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Anti*Pop Festival in Downtown Orlando 11.7 – 11.11.2007

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Dec 032007
 

Well it;s another year and we witnessed another stellar Anti-Pop Festival. As with previous APF’s, I was mildly aware of most of the performers and scratching my head in simian confusion over others. Again I was completely blown away by the artists and performances. This festival is truly becoming something special. More than an aggregation of similar identities, it’s a wide and varied showcase of true underground talent with amazing performances night to night and all the bands bringing it – almost in attempts to not be outdone. This atmosphere is a veritable cauldron of stewing talent, bubbling and brimming with attitude, vibe and excellent shows.

Anti-Pop Past has a rich history to uphold with past mind blowers that include; Kasabian, Brit-poppers who are stadium headliners in the U.K rocked the Social despite the sardine can conditions inside, Saul Williams, known for spoken word, devastated a packed audience with a scathing hip-hop show, and The Elected which combined Blake Sennet’s powerful songwriting and intensity in a performance that made me buy Sun, Sun, Sun the next day.

This year, the festival had its work cut out for it. I started making the rounds on Wednesday evening, beginning at The Social to check out Jim Fairchild (Grandaddy) and David Bazan (Pedro the Lion). JF’s show was an intimate acoustic gig sans the spacey flourishes Grandaddy is known for. As for Bazan, I’m just surprised at how many people are crazy about PtL.

Next at AKA Lounge, Daedelus, named after Icharus;s more sensible brother, put on an awesome show looking dapper in a white blazer. Busdriver’s intensity was reined in by maybe the worst soundboard execution my ears ever witnessed.

Thursday evening brought The Bravery to Firestone and I could hardly breathe because they stunk up the joint. Sometimes great songs can be juiced by stripped down, rocked out versions but it only emphasized The Bravery’s lack of skill. Still, it was nice to have such a big name that early in the week.

The ghost of Johnny Cash

The ghost of Johnny Cash

Next I scurried down Orange Avenue to catch Unknown Hinson. Personally anyone with mutton chops (they looked to be fake which was disheartening), a pompadour, black suit, a Fender Strat in one hand and a snub nose .38 Special in the other is more than OK on my book! I was let down because he wasn’t quite as creepy as I expected but elated to find he was a true shredder with the gee-tar doing most of the talkin’.

I was anticipating Friday all week. Spoon impressed me with a wonderful set. Their glossy, well written pop was recreated nicely for an eager crowd. My one gripe is I hate when newcomers to Orlando say, “you guys are really cool‚” like they’re surprised we are not all wearing Mickey ears. Yeah, no shit Spoon.

Now I faced the biggest dilemma of the entire festival. Aesop Rock and MC Chris at midnight on opposite sides of downtown and the Tennessee 3 smack dab in the middle behind The Lodge at 12:15. Just like a real festival, the artists understand the problem and also want to be heard and stagger the performances; so as I make my way to Aesop at 11:45 he is already playing. I get in check out a few songs and vibe off the crowds intensity. Five songs in I hear “None Shall Pass‚” and beeline to MC Chris. As I move down Orange I hear music ringing off the buildings and down the avenue from every direction. This year the shows are contained to downtown Orlando lending it a more festival-like feel.

MC Chris is a complete surprise and has the AKA packed wall to wall, front to back and side to side. Everyone knows the lyrics. Crowd participation is some of the best I have seen and at one point Chris has the entire audience doing the robot on command.

I shoot out of Chris and down Court St. behind Wall Street. I see the Tennessee 3 in a semi-circle around the drum set then I notice Fighting Records man and organizer of Anti-Pop, John Youngman. He is sliding in the rear entrance as the band starts the opening lines of “Folsom Prison Blues.” “Hey can I come with you,” I shriek. I do not want to miss any of the show. I sneak in, and man I tell you, I have seen some shows my friends, but that night in the alley behind The Lodge was magical. From song to song I can’t wipe this stupid grin off my face. “Ring of Fire,” “Orange Blossom Special,” “Ghostriders in the Sky,” “Walk the Line,” “Five Feet High and Rising,” and so much more played with its original grit and Bob Wooten’s uncanny guttural mimic of Cash. To those who witnessed the show, we could close our eyes and be visited by Johnny’s ghost; it was spiritual. It was fitting to have the History Center as a back drop as everything we know about rock n roll originated with the guys on stage. Stories of playing with Elvis and Carl Perkins and walking into Sam Phillips recording studio with Cash supplemented the sublime music. Wooten’s wife explained that he is responsible for the “boom-chicka-boom” guitar riff that makes the Cash sound. Once while Wooten’s amp blew, she entertained the crowd with a solo “Hurt” (of NIN fame). Awesome! W.S Holland, Cash’s drummer for over 40 years and 70+ years old dropped a wicked drum solo! I walked away awed and glad as I was able to witness that.

