Marilyn Manson
Mechanical Animals

THE REVIEW

I have never denied being a victim for a period of those false rumors that saw the leader of Marilyn Manson (real name Brian Warner) as the incarnation of the devil. Over the last two years, I have "awakened" and realized how uninformed the journalists were about the band in question, not at all satanic contrary to those overrated (in my opinion, don't hate me for this) nullities of Mayhem or that hypocrite Glen Benton. By casting away prejudices, I had the chance to discover the abundant quality contained in the sounds of the first four studio works released between 1994 and 2001, before the death, always speaking musically.

Discovered by the living genius Trent Reznor, after the phenomenal debut "Portrait Of An American Family" and the masterpiece "Antichrist Superstar" (undoubtedly one of the best albums of the '90s), in 1998 they released their second work of art, "Mechanical Animals," the second chapter of a "backward" trilogy (in the previous one, "The Worm" was the protagonist, here there is the extraterrestrial "Omega," eventually leading to Adam Kadmon later on). The sounds are still particularly heavy, but less industrial than the previous album, and more inclined towards glam rock mixed with electronics, almost an homage to Alice Cooper and T-Rex of the golden days with a hint of David Bowie.

There isn't a single piece particularly noteworthy; you can feel there's a lot happening, and that's precisely what allows the CD to be among Manson's best work. From the big launching singles ("Rock Is Dead," "The Dope Show," "I Don't Like The Drugs (But The Drugs Like Me)," the best of the three in my opinion), to the intensity of "The Speed Of Pain," perhaps one of Mr. Warner's most acoustic pieces, with an uncredited Billy Corgan doing backing vocals (not credited in the booklet), from the danceable madness of "Posthuman" or "New Model No. 15," to "Great Big White World," his tribute to this world in the throes of decay, not to mention the title track, or "Dissociative." But "Coma White" must be especially mentioned, the fourth single, a vigorous lament that sweeps everything away, the best way to end the space journey of this sci-fi "Omega."

The musicians all make a damn good impression. Besides Warner himself, who proves to have a rather raspy voice, there's guitarist Zim Zum (who plays on almost all the songs before making way for John 5), the somewhat schizophrenic keyboardist (with strange -in a positive way- playing styles, not really fortunately!) Madonna Wayne Gacy, then the peculiar Ginger Fish, accomplished drummer, and that bassist with real guts named Twiggy Ramirez, perhaps the one who, along with Trent, contributed most to the band's sound.

I'll finish by recommending you listen to this CD because, in my view, Marilyn Manson still had something to say, and in a big way. Then to write his swan song with the excellent "Holy Wood," and subsequently sell out to some kind of "clownishness." But now I wonder: will the recent return of Twiggy on bass, with the next work coming out towards the end of the year, be able to break the dead-end wall where the leader has remained stuck in recent years?

Only time will tell.

p.s.: yes, this is the second review of this work (there's a third one, but it's a comedic story that has me dying of laughter), but I couldn't resist the urge to write one...