Interview:1994/07 U.S. Rocker: MARILYN MANSON
MARILYN MANSON | ||
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Interview with Marilyn Manson | ||
Date | July, 1994 | |
Source | U.S. Rocker Vol. 5, #8 | |
Interviewer | Anastasia Pantsios |
- The swampland's finest mindfuck. Anastasia Pantsios talks with Mr. Manson himself.
Florida's a land of contradictions. It's marketed as this sun-and-fun paradise of beaches and warm weather, but then there's the litany of negatives: dangerous alligator-filled swamps, drug-running, freeway violence, rinky-dink t-shirt shops, miles of pre-fab urban sprawl, extremely large insects. It's like the smile on a suicide's face.
Maybe that's why Florida produces the bands it does. Other than Gloria Estevan and the dance music scene, both products of the state's Latin/American community, it seems like weird and warped little bands are Florida's gift to the music world. Look at the whole deathmetal scene that sprang from there a few years ago, which included some of the genre's most extreme examples, including the masters of wordless terror. Obituary, and one of the very few bands to actually promote Satan worship, Deicide. Then there's the Genitorturers, who work a lotta S & M and a little body-piercing into their screechingly abrasive heavy metal.
And now there's Marilyn Manson, formerly Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids, fronted by a flamboyantly theatrical gentleman who, in the fashion of Alice Cooper, with whom he's often compared, calls himself Marilyn Manson (not his real name).
"Hello from the gutters of Fort Lauderhell, which are filled with piss, disease and broken toys. Hello from Marilyn Manson," he invitingly begins in a form letter sent out to journalists to introduce the band and their upcoming debut release for Nothing/Interscope Records, PORTRAIT OF AN AMERICAN FAMILY. "I am writing on behalf of my band," he continues, "who has adopted my namesake as a mockery of your fixation with the grandiose "stars" that litter your television screens daily. I am the "All-American" anti-Christ bathed in talk show trash."
If that sounds like the band is aiming to shock and to shake things up, you'd be correct. But Manson isn't just trying to provoke, he's trying to thought-provoke as well. Marilyn Manson isn't just a slap-dash creation of a bunch of vaguely disgruntled metalheads hell-bent to annoy.
The band DOES have metal roots; comparisons to Alice Cooper are well taken. There's a kinship to that band in the sharply chiseled riffs, the hyper but infectious melodies, the taunting theatrics and the exaggerated appearance of the performers. There's especially an echo of Cooper in the sinister, sneering, sarcastic bite of Manson's vocals. And Manson doesn't reject those comparisons. "If there's a similarity. I take it as a compliment. We're extreme in the same spirit."
If there are similarities, still there are differences. Manson's music is an expression of his complex theories of morality and how it operates in society. His scenarios are more terrifying for being more reality-based and less rooted in fantasy than Cooper's. The catchy, foot-stomping music propels lyrics obsessed with sex, violence, evil and fear and how they interact. He refers to the band's approach as "transmoral surrealism - crossing the boundaries of wrong and right." "Goddamn your righteous hand," he hisses at the opening of "Get Your Gunn," as a pumping guitar riff, worthy of Cooper or even AC/DC kicks in behind him. But the music as well as the lyrics go beyond that fun-house horror old style metal already covered by Cooper (as WASP and Twisted Sister). Jarring, electronic industrial buzz wrenches the core riffs into even uglier shape, thanks to the input of Nine Inch Nails' main man Trent Reznor, who signed the band to his own label, Nothing Records (they'll be the first non-NIN band on the label when their album hits the streets this month). Reznor, the man who gave industrial music a personal face and crossed it over to the mainstream, isn't likely to take much interest in a band that recycles old metal riffs; his contribution to helping the band rethink and recast old ideas is especially evident in his powerhouse remix of "Get Your Gunn" entitled "Mother Inferior Got Her Gunn".
Marilyn Manson was a concept long before it was a band. The band simply became the expression of ideas that Manson himself had been developing years before when he was working as a writer and a music journalist. "Marilyn Manson was initially a test for me, an experiment," he says. "What would it be like to be on the other side? I had the name before I started the band. I had the lyrics lying around. I'd never planned on being in a band or being a singer. Then I met a guitarist ('Daisy Berkowitz', he's now called) who understood what I was trying to do. And that was the start of Marilyn Manson."
The basic concept of the band involves playing off ideas of good and evil, positive and negative, confusing and merging the two. Hence the names: the other band members are called Twiggy Ramirez (bass), Madonna Wayne Gacy (keyboards) and Sara Lee Lucas (drums).
"I'm fascinated by people's fascination with serial killers," Manson says. "Marilyn Manson is obviously not my real name. It helps me prove a point. If America hadn't glamorized serial killers to the point of the women we took our first names from, it would be just words. People say, why are you glamorizing serial killers? I say - I'm not, you are, by bringing it up."