Saturday Explosions in the Sky took a break from touring with the Smashing Pumpkins to fill up Firestone and play a mesmerizing set that sometimes sounded like one long song. Soliloquists of Sound headlined the Social and put on a great show. They have really come together to be a solid act with solid music, not just a guy going apeshit on a beat machine. Craig Wedren of Shudder to Think played his graceful set to an alarmingly small crowd.

Despite all that rock there were still bands I regret not seeing. The Stills, Black Moth Super Rainbow, Summerbirds (got there too late), Spacebar, my friend Thomas Wynn and his Believers, Jacksonville’s Black Kids, and IAMX were all missed. Again like a true festival, the glorious conundrum of too much great music too see and too little time.

This festival rivals and should be true competition to others. I really look forward to the time between Halloween and Thanksgiving for the great weather and the emergence of the Anti-Pop lineup. I believe John Youngman will have streets and Performing Arts Centers named after him 20 years from now for his labor of love which bestows such culture and art and action on our starving little city.

Article originally appeared in REAX #20, January 3 2007

Orlando’s Soliloquists of Sound at The Social

Anti*Pop Festival 2007 Video

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Nov 182007
 

The Tennessee 3 “Walk the Line” and “Orange Blossom Special”

The Tennessee 3 “Ghost Riders in the Sky”

The Tennessee 3 “Folsam Prison Blues” behind The Lodge

The Tennessee 3 “I was There When it Happened” and “Luther Did the Boogie Woogie”

Aesop Rock¬† “None Shall Pass” The Social Pavillion

Spoon “The Underdog” at Firestone

MC Chris at a packed AKA Lounge

Smashing Pumpkins – Zeitgeist

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Nov 182007
 

The Pumpkins are back! Billy Corgan and Jimmy Chamberlin rose from the ashes of their former selves and put together an incredible rock album that gets better with every listen.

Billy and Jimmy is all you need

If it's white hot soul you want ...

The release of Zeitgeist follows a unique marketing build-up and blitz designed to restore interest in a 7-year defunct band and reward long-time fans with a hands-on almost jam band network. First, the release of a full page ad/ plea from Billy in the Chicago Tribune declaring their resurrection, then a home page on their website that slowly leaked information about the band; They’re in the studio recording, the new line-up, the album name, album release date, the release of the first single, “Tarantula,” album cover art, the announcement of their return show at Le Grand Rex in Paris. Coinciding with the return show is the release of their interactive, fan content-driven website. They followed the Paris show with a series of festivals throughout Europe and came home to hold two historic residencies. The first is nine sold-out shows at The Orange Peel in Asheville, North Carolina and then thirteen sold-out shows in San Francisco’s famous Filmore. In between the residencies the band managed to play Live Earth, bookend Late Night with David Letterman the Monday and Friday of the week Zeitgeist was released, and play a monstrous CD release show in D.C. Impressive.

The hype begins to pay off. Demand from radio for “Tarantula” is so great the song must be released early to prevent ripping. “Doomsday Clock” the first track on the album makes it onto the Transformers soundtrack. Finally, the release of Zeitgeist, five versions to be exact. Depending on where the album is purchased (Targé, iTunes, etc.) it will be a different color, each having different bonus tracks.

Now, is Zeitgeist worth it? One word: Hell Yeah! The thunderous drum intro on “Doomsday Clock” surges Zeitgeist out of the starting gate. A searing wall of guitar soon follows adding fury and power to Billy’s dire predictions.

