It was the perfect night for a Marilyn Manson concert – cold, dreary and wet. As expected (but always hoped against), we had to cloak everything on the unreasonable prohibited items list, and so it was a frustrating half hour wait to cloak a camera which Festival Hall also charged for. After these unnecessary delays I was finally granted entry into the dark and stuffy atmosphere all set for one of the biggest acts to come to Australia.
Surprisingly, it was The Spazzys enjoying their big break up on stage; playing their incessant chick rock much to the dismay of punters. The dark clothed army that was assembled on the floor below them resorted to bird flipping the band throughout their set. Despite this hostile yet nonchalant behaviour, The Spazzys continued on riffing it up with attitude until their time was up. Good on ‘em I say!
From old school Manson fans, to the young at heart and the very young, Festival Hall catered to people from all walks. There was that first whiff of pot smoke and I observed the rebellious cigarette smokers like teenagers at high-school. “Thanks heaps guys and good night,” The Spazzys added as they ended the set. “Can someone please throw some fuckin’ bottles up here? It’s your last chance!” Kat heckled as she attempted to humour the unresponsive crowd.
There were mixed feelings among many Manson fans who are, for the most part, impatient. “Manson, Manson” becomes the chant of the night and was even shouted at the drawn red and black curtains. I realised that it would be some time before Marilyn Manson grace the stage and so off to the downstairs bar I descended. It was chaos in the overcrowded room as everyone attempted to booze up before the show. There were freaks and geeks alike, up above from try-hard goths to the corpulent kind, and they were all there for the same cause – to see the self proclaimed ‘God of f—k’.
I observed a sea of pale faces and seeming misfits amongst the crowd to a rather odd guy doing his best to imitate a soulless corset-wearing deep-staring Manson worshipper. I checked the time – quarter to ten and still no show. Then, it happens. An enormous uproar started even before the curtains opened, accompanied by lots of smoke and strings to introduce the man and his band. As expected, the cameras go up despite the failed efforts of pat-downs by security earlier.
Haunting sounds set the vibe for the opening track ‘If I was Your Vampire’. “Six a.m, Christmas morning,” he croaked. Ear-splitting shrieks were abound as Manson reached out to the front row before giving a friendly lean on Tim Sköld. The crowd uproar was relentless as Manson turned his back to the crowd and kneeled down. “Melbourne, let me hear it!” he exclaimed.
‘Disposable Teens’ opened up the room with an intoxicating chant as Manson continued to work the crowd as he knows so well. “Australia!” he called as the crowd rang back: “Manson!” His top hat was not out of place, adding more character to his changing wardrobe as he began to rant. “Freedom of speech does not have a dental plan,” he explained. After trying to decipher exactly what he was getting at he held a derogatory article concerning him and his fans, then proceeded to quote that Manson fans weren’t considered intelligent. “Maybe we should punch her in the teeth?” he offered with reference to the author as the crowd cheered in agreement.
‘mOBSCENE’, as expected, received a massive response as Manson threw his top hat across the stage to an increasingly excited crowd response. Numerous shrieking and giddy girls ran through the crowd in hysteria, eager to push their way to the front at random intervals. “We hate love, we love hate!” repeated the crowd, echoing Manson’s lyrics from the aptly titled song ‘Irresponsible Hate Anthem’.
Limited to communicating through hand gestures over the rapturous noise was the order of the moment for Sköld as he exhibited his vast array of string skills. Lights flashed and flickered with impressive force with enough chaotic flashes to give anyone an epileptic fit. “Melbourne!” Manson enthused while sirens blared somewhere in between the crowd’s anarchy. A heart monitor lit up on a towering screen, acting as a metaphor to measure the life of the show which, by the way, was no less than absolutely alive at this point. Theatrics were abundant and flaming graphics adorned the background screen. If you play it loud and with passion, they will surely come. And they came in hoards. Fantastic solos caught attention throughout – Sköld working his strings with blasting precision. Further, the awesome break-through cover ‘Sweet Dreams’ instantly took hold of the crowd, ensuing and uplifting introductory clap from fans.
I was then transported back to a time in an interview in 1999 when Marilyn bared his behind for a moment, just because he could. Yet, it was also obvious that Marilyn and his crew were experienced rockers armed with a killer stage show and a flurry of guitar effects to boot. His description of the song to follow was “an old mother-fucking song”, much to the excitement of the crowd. He then proceeded to shove a small white cloth down his pants before throwing it to the front row, creating a scramble among fans.
As with all major acts such as this, crowd participation is huge. Marilyn kissed his hand and took a bow. “Let’s hear it for the guitar solo!” he announced. We had our suspicions from the sounds that came next – random whistles and a boxing-like holler. The lyrics “fight, fight!” gave it away as ‘Fight Song’ became the cue for Manson to re-appear in his boxing costume. “Not a slave to a God that doesn’t exist!” he yelled while showing the broad hat atop his head, then discarding the microphone stand as he belted out his thought-provoking lyrics. Funnily enough, and to the contrary of such a great show, his vocals were inaudible at times which can be expected from such a shout-fest. The word ‘drugs’ beamed on the screen for the welcomed song ‘Dope Show’ alongside another favourite ‘Rock Is Dead’.
Random words flashed before us during the intense riffing of ‘The Reflecting God’ as if to pierce the psyche open for interpretation. Manson extended his arm as the songs came to an end. Shortly after, in rolled the piano which was when a massive eruption of energetic clapping ensued. Manson perched himself on a pedestal, adorned with his trademark lightning symbol, while acting like a neo-dictator. It wasn’t hard to draw comparisons to the Nazi era as he sang lyrics that included “when the world thinks you’re already dead” from song ‘The Point’ before stepping down from his throne. An alien-like searchlight illuminated and the crowd roared once more. “Melbourne!” he screamed as the wildly anticipated ‘Beautiful People’ worked its magic to make everyone feel appreciated as fans of Manson and his band.
The show halted after not more than an hour and a half. As the echoes of rage subsided and various people stood and waited for an encore they began to realise quickly that Marilyn Manson wasn’t coming back. And so the sadness existed in some hearts of Manson followers who will have to go unquenched for perhaps another few years. Who knows when he’ll be back, but at least he knows he’s still adored and admired by many despite much of his influence and existence is detested by some.
wysht
said ages ago