After crossing Georgia Avenue and walking closer to The Fillmore, I could already tell that the Marilyn Manson concert was sold out just by seeing the MASSIVE crowd fighting their way to the front doors, like Marisa V. from Virginia who had waited patiently for 8 hours amongst many others to make certain that they would get front row center stage to witness and be part of all the madness.
The crowd was full of posers, die hard fans, and people of all backgrounds and ages with their Goth or SteamPunk attire with typical mohawks, shaved heads, and multi-colored yarn braided hair. The music was muffled in the foyer but slowly became clearer and louder as the double doors would swing open with people slowly trickling in to find a place to stand. What I heard first sounded more like Pop Rock than anything else, and come to find out it was the sounds of The Pretty Reckless with lead singer model/actress Taylor Momsen.
Taylor Momsen’s sound reminded me of Joan Jett or Courtney Love. It wasn’t bad at all despite not being able to really hear the lyrics, though I could see a few women in the audience singing along. What made it better was being able to see Taylor gyrate on the mic stand as if it was stripper pole, and too bad it wasn’t because it seemed like she wanted to show us more than her musical talent. It just seemed like she was just trying to get attention and make up for the lack of quality. She didn’t make me want to buy her music at all – very surprising choice of an opener for Marilyn Manson. Her band finally stopped as the immense crowd grew tired and started chanting, MANSON, MANSON, MANSON, for about 10 minutes straight, everyone joining in from the main floor to the upper levels.
Suddenly the lights dimmed and everyone started screaming and whistling, it became louder and louder with everyone’s eyes fixed on this giant black cover wrapped around the entire stage. The black cover made a loud snapping sound as it fell down in a rippling motion revealing the band and man of the hour in what looked like the fashion of All Saints, or Diesel, with a black ripped open leather vest and tight pleather pants with 4 inch fake me out Dr. Martins. He strutted back and forth opening the set with “Hey, Cruel World.” That is when everyone decided to completely lose it. There was so much going on that it was a bit hard to fully concentrate on the band. Young drunk women were flashing the whole room while on the shoulders of even drunker men who had their eyes closed but still managed to sing along word for word, feeling the vibe of repetitive drum patterns of Drummer Jason Sutter and heavy guitar chords both from former Bassist Twiggy Ramirez and current Bassist Fred Sablan. They continued to rock away with songs such as Disposable Teens and mOBSCENE, and I couldn’t help but notice the huge bulge Manson had in his pants as he kept grabbing himself, eventually reaching into his pants and pulling out Manson shirts for those die hard fans willing to do anything to get a piece of him. They loved the souvenirs and how he kept reaching out to the front row with his shiny brass knuckled microphone. To my surprise, they also loved how many times he was spitting on stage and spitting into the crowd.
Manson has obviously had too much to drink, and I was impressed by how fast he could change outfits in between songs in his state of inebriation. He became more and more belligerent each time he came out, dropping the mic, mic stand, and guitars after every song. He went on to preform The Dope Show, Slo-Mo-Tion and Rock is Dead with a butcher’s knife attached to his mic and acted as if he was stabbing the people in the front row. When he noticed people trying to take his photo, he convinced them to give him the camera, and then Manson (being the nice guy he is) took their camera, took a picture of them with it, and threw it over their heads into the horde of Manson minions.
Near the end of the show, he approached a 10-foot tall podium with a antichrist superstar logo on the front and put his hand out in a Hitler gesture. The entire audience hailed back as he began to rip off the microphones attached to the podium and sing Irresponsible Hate Anthem. Then the guitarists started playing a song in a distorted style, but I could still kind of make out the beginning of Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This), originally written by Annie Lennox and David A. Stewart in 1983. Hearing that song brought me so many memories of my earlier years of being lost and going through depression, but somehow it put a smile on my face. He then finished up with Antichrist Superstar, and after the final note the entire Fillmore Auditorium echoed in WE WANT MORE, WE WANT MORE, and more we got when he stepped back into the spotlight with silver paint all over his face and body, performing The Beautiful People. He continued to spit like an baseball outfielder, slurring his words and throwing water bottles up in the air and into the faces of onlookers.
Thirsty for more? Well guess you would have to settle for being parched because that was the end of the show. Hundreds of people stood around looking at the floor once the bright lights came on, trying to find personal belongings or memorabilia. I found that pretty amusing and looked at my watch, shocked to see that it was only 10:45 pm because it felt so much later. I honestly had fun and enjoyed myself, but I did expect more from him and the band. Maybe given the time it took me to finally see them live (a sweet 16 years), perhaps I missed them in their prime? Still, I saw people I knew and haven’t seen in years and met some interesting people so I have to thank Marilyn Manson and the Fillmore for a very unexpected evening.
Event Grade: C+
TRR CONCERT REVIEW by Dorian Fernandez