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Archive for May, 2009
Marilyn Manson: The High End of Low
Posted in Music, Reviews with tags Antichrist Superstar, Arma-Goddamn-Motherfucking-Geddon, Cake and Sodomy, Get Your Gunn, I Want to Kill You Like They Do in the Movies, industrial metal, John 5, Marilyn Manson, shock rock, The Beautiful People, The High End of Low, The Spooky Kids, Twiggy Ramirez on May 29, 2009 by jnagle4
It is officially over for Marilyn Manson. The chinks in the armor have been appearing since guitarist John 5 left the band, but now they are huge gaping holes. The invincible boogie man who proclaimed himself the god of fuck is gone, and a middle-aged Goth is left in his wake.
On paper, The High End of Low looked promising. Manson reunited with Twiggy Ramirez, his best collaborator and a key member of the original band. The return of Twiggy seemed like it would be the shot in the arm that Manson needed after the heavy handed melodrama of Eat Me, Drink Me, but Manson is even more maudlin on The High End of Low. Part of the problem is the genre itself. Shock rock has a very limited shelf life, because once the shock wears off it gets redundant. For a while, Manson seemed like he would be able to break that trend. The industrial darkness of Antichrist Superstar was completely different than the cartoonish horror of Portrait of an American Family, which was completely different from the paranoid glitter rock of Mechanical Animals.
Ever since 2000’s Holy Wood, Manson has backslid to the industrial hard rock of Antichrist with diminishing returns. High End is the least satisfying of Manson’s records. There is not a single memorable riff or bass line. No hooks. Each song bleeds in and out in a placid jumble of buzzing guitars and synthesizers. Manson’s voice was once distinctive and terrifying, and now it’s a parody of itself. He warbles in the same monotone, but occasionally lets out a guttural scream. The formula is repeated exactly 15 times, and it never changes. The key to Manson’s success was always the meticulous care he put into the art and storyline of a record. Now it’s like he doesn’t even care anymore.
The High End of Low deals with Manson’s broken heart. Despite hooking up with Evan Rachel Wood, he’s still trying to get over Dita Von Teese. The lyrics are even more dramatic than last time. Manson puts his heart on his sleeve with ridiculous imagery like a carousel with “four rusted horses strangled by their own rope.” Manson’s lyrics have always been outrageous, but the difference between this and an earlier song like “Cake and Sodomy” is that the early Manson was bulletproof. He was a throwback to the invincible rock hero of old, complete with gender bending. Without the confidence, it’s foolish.
When Manson isn’t moaning about his broken heart, he’s going out of his way to shock you. “Arma-Goddamn-Motherfucking-Geddon” is meant to be a throwback to the Manson of old, but it’s just a string of profanity and violent imagery. “Satanic girls gone wild/truly fucking suicidal” might have caused outrage in 1997, but it barely raises an eyebrow in 2009. The worst offender is “I Want to Kill You Like They Do in the Movies.” Clocking in at over nine minutes, Manson pulls every “shocking” image out of the hat: Murder, fucking, skin grafts, but it has no effect. It’s an Onion article that has come true.
Shock rock is all about character. When Brian Warner created Marilyn Manson in the early 1990s, he created the polar opposite of the nerdy music journalist he was. A decade later, he is injecting more of his own feelings into his music. This is fine, but now the Manson character is on the same level as his creator. Perhaps it’s time for Marilyn Manson to die, and for Brian Warner to emerge from the shadows, because a sensitive Marilyn Manson just doesn’t work.
Update!
Posted in Updates on May 28, 2009 by jnagle4New review up soon, but in the meantime:
Check out this video, because an interview is coming up soon!
St. Vincent: Actor
Posted in Music, Reviews with tags 4AD, Actor, Actor Out of Work, Annie Clark, Apple, Arrested Development, Brooklyn, cool jazz, Dave Brubeck, Garage Band, iTunes, Marry Me, Music, Reviews, St. Vincent, The Party on May 26, 2009 by jnagle4
Actor is not just an album; it’s an indicator of where songwriting will go. The music of Annie Clark’s alter-ego St. Vincent isn’t particularly avant-garde or innovative, but her method of composing certainly is. Actor was written entirely on Garage Band, music software that is bundled with most Apple computers. It’s easy to judge Actor based on the unconventional method of writing, since most music written on a computer has a cold, distant feel. Actor may have been written and arranged electronically, but it sounds as if it was written the traditional way.
Clark has a taste for the dramatic, and nearly every track features an orchestral arrangement. They range from subtle and ambient (“The Strangers”) to more complex and ornate (“Marrow”). “Just the Same But Brand New” has one of the most interesting arrangements. The music was created using a keyboard, but it sounds like an electronic harpsichord. When the drums kick in halfway through, it changes the entire dynamic. Clark was influenced by film scores, and The Actor has a very cinematic feeling throughout. The complex arrangements are never overwhelming, because they are tempered with simple pop melodies. Every track is layered, so something new reveals itself each time.
