Daveportivo's Cultural Evaluation Facility

1994's Portrait Of An American Family felt like a real tangible achievement, not musically or as an artistic statement, instead the mere fact of it's existence proved a triumph in itself. The fact that it was remotely listenable and spawned a string of semi-classic singles was a near miracle. It took five years for Marilyn Manson to make this album, and were it not for Trent Reznor's decision to attempt to salvage something passable from a disaster the world may have never been introduced to Mr. Manson. As a result of Trent's rescue job and multiple reworkings the album feels over produced and the use of samples while clever often feel more like plastering over the cracks than a coherent creative direction. It's worth remembering at this stage Marilyn Manson was clearly a band and not a one man show, Warner's hallmarks were in place, but this was a work spawned from a collective imagination. It still an enjoyable listen to this day, it may lack subtly, and the grand vision associated with later Manson efforts, but the shock tactics still work (albeit comedically), this still feels like a classic haloween record. The album opener Family Trip sets the scene as we're then taken on a Misfit meets Industrial horror romp. No signs of Bowie yet, but if there's one thing that's clear from his debut it's that Manson was a ready made hitmaker Lunchbox, Dope Hat, Snake Eyes & Sissies and of course the album's true standout work Cake and Sodomy hinted at Manson mainstream potential. A patchy but promising start.

Note: The Smells Like Children remix and covers album will be skipped over, however it is worth mentioning as it gave Manson his first big hit with his cover of the Eurythmics Sweet Dreams and soar the band adopt the goth aesthetic.

You could have been mistaken when listening to the excellent Tourniquet for concluding that Marilyn Manson had dropped the pretence and actually transformed into an Alice Cooper tribute act, then of course the I Spit On Your Grave meets Ministry chorus comes in and it leaves Cooper looking more the Evil Dead trilogy in comparison to his X-rated holocaust. Yes Manson always had a sense of humour, but this record was without doubt his scariest, musically it was a meat grinder, the gruesome but maniacally humorous cannibal production line run by miss Helana Bonham Carter in Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd. Behind the aesthetics lay Manson's masterpiece, perhaps creatively it fell short of his lofty ambitions, but the sheer drive and scope of the undertaking meant that this was an album that couldn't fail, it would be Manson's definitive statement. Playing out like a grim opera, Manson tells the story of the lowly worm as he rises to super stardom before he himself is transformed into the kind of monster he used to despise, albeit a bit more psychotic. Of course lyrically it's all rather vague and Manson tends to favour punch lines and posturing over any kind of structured narrative. The hits stack up regardless with Beautiful People and Tourniquet becoming instant classics, but the real surprise is the tightness of the product overall. It's far too long, but it's rarely less than catchy, consistently funny and eternally menacing. Tracks like Wormboy pack enough laughs and shocks to make up for longer slogs like the forgetable Cryptorchild. The album's real weakness is it's Goth-Industrial aesthetic, the key board riffs simply aren't hooky enough and their is a lack of crunching riffs and killer solos to take certain tracks out of third gear, it instead relies on the wall of noise approach demonstrated on the not unsuccessful Mister Superstar. Regardless the album achieved it's ultimate objective it turned Marilyn Manson into public enemy number one, cemented the bands own mythology and internal dialogue into public's consciousness, and giving birth to the AntiChrist Superstar.