“7 Shades of Black” continues driving the revamped Pumpkin assault. One that is closer to their live sound than previous recordings with a raw and direct attack (The continuous rolling flood of drums throughout the 10 minute “United States” was recorded in one take). At the same time, it’s still Billy, for every moment it seems like two rock titans jamming in a garage, (Billy and Jimmy recorded everything, much like all the previous work) there are meticulous flashes and flurries of intense guitar production: layers of notes adrift on waves of distortion and delay.

“Bleeding the Orchid,” on first listen, was where the album lost steam. I noted complaints by friends and on message boards about production values and Billy’s voice being too far out in front and “Bleeding” showcased this but with more listens the song grew. The architecture shone through as well crafted and Billy’s voice, although unnaturally clear, seems tame and even huskier with age. Then, “That’s the Way (My Love Is)” delivers a sweet groovin’ Zwan revisit.

On lyrical merit alone, Billy is back as strong as ever. The great thing about SP songs is when one actually takes the time to read the lyrics, they realize what they were singing is not at all what he was saying. “Tarantula”, a brutal, unforgiving four minute rock song with Pumpkin dazzle and a quick tease of their old heavy/slow/heavy formula (and several guitar solos ‚Äì Sweet) is a call to fans and critics of their arrival as well as a castigation of former band mates for pissing on their parade. I bet you didn‚Äôt know the last line of that song is, ‚ÄúIf it‚Äôs white hot soul they want/ A black heart they‚Äôll get‚Äù ‚Äì I love that shit!

Furthermore, this album takes on seemingly spiritual and political messages throughout, opposed to earlier more self-absorbed themes. I feel a coming age/ I feel a dawn in me/ A certain sun keeps risin’/ On my beliefs/ In You, Billy croons on “That’s the Way” Рwhat seems like a rockin’ love song Рand in United States he howls “Freedom shines the light ahead/ I’ll lead the last charge to bed/ I said my last rites/ I don’t have to run scared no more/ Fight/ I wanna fight.

Songs like “United States,” “Doomsday Clock,” and “For God and Country” portray Billy’s love of the ole U.S. of A as well as fear for where it’s heading. This is something – I firmly believe Рculled directly from Billy’s watching of a viral internet movie called “Zeitgeist” and trying to direct the public’s attention towards it.

Many “fans” are complaining about the absence of James and D’arcy. Come on! This means they never listened to the music beyond watching videos and reading CD jackets. The music is all Billy and Jimmy. James Iha didn’t even come into his own as a solid tonal manipulator and soloist until the last tour and his few songs are cute, but embarrassing when held up to the rest of the catalog. In the end, all those two did was complain that the band rocked too hard and Billy, the guy who brought them this fame and acclaim, is a jerk – Get lost. If the shows in Asheville are any indication of the new band Р3+ hours of pummeling rock that, at times, overwhelmed the crowd and the venue, then godspeed little Pumpkins.

Zeitgeist is produced almost entirely by Corgan and Chamberlin.  Terry Date (Soundgarden, Pantera) assisted on a few numbers, the charged “Come on Let’s Go,” and “That’s the Way…” as well as Roy Thomas Baker (Queen) on two of the record’s highlights “Starz,” and “Bring the Light.”

The guitar is classic Pumpkins without sounding retread, the drums are Jimmy’s standard all-out assault of precision and fury that drives the music like an engine without running over it, and the lyrics, sublime, even changing how you feel about songs you think you dislike. In the end they crafted another excellent rock album that sounds like the Pumpkins, yet unlike any preceding albums, and it is miles above the “competition.” What more do you want, Nickelback?

“Doomsday Clock” and “Lucky 13″ recorded at The Fox Theatre in Atlanta 11.16.2007

Queens of the Stone Age at HOB, Orlando 9.19.2007 and The Tabernacle, Atlanta 9.22.2007

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Sep 252007
 
Sick Sick Sick!

Sick Sick Sick!