"I think it's interesting that people are fascinated with death. I think it's because we're afraid of it. It's like a carnival ride. The sign that says "Marilyn Manson" makes you want to ride it. Someone once said to me, you're like a carnival barker and that's true. We are like a freak show. We pull back the curtain on the mirror so you can see yourself."
"I'm also fascinated by how serial killers relate to pop stars. I find that I can relate to the attitude of a serial killer. They're both saying to people, 'I'll show you someday'."
Manson's interest in shaking up people's ideas of good and evil began back in Canton, Ohio where he lived until he graduated from high school. Until the 10th grade, he attended the Heritage Christian School there, where he emphatically did NOT fit in. He questioned too many things that students were expected to accept on faith: doing your own thinking later became a cornerstone of THE Marilyn Manson experience.
He recalls how his teachers would talk about bands such as Alice Cooper, Black Oak Arkansas, ELO and Queen as examples of what they should steer clear of; they even displayed the cover of Black Sabbath's SABBATH BLOODY SABBATH. Instead of being repelled, Manson was intrigued.
The forced feeding of Christianity, however, aggravated him. ("They even worked Christianity into math - 'How many nails were used to crucify Jesus?"). Finally, this forced a confrontation and got him kicked out.
Yet Manson's disenchantment with Christian morality didn't come, as might be expected, within the larger context of estrangement from his family and his upbringing. His parents were actually understanding ("All my parents wanted was for me to get a better education than in public school. It did more damage, but I'm not sorry. It taught me a lot.") and supportive of his career choice ("They see that I enjoy it and that's what they want for me, to be happy"). Their main reservation was the usual practical one: "They didn't think there was any future in this."
"I had a good upbringing where I didn't need to rebel or get fucked up," he says. "Part of the message I'm trying to put out is that parents need to raise kids with more ability to think for themselves rather than doing their thinking for them. If parents didn't tell kids things like 'don't be gay because it's a sin,' or 'don't have sex because it's wrong', if they told them the straight truth, maybe kids could learn to think for themselves. But I see things as kids do. I don't want to grow up. I'm a satanic Peter Pan. When you're a kid, dreams mean something, wishes mean something. There's a power and a beauty in that. I can see beauty in the words of Charles Manson. But I can see ugliness in things that are supposed to be pure. That's the dichotomy we're trying to put across."
Once Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids were together, they started playing out in southern Florida, with its cover-band dominated circuit. Manson claims that his band opened club doors for other alternative bands in their home region. In any case, they soon made a name for themselves there.
Meanwhile, Manson had met Trent Reznor while he was a music journalist, and "for whatever reason, he stayed in touch. I guess we really WERE friends. He told me he was going to have this label where artists would not get fucked over."
And when Marilyn Manson was ready, Reznor came through for them, helping them to shape their sound and get it over to the public.
"He's the one person in the industry I can totally trust," Manson says of Reznor.
Manson, has encountered some road blocks on the path to getting their music out to the public. "A lot of labels didn't have faith in what we were doing or they were afraid to stand behind it. As much as you may think controversy makes money, labels ARE afraid."
Even Interscope, who distribute Nothing, initially balked at handling the Marilyn Manson release. "They thought the tone was a little too severe."
They were even rejected by a couple of producers they were interested in - Gil Norton of Pixies fame, and Stephen Hagler. "Two producers I respect. They said they didn't want to be involved with the subject matter we deal with."
Although Manson stated "We didn't want to write hits - I almost felt obligated to deal with explicit subject matter to ensure it wouldn't be a hit." Songs like "Get Your Gunn" and "Lunch Box" have the kind of metallically catchy hooks that get young boys playing air guitar in junior high school is clearly what this band intends. And they do piss off the parents. "For one show, we had a rubber stamp made up with "666". Someone called up (the band hotline) and was just completely infuriated. They didn't even care that their kid was in a bar that served alcohol. They're selective about what upsets them."
As proteges of Trent Reznor and as the opening act on the recent NIN spring tour. Marilyn Manson was handed the opportunity to infiltrate another audience, one that might not be initially receptive to the band's metal-derived music. Indeed, when Manson played in front of NIN at the Cleveland Agora in April, the adolescent gloom-and-doom crowd, into the stylized industrial clamor of NIN, appeared a little confused by the more rock-oriented confrontationalism of Marilyn Manson.
"I think people didn't know what to expect," he contesses. "We ARE more of a rock band. But there's an aggression factor there that I think their fans can relate to. The BROKEN EP was a heavy guitar-oriented record. It opens a door for us - just the fact that people who are into NIN might start to look at us because of Trent's involvement."
"He's coming from a different place than I am. But we can relate. We both came from Ohio. And Ohio was a miserable place - everyone feels like they're trapped or doomed!"
Scans[edit]
Credit: DirectorNo5819