Goodbye Reznor hello Diamond Dogs. Yes without regard for subtly Mechanical Animals saw the arrival of Manson's biggest influence. Mr. Bowie took centre stage but he brought with him a touch of Floyd, a dollop of Roxy Music and even a flirtation with Eno and The Knack (I'm not joking listen carefully to New Model No.15). Yes in 1998 Manson turned away from the maniacal torture device that was Antichrist Superstar and embraced with open arms glam rock, and in the process he made his most mainsteam effort to date, and his best. What Manson loses in Menance he more than makes up for with genuine tunefulness. Every inch of this album is addictive and surprisingly consistent. Consistency after all has always been Manson ultimate weakness he's never been able to sustain his music or creative quality across and entire album, luckily here he succeeds. Mechanical Animals is yet another concept album an the prequal to Antichrist Superstar, half the album is performed as Marilyn Manson and half as Omega & The Mechanical Albums. Of course the end result was not in the same league as the Spiders from Mars but it wasn't a bad effort at immortality. This album with it's lush accessible glam aesthetic would also see the birth of many Manson trademarks; somewhere between the brilliant Rock Is Dead and the less thrilling Posthuman are all the major gimmicks that would be repeated relentlessly for the next decade, both Mobscene & Fight Song were born of their parentage. The Speed Of Pain shows new scope for Manson as he attempts a genuine epic starting off somewhere between Wish You Were Here and Exit Music (For A Film) and ending on a glamified rockship to the stratosphere. Unfortunately while this maybe Manson's most cohesive work it's not without it's stinkers I Don't Like The Drugs (But The Drugs Like Me) and I Want To Dissapear are nothing but half baked ideas and empty posturing. Ultimately Mechanical Animals added depth and creativity to the one dimensional assault of Antichrist Superstar but unfortunately served to alienate large swathes of Manson's core fanbase. Thankfully ten years removed from controversy it stands as Manson most interesting stand alone listen.

When deciding which is Manson greatest album it becomes a straight shoot out between Mechanical Animals and Holy Wood. The former offered a much needed expansion of and diversion from Manson's core sound creating a more cohesive and intriguing work; Holy Wood sees Manson treading the middle ground between Mechanical Animals and Antichrist Superstar. It doesn't offer anything particularly new and yet again it's overly long but it does offer Manson's best collection of tracks to date. Disposable Teens, The Nobodies, The Fight Song and The Love Song formed the best run of singles in Manson's career and even the filler was marginally better than that seen on Antichrist Superstar. Holy Wood was yet another concept album, the third and final part of a three part story arc, and believe it or not Holy Wood was actually yet another prequal this time to Mechanical Animals. This was Manson rage at the amoral Hollywood culture and conservative America reaching it's peak, both as a critical statement and an artistic concept. Unfortunately, this is ground that had been so thoroughly trodden on the previous two LPs that it rather seemed Manson had run out of inspiration and had become a one trick pony. However realistically it seemed like Manson was finding new more complex ways of express his theme artistically, he had nothing new to say, he had simply found a way of expressing himself in a more articulate and dramatic form. As a result we are presented with tracks like the brilliant Target Audience and the eternally catchy The Nobodies, which further explore the theme of the worm. Manson also reaches a new melodramatic high on In The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death. However whereas Mechanical Animals felt like an exploration of a new found Zietgiest and a celebration of a spiritual godfather at times Holy Wood feels more like cartoon Bowie karaoke. At the end of the day it's a tough call, if you prefer the raving figurehead in the war against conservatism then Holy Wood is for you, if you prefer slick grooves and nilhistic romance then Mechanical Animals is the clear winner. Holy Wood was bloated but sporadically brilliant and it will remain the fan's favourite, the creative peak of Manson central concept but it can never match the impact or originality of his original 1996 mission statement, and that is it's ultimate failing.

It's ironic that on an album that has absolutely nothing new to offer and no original thought on display whatsoever that in pointing out the obvious the critic manages to fall into the same trap as Manson himself. We find ourselves constantly repeating one another and making the same observations, I'm obliged to point out that not only is the excellent Mobscene an amalgamation of Manson previously successful singles but it also pinches Faith No More's Cheerleader hook from Be Aggressive. Furthermore I have draw attention to the album's opening line "Everything Has Been Said Before, Nothing Left To Say Anymore", this is of course Manson's own recognition that his own shtick is thoroughly worn out. Another exploration of conservatism, greed and religion would be beyond tedious. Instead Manson offers the New Shit which sounds the same as the old shit but this time stripped of any shred of intellectual integrity. In it's place are ridiculously lines and embarrassing raps as seen on Use Your Fist And Not Your Mouth where Manson proclaims "I'm On A Campaign For Pain, And When I Get Elected I'll Wipe The White Off Your House, And The Smile Off Your Face". Manson seems to be simultaneously making light of himself and his audience. It's a dangerous tactic but endearing one as the first thirty minutes are too hummable and too much damn fun to deny, no matter how brain dead and intellectual bankrupt it may be. Of course by 2003 Manson was no longer scary, and he'd become more of a joke, and being a smart business man he realized he had to embrace the silliness rather than swim against the tide. One question remained after this passable offering where was he to go next, and would his audience stick around to find out?

