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I can tell you the exact day I became a Marilyn Manson fan:
Dec. 6, 1994 . I was at the Baltimore Arena with my dad and
brother to see Nine Inch Nails at the height of their popularity.
But first, I was introduced to “Satan’s favorite
band,” Marilyn Manson. I quickly added Manson’s
debut album, Portrait of an American Family, to my
CD collection. His full-length follow-up, Antichrist Superstar,
released two years later, still occupies a high spot on my
all-time favorite albums list. I have been a Manson fan for
almost 15 years now (roughly half my life) and have seen nearly
every tour that has come through the Maryland/D.C. area.
I tell you all of this so that it means something when I
say that The High End of Low, Manson’s seventh
studio effort, represents the first time he has disappointed
me.
My own high expectations are part of the problem. I’m
sure I was not alone in my hopes. The reason: the return of
bassist Twiggy Ramirez. The albums he co-wrote and recorded
with Manson during his first stint with him—Antichrist
Superstar, Mechanical Animals (1998) and Holy
Wood (In the Shadow of the Valley of Death)
(2000)—are arguably the best of Manson’s career.
After the more emotional, vulnerable side Manson showed on
2007’s Eat Me, Drink Me, I was hoping for a
return to the more aggressive style that characterized his
earlier work. Remember, at one time Manson’s music could
be considered metal.
I suppose it’s wrong to criticize an album for not
being something it was never intended to be. So instead I’ll
criticize it for having too many slow, plodding songs, especially
in its second half. “I Want to Kill You Like They Do
in the Movies” is the chief culprit, lasting nine minutes
when four or five would have done the job.
The disc starts with promise, hopeful guitars the ironic
accompaniment to lyrics possibly describing a murder-suicide
(“I can’t sleep until I devour you”) on
the opener, “Devour.” Then “Pretty as a
($)” hits hard with an industrial-tinged sound that
recalls classic Manson. “Four Rusted Horses,”
with an acoustic guitar laid over an incessant stomp and the
great refrain of “Everyone will come, everyone will
come to my funeral to make sure that I stay dead,” might
be my favorite song on the album. “Arma-goddamn-motherfuckin-geddon,”
maybe the most unlikely single ever, should be another strong
concert anthem.
The bulk of the album, though, finds Manson crooning like
some kind of goth-rock singer-songwriter. They aren’t
necessarily bad songs, but taken in succession, they quickly
grow tiresome. That’s not what I want to hear from Manson.
I’m sure he doesn’t care—which I can respect.
But that doesn’t change my opinion of The High End
of Low one bit.
®2009 Live-Metal.net
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