Manson

All ye of the Christian Right persuasion, you oughta leave now, cuz I'ma be jerking over the Antichrist Superstar himself for a while here.  So unless you wanna catch some 21-year-old fanatical spunk in your eye, I suggest you backdafuqup.  If you aren't one of these silly conservative types that hates those doo-wopping rapscallions and their "rock and roll" doodads where they move their hips and buy each other malts... well, you'll probably still get spermed on, but I'll try a bit harder not to.

Well, now that I've alienated about half of you by talking about sperm, let's begin.

Uh, the whales?  Obviously?

Though I didn't really get into Marilyn Manson until freshman year(ish), I was never part of the other camp, people who took the two things they knew about Manson (plays some kind of heavy music with a lot of swears that no one's actually tried to listen to, and... I don't know, wears makeup?) plus the things they think they know about Manson ("Eewwwwww he's creeeepyyyyyy!"  Your mom's creepy.  "Hurr he got a rib removed."  No, that's not a thing that happened.  "They're the guys that started that riot, right?"  No, that was Limp Bizkit.  "URRRRR He's responsible for Columbine!" eye twitch) to equal: a frightening and unnecessary hatred normally reserved for Osama Bin Laden and exercise.

We'll find a way to get you too, Exercise.  Just you wait.  Smug bastard.

Somewhere down the line I Limewired (yeah, remember that?) a random sampling of his songs on a whim.  I'd heard people speak fearfully of his music, describing it as "crazy death metal" and other surprisingly-stupider epithets.

Yeah.  I've heard numerous people call THIS GUY "death metal".

Teenage-me, even when I barely knew what "death metal" was, figured that had to be stupid on some level or another.  Yeah, whatever, call it teenage arrogance, but it's not hard to tell when someone (or many a someone) has an uninformed opinion.  So I netted a random bunch of songs, mostly singles, and listened to 'em.  I liked the FUCK out of them.  Somewhere in the next sometime (this ain't no history lesson), I went down to my local FYE (sigh... auf wiedersehen, old friend) and, on kind of a whim, bought two of his albums: Eat Me Drink Me (cuz I liked "Heart-Shaped Glasses") and Antichrist Superstar (cuz I liked "The Beautiful People").

The rest of my day after I got home went something like this:

Shut myself in attic (my hangout)

Popped in Antichrist Superstar (came out first, so hey, why not?)

Listened

Did little else

Was like "WTF?"

Stared at jewel case for a minute

Listened again

Fucking "got it, man"

I mean no, I didn't, because Manson fills his lyrics with so much imagery and symbols and crazy artistic shit that I don't think I could wrap my head all the way around it without the assistance of psychotropics, but I "got it" enough.

Mr. Marilyn knows how to write a freaking song, to be sure.  But his strength lies in the albums as full-on sit-and-ponder hour-or-so-long experiences.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnndd Blogger's having a shit-fit and suddenly can't post images.  Sucks, cuz I was about to put something funny.  Now you'll just have to imagine it.

The themes, the way the songs flow into one another, the hidden (and not-so-hidden) narrative, how they end and begin... there's something really special there, something that never fails to captivate me and put me in some mystic, if unsettled, place.

Point is, even if it may not show up in my songwriting (not like there's anywhere to hear my songs... or like I have songs recorded), Marilyn Manson's music is what pushed me into wanting to knuckle down and get serious about it.  Not like "I think I'm gonna be a rock star" serious, but serious like I want to actually be good at it, I want to write a ballston of songs, I wanna have bands, I wanna know bands, play shows, spit beer on my fans, bring down das houses, have people hear my shit, and ya know what?  Maybe even inspire someone like Manson inspired me.  Fuck I gotta go record.

Fucking Drummers.

Like the title says, fucking drummers man.  My experience with them has been nothing but Spinaltappian.  I mean, they haven't exploded or anything, but I feel like the problem would be less confusing if they had.

Drummers 1, 2, and 3: The First Band
Like it says, my first band.  We were terrible and no I'm not telling you the name; it's a name I came up with and it's a name I'm still damn proud of, but I can't say the same for the music.  Started the band with three friends.  I'd just learned bass and that's all I did, whereas the other three all switched between guitar, vocals, and drums. Thus, the first three drummers.  Band dissolved, goodbye first three drummers.

Drummer 4: The Weak Link
Being in a band with this drummer was easily the most fun I've had in a band setting, and he's still one of my best friends.  But damn playing with him could be hard.  Were the singer-guitarist (who was actually one of the members of The First Band) and I just so ahead of the curve?  Not really, no.  Did we make it work?  Sure.  Anyways, that's not why his time as Drummer #4 was cut short; he actually quit for his job.  Pssh, real careers.

Drummer 5: The Older Dude
The Older Dude was cool, good drummer.  Usually.  He had his problems though; namely, the last show we played with him where he fell asleep in the middle of the set.  Not kidding, went fucking narcoleptic on us, hands moving autonomously (if it was on-time, it would've only been a problem for him).  The singer/guitarist's CD release show no less.  Again, like Drummer #4, the problems weren't what got him (unofficially) terminated.  He eventually just dropped off the map, not returning calls and shit.

Drummer 6: The Prodigy
Not even fucking around, this guy's the best drummer I've ever played with.  What's crazier, he doesn't own a drum kit and, for the most part, doesn't even listen to that much rock music.  Or, you know, any other kind of music where you think of drums.  Dude listens to and plays mostly gospel.  Okay, funk-kinda-stuff too, which is definitely known for drumming... stuff...  Anyways, off track.  So, good drummer, great fucking drummer... LAZY fucking drummer.  Seriously, there were several practices toward the end there, before we finally pronounced him dead, where I'd come all the way from downtown and he just wouldn't show up.

Drummer 7: The Doofus
Good friend.  Good drummer.  Good dad.  Wherein lies the problem.  Motherfucker's on his second goddamn kid with a second goddamn woman.  For an atheist, he's got a weirdly hard time believing in birth control.  Well in the meantime, it looks like he's giving up on music, sold his kit and everything.  Not calling him a doofus for having kids, more for being silly and not wrapping his willy.

Holy balls, I'm just gonna stop here.  This was all a lot more depressing than I'd intended.  God damn it life, why can't you be more like Spinal Tap?

For your time and troubles, here's a picture of a silly drummer.  Or the offspring of Danny McBride and a walrus. You decide.