Album Review: Marilyn Manson - The Pale Emperor

Antichrist and alien, scapegoat and saviour, villain and visionary; the only thing ol’ Mazza has never been is static.

The undisputed king of ‘90s shock rock has survived the test of time because of his ability to morph musically, always managing to inject horror and humour into his persona in equal measures. His peak saw him equally as self-aware as he was shocking, experimenting with different songwriting partnerships and sounds on every album. With the release of The Pale Emperor, this remains true. Now in his mid-40s, Manson revels in his legacy. Once a reckless instigator using shock to deliver his occasionally intellectual message, he has refined his craft into a marriage of mainstream and underground tropes, making both parties uncomfortable.

Musically, the album resurrects the ‘90s Manson’s sombre weirdness, embracing a sound-scape inspired by New York City rock’n’roll with faint hints of Delta blues. The start-stop riffs and spoken-word groans of Manson’s past remain, but they’re packaged differently. The Mephistopheles Of Los Angeles and The Devil Beneath My Feet are the standouts of this album, with Manson’s self-loathing wit accompanied by the broodingly warm bass of longtime co-conspirator Twiggy Ramirez. Manson refuses to repeat himself, collaborating with Shooter Jennings and composer Tyler Bates. This is the same Manson that gave us Mechanical Animals, just 17 years on.

Impossibly dark, bitter and soulful from start to finish, Manson is once again set to inspire the armies of pissed-off teenagers, retired metal-heads and not-quite goths everywhere. The king has returned.