Thursday, May 15, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Listening Station

Marilyn Manson

The Golden Age of Grotesque

There's not much shock value left in Marilyn Manson. If you have seen one of his shows or read his autobiography, you've pretty much seen it all. Now, Mr. Manson and his brood must rely on songwriting and substance to revive interest in their art. He's got the latter on his side; his interview in Michael Moore's Bowling for Columbine earned him all but an Oscar, and his social commentary is essential in George W. Bush's America. He had the former on 1998's undervalued Mechanical Animals, but he lost focus on 2000's Holy Wood, which didn't yield a hit or anthem like "The Beautiful People" or "The Dope Show."

His band's latest effort, The Golden Age of Grotesque, isn't as consistently rewarding as Mechanical Animals, but by concentrating more on sonic nuances and finding fresh ways to grab the listener's attention, the band feels re-energized and sound evolved--not to mention fun. There is all sorts of funk and rhythm on board here; the Adam Ant bop of "Doll-Dagga Buzz-Buzz Diggety-Zag" displays the band as its most wickedly ebullient. The chorus-ending cheer section for the first single, "mOBSCENE," gives the snarling track a sense of humor. And though his self-referential nature nearly rivals that of most rappers, he wryly goofs on that sort of misogynist narcissism in "(s)AINT." Halfway through, though, the album loses some of its steam and distinction, and you're treading through familiar territory. What saves you from totally tuning out is Manson's lyrical prowess, as bitchy and expressive as ever (see "Better of Two Evils").

The Golden Age is the devilish ringmaster at his most entertaining, and the band at its spunkiest. Clear Channel and Wal-Mart might frown on it, but one imagines that Manson would be disappointed if they didn't.--Mike Prevatt

The New Pornographers

Electric Version

Amen, happy bombast! Hallelujah, snarky pop sweetness! Blessed be, ebullient chunk-a-lunk guitars 'n' plushy keys! If rock 'n' roll bands like this are indeed the new pornographers (like Jimmy Swaggart once said), then this is a welcome perversion indeed. This sunny-sounding Vancouver supergroup--sporting players from different bands who occasionally team up as The New Pornographers--is a welcome, laughing heel-kick in the face of a whole raft of stupid stateside musical trends, from 'roid-pumped angst-rock to self-conscious lo-fi garage mopery to overtough nu-metal.

With its somewhat zany, neon-tinged rock, The New Pornographers are a pop band in the most quintessential sense: The accessibility of their sound demands (and deserves) a broad audience--without giving the faintest thought to dumbing itself down. That's the cool thing: For all its frosting and candy roses, Electric Version also shows off serious songwriting wizardry in the form of lushly arranged pop-rock gems that, at their best, quiver with the restless energy of a sugar-addled toddler. The opening suite of songs is particularly strong, with Dan Bejar's high whine on the happily manic "The Electric Version" calling to mind the comic exasperation of the Buzzcocks, while track two, "From Blown Speakers," wonks and tilts like a broken carousel that's nonetheless goddamn fun, pumped up with choral shouts. Alt-country rocker Neko Case lends her pipes on a handful of songs, bringing in her splashy, gimmick-free voice to burbler "The Laws Have Changed," and the grinning, stomping "The New Face of Zero and One." This brand of porn is rated E for everyone.--Andrew Kiraly

Ex Models

Zoo Psychology

Ex Models is not an easy band to figure out. (And it's not only because frontman Shahin Motia wails in such a terse, frenetic soprano that his lyrics are rendered almost completely senseless). Thrust to the frontlines of the post-punk avant-garde with their 2001 debut Other Mathematics, the Ex Models combine influences from Miles Davis to the Minutemen to make a hybrid that sounds something like a bucket of mice being dumped into a nest of grinding gears.

Which is what makes Zoo Psychology so puzzling--at least at first glance. Featuring songs titled "Pink Noise," "Brand New Panties" and "Hey Boner," a quick perusal of the Zoo Psychology jacket reveals all the earmarks of a ribald jaunt through the female psyche (an exceedingly bizarre musical departure for four pale, uni-brow-laden math rockers). But the ruse is shattered in the opening seconds of "Fuck to the Music"--a sporadic thump that builds to a warp-speed climax of chaotic cymbal crashes and distorted guitar mangle.

From there, Zoo Psychology evolves into a 25-minute, new-wave 'roid rage: a frenzy of esoteric noise broken by blasts of feedback and flashes of silence. All but abandoning the semi-familiar melodic interludes that characterized Other Mathematics (sonic jaunts that smacked of The Pixies and Talking Heads), Ex Models take Zoo Psychology to new levels of refined agitation, squeezing stupefying musical designs into sub-two-minute volleys of wadded-up sandpaper. Of these, perhaps the strangest is "The Password Is Pelican"--a 28-second electronic drum solo pierced by a single, ear-splitting burst of amplified fuzz.

Of course, Zoo Psychology does not make for easy listening. In fact, several consecutive listens might leave you curled up in the fetal position desperately trying to shake the noises out of your skull. But for someone seeking a thoughtful alternative to the punk drivel so callously strewn about the mainstream, it might be just the shiver you've been looking for.--Newt Briggs