IN REVIEW: Marilyn Manson - "The Pale Emperor"
As the anti-everything gleefully pushing any button he could find, Manson found himself in an orgy of controversy from 1994 to 1999, a span during which he consistently horrified, shocked and entertained with various stunts while reveling in the chaos he was causing. In 1998, however, he stirred up controversy among his own fans by radically switching up his image and his band's ethos for third album Mechanical Animals; after amassing a legion of black-clad minions who were willing to go to war with him in his crusade against the oppression of church and state, Manson decided he'd rather wear fake tits, take drugs and pretend to be David Bowie. Some fans had been so affected by the music and/or message of Antichrist Superstar that they became lifelong devotees, unfazed by the sudden changes but, by the time Holy Wood was released as a noble but somewhat desperate attempt to get back to the culture of Antichrist Superstar, the course of demise was already set.
Over the next decade and change, as the right wing media found new people to blame the corruption of the nation's youth on, Manson's discography trended downward while that fervent fan base largely grew up and moved on. In 2015, there aren't many original fans left, and even those that remain would have to grudgingly admit that his post-2000 output, while certainly good for a few massive songs, is far weaker than his '90s work. As he's seen his returns diminish, Manson has already tried just about every trick in the book to stay above water, but nothing's stuck. So, after being involved in the successful final season of Sons of Anarchy and recognizing a chance to connect with a new fan base, he's taken cues from the bluesy soundtracks of the show and incorporated them into his own music.
Melding the blues into his existing aesthetic shouldn't work as well as it does on paper, but the proof is in the pudding. The Pale Emperor's opening track, the slow and groovy ode to shooting rampages Killing Strangers, creeps up on you rather than waving its hands in your face. In this, it's more effective in its execution, a subtle suggestion for attention rather than a screaming, spitting demand. It's also the perfect lead-in to album highlight and first single Deep Six which, as a four-on-the-floor rocker sandwiched between Killing Strangers and Stonesy slow-burner Third Day of a Seven Day Binge, absolutely lays waste.
On The Mephistopheles of Los Angeles, Manson and band mates thrash their way through a foot-tapping bluesy romp that falls somewhere in the vicinity of Zeppelin via Gary Glitter (without the pedophilia, of course). Side A closer Warship My Wreck uses keyboards and atmospheric noise to allow the ballad to hit with a bit more force. Slave Only Dreams To Be King starts off the second half with bombast and swagger, with some audio samples included to give it a Rob Zombie-style kick, while The Devil Beneath My Feet glams up the proceedings with a fuzzed-out bass line and some hand claps. Birds of Hell Awaiting marks the first song that didn't really stick with me, which speaks to the quality of the album that I didn't lose interest until track eight; it reminds me a bit of early '90s Depeche Mode (which makes sense considering Manson covered Personal Jesus about a decade ago), but the song only goes so far before spinning its tires. It's a slight misfire, but a misfire all the same.
Thankfully, the album finishes strong. Cupid Carries a Gun, which already saw light of day as the theme song for TV series Salem, is fully formed and fleshed out on record with a nice build in intensity that you didn't get a sniff of in its original 45 second sample size. And closing track Odds of Even is Manson's big prog moment, channeling Zeppelin and Floyd as much as Cooper and Bowie. It's an unsettling dirge that perfectly encapsulates the spirit of the record as a whole; it's a brilliant epilogue.
The Pale Emperor isn't without its flaws, but it doesn't hide them behind walls of noise or forced attempts at controversy. It's proud of its imperfections, the result of a process that was clearly more focused on making good music than creating infamy. It's more of a personal endeavour than a fabricated character study; to that end, even if its intentions are shrewdly targeted at an untapped demographic it's probably the realest Marilyn Manson record anyone's ever heard, and definitely the best one I've heard this millennium.
January 20, 2015 • Hell, etc./Dine Alone
Highlights Killing Strangers • Deep Six • Cupid Carries a Gun
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