that there’s some life left in whatever the name “Marilyn Manson” means these days, and since I can pretty much count on him (them?) not keeping up with this same style on the next album, I’ll be eager to give it a whirl as well.

End of the Trip

And here we are at the end of the line, at least for now.  At some point I’d be better off admitting that the best albums are in the past, though as I get older, I’ve found that I’m a little more demanding about the music that I listen to regularly.  But regardless of that, it’s still a wonder that music is coming out of the Manson camp after over 20 years, and that a certain amount of it is actually worth listening to.

The music of Marilyn Manson won’t appeal to everyone.  In fact, some people got a dose of his image and never even bothered listening to the music.  It was certainly “shock rock” back in the 90’s and early 2000’s, but since then, the antics have taken a backseat.  Even those who are casually interested in Manson, industrial rock & metal, and/or the 90’s alternative scene in general owe it to themselves to at least give Manson’s first 3 albums a proper listen – Portrait of an American Family, Antichrist Superstar, and Mechanical Animals.  

Here’s how I’d rank them, though it probably comes as no surprise:

1. Antichrist Superstar
2. Portrait of an American Family
3. Holy Wood (In the Shadow of the Valley of Death)
4. Mechanical Animals
5. The Golden Age of Grotesque
6. Born Villain
7. The Pale Emperor
8. The High End of Low
9. Eat Me, Drink Me

My ideal playlist – 80 minutes or less:

1. Apple of Sodom (4:26) (non-album)
2. Kinderfeld (4:51) (Antichrist Superstar)
3. User Friendly (4:17) (Mechanical Animals)
4. Get Your Gunn (3:17) (Portrait of an American Family)
5. Angel with the Scabbed Wings (3:52) (Antichrist Superstar)
6. Cruci-Fiction in Space (4:56) (Holy Wood)
7. Sweet Dreams (4:53) (Smells Like Children)
8. I Put a Spell on You (3:37) (Smells Like Children)
9. Cake and Sodomy (3:53) (Portrait of an American Family)
10. Minute of Decay (4:44) (Antichrist Superstar)
11. Dogma (3:26) (Portrait of an American Family)
12. A Place in the Dirt (3:37) (Holy Wood)
13. Burning Flag (3:21) (Holy Wood)
14. User Friendly (4:17) (Mechanical Animals)
15. Rock N Roll Nigger (3:32) (Smells Like Children)
16. 1996 (4:01) (Antichrist Superstar)
17. Diary of a Dope Fiend (5:56) (Smells Like Children)
18. King Kill 33º (2:18) (Holy Wood)
19. The Reflecting God (5:36) (Antichrist Superstar)
20. Untitled (1:22) (Mechanical Animals) (hidden data track)

Even with all the songs available in Manson’s “main catalog,” there’s a thriving undercurrent of music just below the surface.  First there are all the B-sides and remixes scattered across the multitude of singles.  Then there are all the non-album tracks exclusive to soundtracks, some of which were fairly significant, like “Long Hard Road Out of Hell” and “Apple of Sodom” (itself an outtake from the Antichrist days).  Some of these end up well known and readily available, while others (“The La La Song,” “The Food Pyramid”) slip into almost complete obscurity.  Not enough?  Well, then there is all the demo material from 1989 to 1993, and this is no small chunk of music.  Crazier still, many demos from actual albums have slipped out over time.  We have almost 2 complete (and different!) demo cuts of Portrait, an almost complete demo version of Antichrist Superstar, and a few demos from the Holy Wood, The High End of Low, and Born Villain eras.  If that ain’t enough, hundreds of shows (literally) have been bootlegged, and there are all sorts of fun live things to look out for: a cover of Prince’s “1999,” a cover of The Beatles’ “Come Together,” “Eye” and “The Beautiful People” with the Smashing Pumpkins, an acoustic rendition of “Sweet Dreams,” and so much more. There’s always more Manson to hear, and as long as there are fans, new and unheard songs and demos will probably continue to leak out.

So, when you have a chance, take a trip through Manson’s discography, and let me know what you think!

Written by The Cubist