The news emerged this month that after his latest album The High End of Low failed to sell well, professional controversy magnet Marilyn Manson has been dropped from his record label, Interscope.
I should state here that I was a fan. Not an upside-down crosses-type fan but a going-to-gigs, poster-plastering Antichrist Superstar/Mechanical Animals/Holy Wood-era enthusiast. For me, his devilishly dark lyrics were this side of panto, but his mum-scaring media-posturing, goat’s eye and gruesome imagery, not to mention rocking tunes added up to the right amount of rebellion and intrigue. I still think he’s intelligent and original, not to mention lovin’ the twisted Ziggy aesthetic. And y’know, other people agreed.
So what went wrong for the God of Fuck? Is he just a bit, well, old? It seems unlikely to matter—other deviant metallers have continued well into hoary middle-agedness, from Metallica to Slayer, but then they never exactly traded on their looks. So maybe it’s because the shock-rocker isn’t so shocking any more. Where once a chap in eyeliner would attract derision in the streets, we have Noel Fielding gambolling about on TV in slap and moonboots, while Placebo’s gothic sex pixie Brian Molko performed the other night at the O2 (the O2?!), attracting a large if admittedly not teenage crowd (including the chap behind me who was delighted to spot on the list of forthcoming artists “ooh, UB40!”). Plus, thanks to Stephenie Meyer, vampires, the undead and general spookiness have been de-mystified for the mainstream market. And as for Manson’s anti-Christian imagery, The Da Vinci Code has pretty much plundered the market for Popery-jibing over the past few years.
Then there’s always the recession. No one wants to hear screechy rants about death, destruction and doom when they haven’t got a job. And as he argues, record companies don’t want controversial and difficult artists. It’s much easier to market X-Factor muppets.
Or maybe, maybe, he’s just not that good any more. His most recent video, for Running to the Edge of the World, shows him beating a semi-naked girl to death. No doubt Manson would argue it is some kind of metaphor on relationships, a “statement” or art, but it looks savage and desperately attention-seeking to me. And I haven’t bought his most recent efforts, after the disappointing Golden Age of Grotesque.
Maybe it’s the divorce. Maybe it was the swine flu. Whatever it is, I have no doubt Manson will rise again, and despite recent form, I think the music industry needs his kind of dark imagination, if only to battle the bland.