Eat Me, Drink Me was a landmark record in many ways, it was the first time in over a decade that Manson actually strectched his vocal range, and yes stretched is the word. Manson's croon and screech is dark and raspier than ever before, and it gives the album a sweeping Spaghetti Western feel allowing Putting Holes In Happiness to sound like a lost classic and a should be snoozer like If I Was Your Vampire become a great fallen romance. And to be honest it's about damn time, over the course of his career Manson stretch his sound to the extremes and got about as much milage out of his limmited bag of tricks as humanly possible but he never expanded his vocal range. It's been the same growl and screech combo, he's never developed range, and this is arguably why he's never been able to transcend his limitations. Eat Me, Drink Me really should have been a hit, the grand spaciousness of his early work has returned, tracks echo like true epics and the sound has a raw and yet cavernous depth, but the whole enterprise is undermined by Manson himself. His lyrics are more personal and less thematic which is a welcome improvement but he's simply a bore, he's learnt no new phrases, he's never developed a convincing falsetto, he's got nothing. Luckily he still has a flare for the dramatic and can write a hell of hit (Heart Shaped Glasses deserves far more acclaim than it garnered), but people were bored of Manson and rightly so, he was old news, and he wasn't going to change. He was lazy and even his formidable live reputation dissapeared. Eat Me, Drink Me could have been a breakthrough instead it was a headlong dive into irrelevance, which is a shame, it deserved far better.

Ah there had been glimmers of hope on both The Golden Age Of Grotesque and Eat Me, Drink Me that Manson could evolve, on both albums he failed, sure it was the same old stick, but the former suggested he could be a tongue in cheek Goth-answer to the Kaiser Cheifs, and the latter suggested that he could turn his shock rock into a big sweeping Western melodrama. Unfortunately these were brief flirtatious, the last desperate moments of life before Manson would slip into a coma from which he may never awake. The High End Of Low was so creatively bankrupt it hardly bears talking about, why does he insist on being the Antichrist Superstar, it's 2009! Eminem isn't shocking anymore so how does Manson think he can terrify conservatives. He's old news, when Nick Griffin is on question time there things far more terrifying to worry about than a guy who dresses like the '90s never ended. Pretty As A Swastika says it all, was anyone remotely shocked reading that title? No, was anyone remotely intrigued? Of course not.Was anyone more than a little embarrassed? Don't worry you're not the only one. Manson needs help, he needs to go away, he needs to grow up, he needs to find a new voice and a new zietgiest, self promotion can only get you so far. It maybe too late in the day but perhaps he could team up with fellow midlife crisis victim Trent Reznor and come back with something truly revolutionary, or maybe it's just time he called it a day for good before what's left of his legacy is destroyed. Another performance like that at Download '09 and he will find himself with no fanbase left whatsoever.

Endnote: So there we have it the slow decline of a one of the most prominent pop culture icons of the last twenty years. He went from an Alice Cooper shock rocker to the Antichrist Superstar before settling into Bowie Idol hybrid, from then on in the rot set in and he declined into total irrelevance due largely to his own stubbornness and lack of creativity. So what is Manson true legacy, what is his best album? It's of course it's Lest We Forget, his greatest hits album, he was always best as a hit maker, and for all his artist endeavours his substance could never match his style and it's his hits not his creative legacy that will endure alongside the controversy. I am left with one question? Why did he insist on such bloodly long albums? If he condense every album into less than 40 minutes I may have had a very different story to tell.