The EM Poll

Marilyn Manson

Jan 10, 2008 2:59 PM, By Jeff Perlah

           

The Wizard of Odd

He's the undisputed king of shock rock, creating controversy with every grotesque move he makes. Raising the blood pressure of mainstream society with putrid imagery and ever-mutating personae is what Marilyn Manson does. And it doesn't happen by accident; Manson (whose real name is Brian Warner) knows exactly what he's doing. While many contemporary metallic rockers try to elevate teen testosterone levels with muscle-bound bravado and jockstrap humor, Marilyn Manson seeks to raise eyebrows with a volatile, venomous, and provocative critique of the status quo.

When last seen, Manson and band were spewing their shtick on the main stage of this year's Ozzfest. That followed on the heels of their Guns, God, and Government tour, which took its moniker from “The Love Song,” a key cut on Manson's latest opus, Holy Wood (In the Shadow of the Valley of Death) from Nothing/Interscope. The sprawling album concludes a trilogy of sorts, which began with the industrial- and goth-flavored Antichrist Superstar (1996) and continued with the David Bowie — esque Mechanical Animals (1998).

While drawing from Manson's entire catalog, his recent gigs have featured his most, well, interesting presentation to date. His getups include a mechanized fetish dress that elevates him some 40 feet; an archbishop costume; and a huge, stage-spanning pair of satanic bat wings — appropriate, since Manson has been ordained as a minister in Anton LaVey's Church of Satan. He also croons beside a crucifix made out of rifles. In short, Manson's show is more bombastically topical than ever. “It's about those three words: guns, God, and government,” Manson says in a soft-spoken drawl.

“I really wanted to set them up against each other. I wanted the stage, at one moment, presenting an idea of God and what people worship, and then switching that with people's thirst for violence and how they are one and the same. So we made the crucifix into guns,” says Manson of his concept. “We were trying to throw these ideas back and forth in front of people so it would make them think and come up with their own conclusions. I don't think you can really spell something out completely. It's like preaching, so I prefer to create a bunch of strong images and let people be inspired by them or think about things differently from the way they did before the show.”

Although Manson's presentation is designed to shock at every moment, he claims that the truth about his show gets distorted. A few of his favorite tall tales are outlined in an “affidavit” section of his autobiography, The Long Hard Road Out of Hell (Regan Books/HarperPerennial). “Torturing animals, throwing big bags of drugs into the audience, raping young boys on stage,” Manson says. “In what country do they think this would take place, where I wouldn't be in prison for it? I'll move there!” he laughs. “Like with any mythology or folklore, it changes every time it goes from one to mouth to another. It's always based on a tiny bit of truth, and then it just goes somewhere else.”

Occasionally, however, the hyperbole gives Manson a serviceable idea. Not long ago, for instance, “it was reported that I was planning to use shredded Bibles as confetti in my show. What a great idea!” says Manson. “I think they must have combined the fact that I used to tear up a Bible to be symbolic and that I said I was gonna read from the Bible in Denver.”

For his interview with Onstage, Manson threw aside his devil's wings and colored eyeball-covers and revealed a candid, articulate, and surprisingly gentle demeanor. He spoke at length about rehearsals, onstage musicianship, and over-the-top theatrics — not to mention his own hell-raising crusade for free expression.

What most inspires you to perform live nowadays?

I think the same political and social atmosphere that was taking place when I started the band has kind of come full circle, and now I have the same fire in me that I had before. I think I lost it somewhat in the middle, but now I feel kind of born-again, like I did when I started the band. So I have the same anger in me to say all the things that I put in my songs with real conviction.

Anger about what?

I think a combination of political pressure — which inspires censorship, for example — and the never-ending idiocy of religion. And trying to blame entertainment for the way people behave. Like of course, the beating I took on Columbine. [In media reports, Manson's music was cited for allegedly helping to inspire the 1999 massacre at Columbine High School in Colorado, in which 2 teenagers killed 13 people, including themselves.] All of that combined together was kind of the boiling point. So I could either stop doing this entirely, or do it even more extreme than it was before, and with more conviction.

You've commented to journalists that you try not to be self-indulgent on stage. Do you think that might surprise people?

Well, I've always felt that I'd rather, as a music fan, see a show that was short but great, rather than see a show that was good and long — because I've been to concerts where I felt like if it would have ended 15 minutes earlier, it would have been the best show ever. It became mediocre because they went three songs more than they needed to and watered everything else down. I'm not necessarily self-conscious of boring people, but at the same time, I feel like I don't want to play music for my own entertainment. I'm there to entertain a crowd and to make them feel like they're a part of the same thing we [the performers] are a part of. The best way to do that is by giving them what they want. I still believe that, as an artist, you do what makes you feel good. But you have to remember that part of what makes you feel good is creating a response from an audience, so you have to really balance things. “Should I play this ten-minute song that I really like and the crowd doesn't know, but I'm doing it for myself?” I think that's kind of arrogant and becomes self-indulgent. Then again, everything I do on stage could be looked at as self-indulgent, the entire theatrical element.