Queens of the Stone Age descended upon the House of Blues in Orlando and promptly blew the doors off the joint. They kicked off the show with a track from Era Vulgaris, the punky “Battery Acid.” Their gritty, grinding sound translates so well to the live experience that they seem to coast between monster crowd pleasers with crushing force. Next, Josh Homme, beneath a canopy of gothic chandeliers with fiber optic lighting, declared, “I just wanna dance” and slid into “Little Sister” (more cowbell!). The show consisted of a large dose of the new album with a handful of songs from 05′s Lullabies to Paralyze with “Medication” a viscous little bopper being a surprising highlight. They left out a good portion of Rated R. No “Lost Art of Keeping a Secret,” no ‚”Leg of Lamb,” or “Feel Good Hit of the Summer,” but tore the ass out of  “I Think I Lost My Headache.”

QOTSA thankfully didn’t forget their roots and sprinkled in a healthy dose of songs from the first album; “Avon‚” “Mexicola” and an extendo-metal-jam of  “Regular John” and “You Can’t Quit Me Baby.” Era’s first single, “Sick, Sick, Sick” proved to be just that, completely sick. The band is super tight and Troy van Leeuwen and Josh intertwine and call/respond guitar riffs with elegant ferocity.

Although Joey Castillo is a powerful drummer and an excellent fit for QOTSA, I can’t help to think that Dave Grohl should quit his day job and elevate QOTSA even higher and relegate the Foo Fighters to their true domain, a great side project.

The show was a rousing display of rock fury and the 80 capacity crowd ate it up. I was on the Loge dining on pate (hot dogs) and champale (Stella) and could actually see the show‚ Yay! I must say they may have sounded better here, but at The Tabernacle in Atlanta it was a full-on party replete with chicks in the audience dancing on seats, bars, tables and an alarming number of people vomiting from various degrees of inebriation. Next, I continued the party QOTSA style by dropping my rent money at the Cheetah. Long Live Rock! In Atlanta they played 7 or 8 songs different from the Orlando set. “I Wanna Make It Witchu” and “Suture Up Your Future” were a couple of different tracks and the setlist was in a completely different order – no cookie cutters here my friend. They closed both shows with crushing, face-melting jam-outs of  “Song for the Dead” and I was glad to be alive.

Article originally appeared in REAX #18, April 8 2008

“Sick Sick Sick” from The Tabernacle ATL, GA

The Black Crowes at the House of Blues 8.24.2007

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Sep 152007
 
The Black Crowes at Langerado Festival 2006

The Black Crowes at Langerado Festival 2006 w/ Marc Ford

It can be argued that The Black Crowes are the greatest American rock band of the past 20 years. The band emerged from the imploding vortex of hair metal’s fizzled star with timeless, straight-up rock n roll. They stood their ground as grunge surged and eventually dissipated, then held hands with alternative and jam all the way to indie’s door. Knock Knock! Who’s There? Rock and Roll bitch!!

The Black Crowes are basking in their granddaddy status, comfortable to do as they please. Toying effortlessly with a grab bag of extremely popular songs, they make bands like Gov’t Mule and Widespread seem so boring (There has to be at least one hippy that dropped his glass piece and blew granola nuggets in his hemp shorts just now). The Crowes reward fans with long, masterful explorations of melody and theme with grandiose bridges back into songs that are actually great on their own merit ‚ all while rocking. Performing is not just an excuse to practice in your town and noodle your face off, but a great rock band serving up an order of blues boogie-woogie with extra southern gravy.

That said, the Crowes waltzed into the H.O.B. to bestow some of their majesty upon us. As I moved through the crowd during the opener, Amorica’s “Wiser Times‚” I noticed they sounded really good, but not as smooth and masterful as expected. Once I found a spot ‚a nearly impossible task in Orlando’s H.O.B. (not to get on a soap box but, isn’t it funny that it’s in Buena Vista and there is not a  “good view” in the house. If you are not on the Loge [not rich enough] or in the middle of the floor [not early or young enough], you either have a pillar or a drunk asshole in your face. Then you end up watching it on a monitor anyway. So if anyone preaches H.O.B’s superiority to the Hard Rock as a venue, punch them in the sternum). I realized that Eddie Harsch, bad ass piano man, and more importantly Marc Ford, guitar god, are absent from the line-up.

