Modern rock these days is stuck in an impasse due to what can only be called Big Brother Syndrome, which in essence is an updated strain of 1995's "My So-Called Life" Disease. Much as 7 Mary Three did five years ago, bands like 3 Doors Down and Papa Roach give an insider's look at teenage angst that's so literal, it's about as much fun as being young and angry itself. No matter how much your life sucks, someone on TV or the radio going through the same boring motions as you are just isn't entertainment. Love 'em or loathe 'em, it's always been sweeps week on Channel Manson, and boy, did we ever need them back.
It figures that a band hailing from dystopias past and present, L.A. and Florida, is looking for escapism at this point. Marilyn Manson gets back in the goth trenches to conjuring up a surreal anti-Americana on "Holy Wood (In The Shadow Of The Valley Of Death)." Most misfits can relate to being a "Disposable Teen" or "a slave to a god that don't exist," but no matter how earthbound the topics are, the band's pulpy theatrics and ultra-paranoia shine through. Much like Black Sabbath or Pink Floyd, Marilyn Manson realizes that hyperbolic fantasies of iron men and dark sides of the moon beat the pants off those of sad-sack losers and broken homes as empowerment for the outcast.
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1998's "Mechanical Animals" put the guys in a position even they weren't used to, one of critical acclaim and commercial success. Marilyn's a smart guy, and it shows; "Holy Wood" is a return to "Antichrist'"s goth-shock-metal, Christian-baiting cover art and a track listing that seems to require a libretto. And I offer a shiny nickel to whoever can name two real differences between "The Beautiful People" and their new single, "Disposable Teens."
The fact that the band's songwriting has improved goes without saying. Gone are the days when they would make empty button-pushers like "Cake And Sodomy" simply to have a song with that title. It still ain't Shakespeare, but Marilyn Manson's lyrics have evolved from the simple anti-establishment bumper stickers they used to be. Sure, he is still guilty of buzz-word rhyming like "distortion" and "abortion" and hammy sloganeering ("Cruci-Fiction In Space"). This time around, though, the rants are more multi-layered, the invective more specific and the personal insight more interesting. Even when the volume gets turned down on "Lamb Of God" or the other Floyd-ian plot movers, the results are eerily moving.
"Holy Wood'"s concept is about as coherent as a typical Manson video, but if you really gave a damn, you'd probably rather be reading his book than this review. The real question here is whether or not Manson rocks, the answer being an emphatic yes. The band pays tribute to its freaky forerunners like David Bowie and Alice Cooper, but does so more in spirit than in sound. Boys this pale shouldn't be grooving so much, but "Disposable Teens" and "President Dead" swagger with the cocky attitude of '70s glam-rock. "The Love Song," of course, is a misnomer, as is their potential hit, "The Fight Song," which sounds like the evil twin of Blur's "Song 2."
"Holy Wood" could outsell Thriller or push five copies, but as long as someone hates it, Manson will feel his job is done. Mission accomplished (Wal-Mart has banned the artwork), but with one caveat: It's becoming a lot harder to dismiss the music.
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