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Rating: Something unhealthy had already been hinted at by the various demo tapes circulated in the early '90s by this band of young rowdies known as Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids, but no one expected such a striking debut from an emerging band, especially in an America that was slowly witnessing the last breaths of a dying genre like grunge.
Farewell to depression, what Marilyn Manson has to offer us is a long emotional trip through our deepest fears, the fears of a society that gradually emerged from the nightmare of the Cold War and now sees the United States as the undisputed rulers of the world. A society heavily influenced by the media, where the only escape seems to come from drug use: this is the world depicted by Brian Warner in "Portrait of an American Family", a vomit-inducing family portrait where TV seems to take over the minds of us poor thinking beings.
Musically speaking, it is an excellent blend of garage, hard-rock, and vague references to doom, all expertly tied together by the charisma and theatricality of Marilyn Manson, the undisputed leader of this new infernal creature. Reminiscences of Alice Cooper, Ozzy Osbourne, and Iggy Pop linger in Mr. Manson's provocative behavior, but nothing in the past has been as virulent and direct as a punch to the stomach like the rock of this "Portrait of an American Family".
After an anguishing intro like "The Family Trip", we are jolted by "Cake and Sodomy", a protest anthem against a hypocritical and double-dealing America ("Cash in hand and dick on screen / Who said God was ever clear?"). The bullying in American schools is denounced by Manson in "Lunchbox", a generational anthem that even 12 years after its recording still incites the Reverend's fans to rebel against injustices.
The album, with its highs and lows, presents us with gems of rare beauty like the drugged "Dope Hat", in which Madonna Wayne Gacy's keyboards weave carpets loaded with LSD and amphetamines for young boys escaping an oppressive reality. A worthy breaking point between the two "components" of the album is the subsequent "Get Your Gunn", which with a simple riff and pounding bass line leads us to the more rock part of the album, filled with enjoyable tracks like "Dogma" and "Wrapped in Plastic" (with a vague grunge flavor). The album closes with "My Monkey" (a homage to the infamous serial killer
Charles Manson) and the bland "Misery Machine".
It's 1994, and the times of the Antichrist, of the Manson known and feared around the world as a bearer of immoral principles and corrosive ideals for the younger generations, are still far off. Despite everything, the violent charge of Marilyn Manson is well contained in these sixty-one minutes of excellent music. This was the beginning of everything, the start of a legend, an important chapter in the musical history of the '90s; one cannot pretend otherwise and snub Marilyn Manson's offering, it would be a mortal sin!
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Prelude (The Family Trip) (01:21)
There's no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going
There's no knowing where we're going
Or which way the wind is blowing
Is it raining? Is it snowing
Is a hurricane a-blowing
Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Oh, the fires of hell are glowing
Is the grisly reaper mowing
Yes! The danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing
And they're certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing!
Stop the boat!
