The Low End Of Low

How low can you sink? Never enough, apparently, whenever there are females envolved. That has been Marilyn Manson's life motto for quite a few years already, and it wasn't going to change for his recent collaboration with Avril Lavigne.

That's right: the image above is a piece of fan art (don't worry, I didn't do it myself - it was the internet), but it's not a joke. The collaboration does exist, and it's included in Avril Lavigne's *sigh* self-titled album, that came out about a month ago.

The song in question is called *sigh* Bad Girl *sigh* *sigh* *sigh*, and, right as its title indicates, it is an epic piece of shit. And I'm not saying this just because I'm not a fan of Avril Lavigne and everything she represents - there really is NOTHING you can say in this song's defense. Written by the Nickel-glorious (and Lavigne-husband) Chad Kroeger, among others, the whole thing is a triplet-feel mess, with some pseudo-heavy Beautiful-People-esque distorted guitars, and Avril shouting on top, drowned in a pool of retro reverb, like some especially bratty and unprofessional version of Suzi Quatro. This shit is so awful it makes Taylor Momsen sound like Black Sabbath. It even makes the duet between Ke$ha and Iggy Pop sound sort of decent.  

Marilyn Manson's contrubution is reduced to one single phrase that is mechanically repeated throughout the song, which makes it even worse: if you're going to disgrace your name by taking part in such a questionable project, at least make it worth it. But that was never the objective of this... thing. The only reason for this collaboration - the C-word uglier than cancer - was to include Manson's name in the album tracklist, in order to spark some morbid interest, as well as buying the girl some artistic cred. Judging by the sales and the repercussion of the record, they failed at both, and dropped Manson's credibility levels even lower in the process. But that's exactly what the Industry does. Always. And the most amazing thing is that he doesn't even seem to have learnt that yet... even after being mistreated, criminally underpromoted and kicked out of Interscope in the most unfriendly way.

He, who has the blessing of not having to dance to the beat of the Evil Industry anymore, doesn't quite seem to find his place in the outside world. He might be releasing his records (one record, to date) independently, but he seems extremely reluctant to quit the celebrity game... and he doesn't seem too keen on burning brigdes either. The fearless man who once terrorized America (and the world) with his uncompromising social critique doesn't seem to have the balls to say the truth about the industry, or about the real reasons why his High End Of Low tanked was tanked, or to call Martin Kierszenbaum - the man in charge of his The High End Of Low promo - and Jimmy Iovine the things they really are.

Of course, he must have found out, at some point, that his whole career was a marketing mirage created by Interscope, and that's not an easy pill to swallow. He was Interscope's favourite puppet during the years when alternative rock was cool and Uncle Jimmy was desperate to create controversy at any price, and then he was just left aside, mobbed, and mercilessly thrown into the trashbin. No 'thank you' for the past sales and buzz. No glory for a faded cultural icon, who was probably one of the most influential and memorable characters of the 90s, as well as the frontman of one of the most important bands of the decade, musically speaking. His marketing was a corporate construction. His music and values weren't.

He, who once yelled "I'm not a slave to a god that doesn't exist / I'm not a slave to a world that doesn't give a shit", is now a rapidly aging man who seems to have forgotten his own glory and his own strength. Instead of claming what is due to him, he just sits sadly in a corner, trying to prove to himself (and to the world) that he can still be young and edgy.

He, who once criticised the values of Hollywood, has now become one of the undead creatures that populate the streets of LA. The city has eaten him from the inside, like it does with everone, and he doesn't even seem to have noticed.

And don't get me wrong - the man is still capable of releasing some quality music, but it seems like all his energy and all his ambitions in life are completely gone, like he has already achieved everything... which he definitely hasn't. Even though his career as a whole can't be called a failure, it can't be called a complete success either. He never had the chance to achieve the iconic status that KISS, Black Sabbath, David Bowie or even Nirvana have, not because he doesn't deserve it, but simply because nobody ever has a chance to do that in the era of the Industry Consolidation. And that' a real shame.

In this era, musicians don't work to build their own glory. They work for the glory of the Corporation, and are not even allowed to put their belongings in a cardboard box and take them home, once their work is done. Their successes are expropiated; their failures are charged to their bill and remembered forever. And they still have to be thankful, for having once had the honour of serving the Evil Empire of Music (a.k.a. the Uni-Label), and never ever speak against it, in hopes that, one day, the Gods might, perhaps, find them useful for some of their evil purposes again.

And so, Jimmy Iovine walks free with the money, and delivers speeches to college students at the university he has just bought for himself as a playground to spend his time at during his golden days of glorious retirement, while Marilyn Manson has to live in a modest appartment, with his artistic credibility blown to dust, and with the stigma of the precoucious has-been.

Nothing more left for the 44-year-old Marilyn Manson. Just a glimpse at life in the Low End of Low.