Marilyn Manson battles the world (again) in ‘Holywood’

loading...

Editor’s Note: In Sound Advice, the first Thursday of every month, veteran NEWS entertainment writer Dale McGarrigle reviews new rock, pop, alternative, country, folk or blues albums. Different NEWS writers contribute reviews from other musical genres.

“HOLYWOOD (In the Shadow of the Valley of Death)” (Nothing Records) – Marilyn Manson

Revealing androgynous concert apparel and taboo stage antics aside, Marilyn Manson may never run out of emotional angst when engaging society’s ills.

As the band’s six major release, “Holywood” is a 70-minute message divided into two movements: 12 tracks of a mellow and sometimes acoustic inspection of the short-selling of today’s youth; and seven cuts of a somewhat pounding and hard-core assault on the entertainment industry’s lust for profit over substance.

Fittingly, vocalist Marilyn Manson follows the same basic songwriting formula of previous albums with his “This is what I hate and why” lyrics, which include targets such as the government, the NRA and pop culture.

“Disposable Teens,” Manson’s ode on the low value placed on today’s youth, bears an eerie bass-thumping resemblance to “Beautiful People,” the first single from the band’s 1996 release, “Antichrist Superstar.” However, the band continues to explore new musical outlets, whether through electric harpsichords on “The Nobodies,” or guitarist John 5’s retro-glam melody styles on “The Death Song.”

Later in the album, “Born Again” encapsulates the classic Manson touch of albums past with its grinding guitars and voice-cracking shrieks. Now that’s anger.

“Burning Flag” showcases the make-your-ears-bleed drum and bass rhythms Manson fans have come to expect, complete with distortion box vocals.

And with the rising popularity of multimedia features on music CDs, it comes as no surprise that “Holywood” contains a Mansonesque extra. Pop it in a computer and you’ll see, in the absence of sound, the medical extraction of a brain from a cadaver. While certainly morbid, it’s frosting on the cake for “Holywood,” as the band takes one last punch leaving the message, “If society won’t let me think for myself, why do I need my mind anyway?” Over the top, but effective. (By Anthony Saucier)

“Because We Hate You” (Malt/Mammoth) – The Young Fresh Fellows

“Let The War Against Music Begin” (Malt/Mammoth) – The Minus 5

Scott McCaughey isn’t busy enough being a multi-instrumentalist for R.E.M. So he’s got two musical side projects going. To top that off, both of those groups will release albums (Why? Only McCaughey knows.) and tour this year.

What do the two albums have in common besides McCaughey? Exquisite pop craftsmanship, a tongue-in-cheek sensibility and unrivaled listenability.

The Young Fresh Fellows, which actually dates to 1985, includes McCaughey, Tad Hutchinson, Jim Sangster and Kurt Bloch. “Because We Hate You” is tasty, sarcastic new wave a la Joe Jackson or Elvis Costello, the kind of music made before the flannel curtain smothered rock in a blanket of grunge.

The Minus 5 is an all-star lineup, which includes McCaughey’s bandmate Peter Buck, Barrett Martin (Screaming Trees), Jon Auer (Posies), Robyn Hitchcock, Dennis Diken (Smithereens) and Steve Berlin (Los Lobos). “Let the War against Music Begin” is a tuneful snapshot of the best parts of ’60s pop, without sounding derivative.

Which one is better? It doesn’t matter, since Mammoth Records will release a double CD featuring both albums in late February. So listeners will get to enjoy the best of both worlds.

“Everything and Nothing” (EMD/Virgin) – David Sylvian

Just holding this CD in my hand makes my heart stumble, much as it would were I holding a shard of the sky.

But that’s the effect David Sylvian has always had on me. Sylvian was never of this realm. Just the mention of the name when I was younger would prompt the earnest nodding of heads. Sylvian. Ahhh. Hmmmm. It wasn’t that I was in awe of him as a musician, or a writer of songs that would haunt me through the wakeful dark. He was way above such prosaic things as being a beauty production line. Much like a more vaporous Brian Eno, a more ethereal Bowie, Sylvian was really not, in my eyes, obliged to actually create anything. The fact that he orbited our leaden sphere was enough.

So it always leaves me a little disoriented to actually have to listen to any of his music. Stuffed inside my cave, I watch the Platonic shadows of Sylvian’s music follow their foggy lines, wonder at the mohair envelope of his voice, and wake with those words running through my head – “Sylvian. Aaaah.”

As for the CD itself, well, it’s defiantly not a greatest hits compilation. Then again, I’m not sure I remember Sylvian or his prior band, Japan, having too many hits – certainly not enough to span a two-CD set. So what we get is an eclectic mix of remixes, old stuff, new stuff, and songs never before released, knit together into a broad overview of Sylvian’s 20-plus-year career. It is an exquisite document. And while his music may never quite achieve the heights that one feels are demanded of it, it comes damn close sometimes. Anyway, Icarus will tell you of the dangers of flying too high. (By Adam Corrigan)

“Shiver” (Mercury) – Jamie O’Neal

A few years after Sherrie Austin made a splash in Nashville, another pretty young Aussie immigrant is gaining a name for herself in country music.

Her haunting “There is No Arizona” has already been embraced by country radio. Yet, like Austin, Jamie O’Neal is a veteran performer, and that is evident on her sparkling debut album.

The first child of professional musicians, O’Neal grew up on stage, performing from the age of 8. She honed her chops as a demo singer, a backup vocalist and a songwriter (for LeAnn Rimes and Chely Wright among others). She’s more polished than many singers her age.

Having herself as her chief songwriter (nine of the 13 cuts on the album) gave the unknown O’Neal access to strong material. Having veteran performer Keith Stegall in her corner allowed her to get her album recorded (and recorded right).

O’Neal is definitely country with a pop sensibility (Who else could pull off a Richard Marx cover?). But that’s pop in a good, golden-oldies way, not in prepackaged boy-band sense. In her tales of love and longing, she shows a rueful wisdom far beyond her years.

O’Neal and her throaty, powerful voice deserve to stand out from the pack in Nashville, although that’s a weighty challenge in the crowded Music City. Still, “Shiver” is a portent of good things to come from the blonde Aussie.