Marc Ford is such a vital part of the BC’s charisma. A virtuoso and prodigy, Ford’s guitar work with Steve Gorman’s Gonzo-ish drumming, Rich’s melody and overlooked rhythm guitar mastery and Chris’s classic front man panache and golden pipes elevated the band from powerful southern rock to the sublime. They rock without Ford and Harsch, but fail to reach that graceful ethereal realm.

The Crowes play two kinds of shows now: three hour plus mega shows and two hour crowd pleasers with more singles, less jam. The H.O.B. show was the latter. They played solid versions of “Good Friday” and “Sting Me” and rollicked through extended workings of “Soul Singin’” and Southern Harmony’s “My Morning Song” without the mesmerizing ferocity of Marc Ford. No matter what, the BC’s are a great night. Hesitant to spend 50 bucks only a year and a half after seeing their monumental show at The Hard Rock and closing Langerado, I asked my best friend, “How many times can we hear “Sting Me?” He replied, “As many times as we can.” Three cheers for rock n roll.

Article originally appeared in REAX #17, September 15 2007

Gwar at The UCF Arena 7.10.2007

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Aug 152007
 

God, What an Awful Racket!

Youth-oriented shows start too early. Some of us (do the annoying finger-quote thing) ‚ “adults” who haven’t “grown up” yet, have “jobs” and “priorities” and can’t get to a show at 5 p.m. So when I stroll in at 8:30 p.m., Shadows Fall – the last band before the Scumdogs of the Universe – is wrapping up. Not that I missed anything, A) because the (old) UCF Arena may be the most sonically challenged venue on the planet and B) some of the special guests appearing on other legs of the tour like Testament and Suicidal Tendencies couldn’t make it to O-Town.

Deleted scenes from The Land of the Lost series

Deleted scenes from The Land of the Lost series

As GWAR’s cartoonish stage is being set-up, I mosey by a long line of all the bands merchandise. Table by table the artwork becomes more grotesque; each trying to outdo the other. My favorite: Necro’s octopus-zombie dining on a severed head. If I only had 20 bucks I could take care of Nanna’s birthday present. I will just wait for a sale at Penney’s. Next I notice several species flourishing which were thought extinct: the frizzy trailer mullet, next to something I thought would only be preserved in some prehistoric amber: the Motley Crue, “Girl Don’t go Away Mad” era mohawk-mullet cinched tightly in the back, shaved-head, ponytail thing. Finally, groupies, actual groupies! Beyond the barricades lurked sexy, dirty, stripper-types loitering backstage. God I miss metal.

The show did not seem as intense as it did when I was young. I guess 15 years of “real life” can even harden the heart of an old metal fan. But there were definitely highlights:

1. The slow evisceration of a fan.

2. Singer, Dave Brockie aka Oderus Urungus fornicating with a putrid dog carcass as it spewed blood and pus 30 feet into the crowd.

3. And the piece-de-resistance, a large character appears from backstage to an audio track blurting “Me no rikey American students, Korea numba one, me no rike you, fuck you G.I!” My feeble brain thought it may be Kim Jong Il. I was close, but reality is much, much worse. It’s a Korean alright. As the figure moves forward he reveals a Virginia Tech jersey while brandishing two 9mm pistols. GWAR urges UCF not to let a pussy-ass college in Virginia hold the mass murder record and counts aloud as Cho Seung-Hui shoots: 1,2,3, … 31,32,33 – yay!” Next, Oderus emerges with a large sword decapitating Cho and for the duration of the next number his beheaded carcass scurries around spraying blood into the stunned audience. Completely tactless, thoroughly insensitive, totally awesome!

Article originally appeared in REAX #16, August 15 2007


GWAR incites UCF crowd to cheer on Korean guy to break the West Virginia shooting record. Then they kill him. Notice the copious amounts of blood spraying from dancing, decapitated corpse for the duration.

Slayer and Marilyn Manson at Hi-Fi Buys Amphitheater in Atlanta 7.27.2007

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Jul 282007
 

There was a weird metal crowd with opposing agendas: Marilyn Manson fans and Slayer fans. Although they are metal (Slayer way more so) they represent opposite ends of the metal spectrum. Slayer from the shredding, in-your- face old school of metal and Manson on the Goth, Industrial side.