02 Cake and Sodomy (03:46)
I am the god of fuck, I am the god of fuck
virgins sold in quantity, herded by heredity
red-neck-burn-out-midwest-mind
who said date rape isn't kind
porno nation, evaluation
what's this, time for segregation
libido, libido fascination, too much oral defecation
(chorus)
white trash get down on your knees
time for cake and sodomy
white trash get down on your knees
time for cake and sodomy
time for cake and sodomy
time for cake and sodomy
I am the god of fuck, I am the god of fuck
vcr's and vaseline, tv-fucked by plastic queens
cash in hand and dick on screen
who said god was ever clean
bible belt 'round anglo waist, putting sinners in their place
yeah, right, great if you're so good explain the shit stains on your face
(chorus)
repeat
yeah
time for cake and sodomy
time for cake and sodomy
03 Lunchbox (04:33)
Bring me down
On we plow
The big bully try to stick his finger in my chest
Try to tell me, tell me he's the best
But I don't really give a good goddamn 'cause
I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
I wanna grow up
I wanna be a big rock and roll star
I wanna grow up
I wanna be
So no one fucks with me
I got my pencils in my pocket, try to put me down
Wanna go out, gotta get out to the playground
Gonna throw down at the playground
I wanna go out
Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
Next motherfucker
Pow, pow, pow
Pow, pow, pow
Pow, pow, pow
Pow, pow, pow
I wanna grow up
I wanna be a big rock and roll star
I wanna grow up
I wanna be
So no one fucks with me
Yeah
I wanna grow up
I wanna be a big rock and roll star
I wanna grow up
I wanna be
So no one fucks with me
I wanna grow up
I wanna be a big rock and roll star
I wanna grow up
I wanna be
So no one fucks with me
05 Cyclops (03:32)
cyclops woman got one eye in her head
mascera clotted vision she is fed
cyclops woman can't see nothing at all
she got a pin-prick-spiral hole
she can't see nothing, nothing at all
she can't see nothing, nothing at all
cyclopss woman dying in her shell
guilt got her trapped in nailed in well
cyclops woman is the eye of the world
who's reflection's in the retina
she can't see nothing, nothing at all
she can't see nothing, nothing at all
dialate, dialate
07 Get Your Gunn (03:18)
Goddamn your righteous hand
I eat innocent meat
The housewife I will beat
The prolife I will kill
What you won't do I will
I bash myself to sleep
What you sow I will reap
I scar myself you see
I wish I wasn't me
I am the little stick
You stir me into shit
I hate therefore I am
Goddamn your righteous hand
Goddamn ooh Lord, Goddamn ooh Lord
Goddamn ooh Lord, Goddamn ooh Lord
Pseudo-morals work real well
On the talk shows for the weak
But your Selective judgements and good guy badges
Don't mean a fuck to me
I throw a little fit
I slit my teenage wrist
The most that I can learn
Is in records that you burn
Get your gunn, get your gunn
Get your gunn, get your gunn
Pseudo-morals work real well
On the talk shows for the weak
But your selective judgements and good guy badges
Don't mean a fuck to me
Pseudo-morals work real well
On the talk shows for the weak
But your selective judgements and good guy badges
Don't mean a fuck to me
I am the VHS
Record me with your fist
You want me to save the world
I'm just a little girl
Pseudo-morals work real well
On the talk shows for the weak
But your selective judgements and good guy badges
Don't mean a fuck to me
Pseudo-morals work real well
On the talk shows for the weak
But your selective judgements and good guy badges
Don't mean a fuck to me
Get your gunn, get your gunn
Get your gunn, get your gunn...Get
08 Wrapped in Plastic (05:35)
guilt is a snake we beat with a rake
to grow in our kitchen in the pies we bake
feed it to us to squirm in our bellies
twisting our guts make our spines to jelly
stay, don't wanna go now
rob the children from their chores
handcrafted housewives into whores
fear of the beast is calling it near
creating what we're hating, it's only fear that is here
stay, don't wanna go now
come into our home, won't you stay
I know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic
come into our home, won't you stay
i know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic
I'm only as deep as the self that I dig
I'm only as sick as the stick in the pig
thin and so white, thin and so white
daddy tells the daughter
while mommy's sleeping at night
to wash away sin you must take off your skin
the righteous father wears the yellowest grin
don't wanna go now
stay, don't wanna go now
stay, don't wanna go now
come into our home, won't you stay
I know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic
11 Snake Eyes and Sissies (04:07)
wrench is just a household god but I carry mine with pride
I don't work but I can work with it to split your smile
run you down without a twitch, your car's just not as big as mine
tear the son out of your bitch and sprinkle your remains with lime
I ain't no workin man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
rollin sixes
I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
my afternoon's remote control
daydream milk and genocide
tranquility with broken knees, silly putty enemies
butter knife in your side
what I got I got for free, middle finger technology
what's yours is mine, yours is mine, told you fucker, yours is mine
snake eyes for sissies
I ain't no workin man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
rollin sixes
I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
I am the pedophile's dream
a messianic peter pan
just a boy, just a boy, just a little fucking boy
I can never be a man
I ain't no workin man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
rollin sixes
I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
I ain't no workin man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
(oh no, oh no)
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