Clark’s voice is a sweet, delicate thing. Her cadence rarely changes, and she maintains it regardless of the music behind her. The simple beauty of her voice works well against the complex composition of her music. That is the recurring theme of the entire record. Simplicity and complexity are not mutually exclusive, despite what we’ve been taught.
Perhaps the best part of Actor is Clark’s musical versatility. “Actor Out of Work” is a tense electronic rock song, with waves of guitar heightened by synthesizers. The drums crash behind Clark, as she calmly belts out the song. At times you want her to break out of her steady vocal style, to match the rage of the guitars. But Clark is too smart to fall into clichés. In fact, the sweetness of her voice coupled with the guitars make for a surprisingly uneasy listen.
It’s hard to find a highlight on a record that has so many, but my favorite moment is “The Party.” It’s vaguely reminiscent of Radiohead’s “Karma Police,” if “Karma Police” had a cool jazz swing to it. Once again, Clark throws a curveball. Most of the song is low-key, but midway she adds choirs and deeper drums. Not to sound like a broken record, but that is precisely why Actor is so great. You get nice and comfortable and then she changes everything up. Even though everything is changed, it fits within the basic song structure.
The mark of a great record is its repeat factor, and Actor has that in spades. You can listen to it ten times in a row, and something new will crop up each time. It’s the rare record that manages to be deep without being pretentious. Yes there are ornate arrangements, but it never sounds like she’s trying too hard. Annie Clark has written a cycle of mini-film scores, but never forgot to write songs.
J.R. Ewing is a Bastard, and I Love Him For It
Posted in Essays with tags Blanche DuBois, CBS, Dallas, J.R. Ewing, Jock Ewing, Larry Hagman, Nighttime Soaps, oil, Patrick Duffy, Reganomics, Southern Belle, Texas, the '70s, the '80s, Urban Cowboys, Victoria Principal, Who Shot J.R.? on May 23, 2009 by jnagle4
I woke up this morning with the sun shining through my window. The birds were chirping and the weather was warm. It was that time of year again. I had neglected it for most of 2009, but now it was time to get back to Southfork. It was Dallas season baby!
I discovered Dallas last summer, after reading Steven Hyden’s blog post about its greatness. I had just graduated from college and was wandering aimlessly. Watching a 30-year old nighttime soap seemed like a perfectly worthwhile pastime. The first two episodes introduced me to the dysfunctional Ewing family pretty well, but I didn’t get hooked until the third episode.
J.R. Ewing’s beleaguered alcoholic wife Sue Ellen buys a skimpy negligee and puts it on when J.R. comes home, hoping to entice him. J.R. calls the display “trashy,” and tells his wife to put some damn clothes on. In one of the greatest monologues in television history, Sue Ellen (played by Linda Gray, in full dinner theatre Blanche Dubois mode) says,
“J.R., YOU NEVAH MAKE LOVE TO ME ANYMORE!”
I became a full-blown addict after that display. As the season went on, the webs became more tangled. The Ewing Family was taken hostage by a psychotic Brian Dennehy, who forced Sue Ellen to put on her Miss Texas banner and sing Barbara Striesand’s “People.” A drunken J.R. pushed Bobby Ewing’s pregnant wife Pamela off the hayloft, causing her to miscarry. Long lost Ewing son Gary comes back, only to be driven away by J.R’s conniving ways. Family patriarch Jock Ewing had a heart attack, and Bobby and J.R. start jockeying (pun intended) for power.
In his blog post, Hyden proclaims that Dallas is in need of a Battlestar Galactica-like update. Add me to that contingent. Hyden wrote the blog before the economy went bust, but I think a new Dallas would work spectacularly well in these troubled times. People already watch The Hills, which is basically the same thing. The only difference is that J.R. is actually evil, while Spencer Pratt is just a douche.
Besides the Machiavellian backstabbing, sleazy affairs and heroic cocktail intake, there is a rich untapped vein of kitsch that runs through the whole series. The Ewings live in a world where everything is brown or puke green. The men all have immaculately crafted Ken doll hair, while the women have cascading layers of Farrah. If you haven’t seen Patrick Duffy get funky to a disco version of the theme song, then brother, you haven’t lived.
Dallas has no redeeming social value, unless you count the episodes where social issues are awkwardly inserted. There is no depth to the characters that inhabit Southfork, they are all just archetypes. J.R. is a bad guy, plain and simple. He doesn’t need to see a psychiatrist to work out his guilt over screwing Willie Orloff out of millions of dollars. The only character that needs depth is Bobby. His goody-goody act gets stale pretty quickly, but J.R. needs someone to fight with. J.R.’s fights with Sue Ellen are much better. They are juicier and usually involve some kind of underwear. Sue Ellen sulks away and ingests a fifth of vodka, as eyeliner runs down her face in thick black rivers.
To quote Mr. Hyden, Dallas is soap opera heroin. If you’ll excuse me, I need another fix.