Slayer blew the place to pieces while Manson was coked-out and disinterested. He threw the mic down and walked off stage in a pout about an hour into it. I think Slayer fans were told by Manson fans that MM puts on a better show. Following the concert metal heads in an attempt to prove that Slayer was better were walking around and asking people, “Which one was better? Slayer or Manson?” or the abbreviated version, “Slayer or Manson?” And when someone answered, “Slayer” there were howls and high fives. Manson fans even reluctantly said Slayer with their heads hung in shame.

“Hell Awaits”

“Raining Blood”

“Mandatory Suicide”

“Drunky McGhee warms up the crowd”

“Love Song”

End of “Antichrist Superstar”

Smashing Pumpkins Videos from Asheville, N.C Residency 7.2, 7.3, 7.5.2007

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Jul 192007
 

The Smashing Pumpkin residency in Asheville, North Carolina at the Orange Peel was one of the most amazing musical experiences of my life. For a $20 ticket – if you could get one – fans were allowed in to watch soundchecks and hang out with (annoy) the band. Then 9 sold out shows spread out over the first 11 days of July were monster face-melters. 3 1/2 hour plus concerts jam-packed with all kinds of songs. These residencies were meant to break-in the new band – Jeff Schroeder, Ginger Reyes, and Lisa Harrington – and build the pool of songs they could pull from to over a 100. They fine-tuned newer songs, rearranged old songs, and wrote / played songs written during their stay. The band mingled freely with Ashevillians and fans throughout their stay, making themselves available. Local newspapers covered every aspect of the stay, stores offered “Pumpkin Specials,” while other stores were exclusive vendors of custom-collectable merchandise. Just about every person you saw had a “Pumpkin sighting” or story about a casual run-in with various members. The Pumpkins had a different local artist open the show each evening and followed with wildly varied set-lists of their own. Asheville, long known as a psychic center, became the center of the Pumpkin universe and created an energy that the band and the fans shared. This unique perspective is covered in their DVD documentary If All Goes Wrong as well as the sharp contrast to the subsequent residency experience in San Francisco.

“Rotten Apples” at The Orange Peel 7.3.2007

“Starla” at The Orange Peel 7.2.2007

Vicious version of “Silverfuck” at The Orange Peel 7.2.2007

“The Aeroplane Flies High” at The Orange Peel 7.2.2007

A 36 minute “Gossamer” from 7.3.2007

Queens of the Stone Age – Era Vulgaris

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Jul 172007
 
Bulby Approved!

Bulby Approved!

Josh Homme and his revolving cast of Queens of the Stone Age are back to usher in the Era Vulgaris. The album is an ode to the times, QOTSA style. Not a scathing reprimand of corrupt political bureaucracies or a morally devoid society, but an embrace of lifestyles only we can attain: cheap cigarettes, ample drugs, on demand porno, and bands like this being able to pursue their goals on their terms.

Era’s first track, ‚”Turnin’ on the Screw” sets the tone for the album. It blends previous styles from the spooky, spacey more produced sounds of Lullabies To Paralyze to the leaner, meaner sounds of the early days. The song’s bare-bones drums are soon accompanied by dirty swaggering guitars that sound loose, but in repetition come together in odd syncopation reminiscent of Rated R‘s “Leg of Lamb.” Then comes Homme’s 6′ 4″ falsetto, an unusual, but endearing quality.

The first single “Sick, Sick, Sick”delivers their patented vicious guitar assault, like a shiv to the gut in a prison cafeteria. In essence, the certain element of danger that left with Nick Oliveri is back.

What is dubbed as QOTSA’s “stoner rock‚” a label Josh hates, is a blend of music philosophies; the dark, heavy pounding Sabbath-like riffs with sprinkles of blues inspired ZZ Top jams. Then throw in some 80s sunset strip swagger, 90s “I don’t give a fuck” delivery, and there you have it. QOTSA takes a searing riff and repeats it almost ad-nauseum to the untrained ear. But, with every line or two a clever blues harmonic or subtle bending of a note is added to give the chords dynamics. This changes what may sound like a droning loop into a fierce chorus of six string beasts churning and breathing and coming to life.

