“There's something
about Marilyn”
By Edna Gundersen
USA TODAY
LOS ANGELES
— Hate magnet Marilyn Manson happily serves as America's poster child for
evil, but he's not willing to take the rap for Columbine.
A favorite whipping
boy for parents and politicians, Manson and his confrontational music became
easy targets after the massacre in April 1999 at the Colorado high school,
where two teen boys killed 12 classmates and a teacher before turning their
guns on themselves. We later learned that the killers were not Manson fans,
but that didn't stop media speculation and renewed calls for music censorship.
Columbine underscored
Manson's pet observation (one that inspired his stage name) that "there's
a real fine line between entertainers and mass murderers," he says. "America
has created an environment through the media where people know they can get
their picture on the cover of Time or Newsweek by doing something outrageous,
either as an artist or by hurting someone. They will always put the killer
on the cover before they put the victim, because it's more dramatic for them
to help sell fear."
Disputing the
notion that violent art leads to violent acts, Manson says: "You can't blame
people's behavior on books, music, film and video games, which are important
outlets for emotions. Growing up, I always escaped to music if things got
too hard to deal with. When you take away the things people identify with,
you create these little time bombs that eventually explode. People feel smothered
when they aren't heard."
The lanky and
soft-spoken Manson, sporting shades, black garb and none of his trademark
war paint, is sequestered in his Sunset Boulevard headquarters in a Spartan
room with drawn blinds and no lights, save the tape recorder's glowing red
dot.
In this sinister
setting, he expounds: "Art, by nature, has to be evil because it challenges
the status quo and what the mainstream defines as beautiful or moral or ideal.
I wanted to represent chaos, the simple upheaval of everyday regimens and
routines that trap people. That's a war I'm always willing to fight. Columbine
wasn't my war to fight. It was a wake-up call that said, 'You're not listening
to your kids.' I was no more guilty than any other person in America."
Though unfazed
by rumors that have ranged from sordid to silly — that he sacrificed animals,
worshiped Satan, got breast implants, portrayed Paul on The Wonder Years and
had ribs removed so he could perform oral sex on himself — Manson was stunned
by the unrelenting media attacks after Columbine. Distressed by a flurry of
death threats, he canceled shows and finally retreated, locking himself in
an attic for three months to write Holy Wood, his fifth studio album. It's
also the title of a novel due early next year.
He did not
retreat philosophically. Recorded in an L.A. house once occupied by Harry
Houdini, the 19-track Holy Wood is a prequel to 1996's goth-industrial Antichrist
Superstar and 1998's glam-rock Mechanical Animals. It explores violence, death,
religion and societal decay with snarling fury and explicit detail.
"I've got a
crush on a pretty pistol," he croons in The Love Song. In GodEatGod, he sings,
"Dear God, if you were alive, you know we'd kill you." A haunting line in
The Nobodies seems to conjure Columbine: "We are the nobodies, we wanna be
somebodies/When we're dead, they'll know just who we are." Elsewhere, Manson
exults, "Let's sing the death song, kids!"
Predictably,
some chain stores have banned the album or concealed its cover (a crucified
Manson with a missing jaw). With scattered exceptions, critics are impressed.
The dark concept
album is "the hateful huckster's most potent effort yet" (Entertainment Weekly),
"the religiously offensive manifesto Manson promised" (Revolver), "smart,
powerful and guaranteed to give parents nightmares" (Music365.com), and "by
far the best thing Manson has ever set his warped mind to" (NME).
In his dual
study of evolution and revolution, Manson turns to Christian figures and parables
to convey the struggle of a naive protagonist seeking the world's acceptance.
"You're fighting
to fit in, and you realize when you get there that the people around you are
the same ones who held you down and humiliated you," says Manson (born Brian
Warner). "You've finally arrived, but that bite from the apple of knowledge
is bitter and causes a resentment that turns into revolution. Starting a band
was my revolution."
Holy Wood's
autobiographical saga draws parallels between Manson and John F. Kennedy,
John Lennon and Jesus Christ, the device most likely to irk his detractors.
"In some ways,
I've remained this Peter Pan, trapped by my desire to live in my imagination
rather than within the standards people impose," says the Ohio native, 31,
raised in the Episcopal Church and force-fed biblical passages that gave him
nightmares about the Apocalypse. "The story is very traditional, very symbolic
and inspired, strangely enough, by the Bible. I look at Christ as a revolutionary
and the first celebrity, someone who had dangerous ideas, was ultimately sacrificed
and became merchandised into a necklace or something to hang on the wall."
Manson asserts
that, despite the advance of civilization, mankind remains determined to destroy
itself. And contrary to the views of Manson loathers William Bennett and Joe
Lieberman, entertainment is not a catalyst in this doomsday scenario. Cain
had no slasher films to persuade him to kill Abel, he notes.
Likewise, no
Hollywood release rivals the horror in Abraham Zapruder's home movie of the
JFK assassination. Violent content on the rise? Manson scoffs, "We're not
feeding people to lions for entertainment anymore. The times aren't more violent,
they're just more televised."
His marilynmanson.com
asks, "Is adult entertainment killing our children, or is killing our children
entertaining adults?"
Manson's status
as pop-culture provocateur and musical terrorist makes him an outcast among
fans of bubblegum and frat rock, chart juggernauts that may not make room
for the artist AOL.com users voted "scariest celebrity." First single Disposable
Teens got a warm reception on the radio, and concert tickets are going fast:
An L.A. show sold out in 12 minutes. Still, Holy Wood risks plummeting into
the abyss between the polar trends of teen pop and rap-rock.
"It's my job
to carve a place for it," Manson says. "Everything now is fashionably loud
and angry. This album has genuine emotion that I needed to vent. I tried to
create something that's heavy and yet has some irony and intelligence. There
may be a thirst for that now. People are probably a bit over saturated by
this generic hip-hop/metal that's been rehashed for the past two years. It's
a sad time in music, almost like disco, in that there's no need for lyrics
because they're not talking about anything."
Though Manson
continues to inflame moral watchdogs, he may be losing currency with youth,
says Alan Light, editor of Spin, which dismissively compares Holy Wood to
"a seventh James Bond movie without any new gadgets."
"In light of
Eminem and, before that, the ascension of hip-hop, Manson and all those representatives
of alt-rock torment and rage started to feel very hollow," Light says. "Kids
feel like it's shtick, very show biz and calculated."
While Manson
shrugs off charges of nihilism and wickedness, he bristles at the implication
that he's a schlock 'n' shock poseur.
"I've always
had a desire to be provocative and to make people think, but it wouldn't be
any challenge for me just to be shocking," he says. "That is where it begins
for me, not where it stops. And I could be much more shocking. I think I've
adopted a sense of subtlety. I don't sit around wondering how I can make myself
even stranger to the world. I've simply evolved into the monster I created,
and I'm quite happy with it."
Rock's self-proclaimed
demon seed borders on conventional in ways that might surprise fans and foes
alike. He's engaged to actress Rose McGowan, devoted to dogs Bug and Fester,
and speaks frequently to his parents. He's politically conservative and disdainful
of crusades to feed children abroad or free foreign prisoners when U.S. needs
should come first. What offends this entertainment radical and champion of
free expression?
"Bleeding-heart
liberals," he sniffs. "I find them very insincere, especially in Hollywood.
Those are the people I would like to punch in the face the most. I guess a
lot of people would find me more right wing than left wing, although I find
myself in both wings. That's what lets me fly."