Another favorite on the album is “Battery Acid.” The guitar is traditionally punk, then played at half speed, given the hypnotic, stoner treatment and recorded with a low-fi garage quality.

Queens retools “Make it Wit Chu” for Era. Originally a Desert Sessions recording, (one of Josh’s Half dozen side projects) the song retains the band’s theme of overt sexuality and mayhem while adding a slithering, sleazy lounge feel. The Desert Sessions recordings are fueled by drug binges that lead to trips into the desert for artists eager to work with Homme. Era is loaded with surprise party-buddies. Mainstay Mark Lanegan lends his gruff vocals, as does The Strokes Julian Casablancas and Trent Reznor.

Era Vulgaris is overwhelming guitar, crunchy bass, and simple, but effective, drums with enough balls for any metal fan. A playful, yet dark, sexuality makes them acceptable for the ladies too. Their music is as much at home on your car stereo as it is in a strip club or at a party.

Reviewer’s suggestion: give it a whirl on the headphones. Era Vulgaris is a summer must-have continuing the tradition of debauchery-filled Queens of the Stone Age music that you can fight or fuck to.

Article originally appeared in REAX #15, August 15 2007

QOTSA “Turnin’ on the Screw” – The Taberncale, Atlanta 9.22.2007

Marilyn Manson – Eat Me, Drink Me

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Jun 202007
 

Marilyn Manson returns this year with Eat Me Drink Me, an album long awaited by fat girls who cut themselves. Eat Me marks a transition for Manson into a more ambitious and musical phase of song composition and away from the Ministry meets The Exorcist post-industrial Glam/ Goth he championed.

Suck Me, Blow Me

Suck Me, Blow Me

Manson deserves credit for trying to take an image and sound he perfected and take it in a more mature direction. Once a performer eclipses 40 -Marilyn’s getting close- their penchant for macabre showmanship becomes camp (see Gene Simmons and Alice Cooper) maybe to be revisited again when they are truly creepy in their mid 70s. Something tells me MM isn’t going to make it that far. This time around he tempers his look a bit and gazes inward to produce an album with a contemporary rock feel and an exploration of emotion and relationships Manson style. Sure, dark imagery is still pervasive in songs like “Only a Car Crash Away” and “Mutilation is the Most Sincere Form of Flattery,” but on other tunes like “Heart-shaped Glasses” with its snappy intro, infectious melody, and atrocious chorus and “If I Was Your Vampire” Manson explores his version of new love, despair, and loss.

This is ambitious but I dig the dark, anthemic, arena sing-along Manson who spits venom at society and all its conventions. I want the demonic demagogue anti-hero that makes Middle America, the misinformed, and the religious right’s panties bunch and go straight up their collective asses. Some may say that MM’s voice and musical integrity may not be up to the task of tackling the more straightforward, stripped down sound. They might be right if Manson’s listless, coked-out amphitheatre shows with Slayer in Atlanta and Tampa are any indication.

It is hard for me to accept Manson as a  ”real” human and all the foibles and emotion that go with the condition, but I do accept the fact that he is an intelligent and relevant figure. To sum it up Dita von Teese broke Manson’s heart (Waaaa!) and Evan Rachel Wood saved him. I didn’t know the Antichrist Superstar was so sensitive.

This album is solely the work of Manson with multi-instrumentalist and producer Tim Skold of Shotgun Messiah (wow) and KMFDM. Skold, who played bass with MM after Twiggy’s departure is the mind behind the progressive riffs and hooks on this album as well as the guitar player on tour. Marilyn came to prominence with a post-industrial metal sound under the tutelage of Trent Reznor and now Tim Skold seems to be reviving and repackaging a mature MM in a more alternative rock, Cure meets Boris Karloff incarnation.

Basically, Manson was able to wrap up his feelings and emotional exploration in a well-crafted album that takes him in a new more musically solid direction with enough sinister lyrics and creepy Alice in Wonderland references to keep the trench coat mafia satisfied whilst leaving them teary-eyed. Come on. Give it up for a Florida boy.

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