The Worley Gig:
Music and Mayhem in New York City
by Gail Worley

[Ed. Note: This edition of The Worley Gig appears exclusively in Pandomag.com.]

You Can't Bury a Worm
I love surprises. And what a delightful surprise it was to find a copy of Pandemonium Online contributor Kurt B. Reighley's new book, Marilyn Manson (St. Martin's Griffin) in my mailbox this week. Unlike the self-serving Neil Strauss-penned biography that hit the stores to much fanfare and faux controversy this past winter, Marilyn Manson takes a more journalistic approach to unraveling the rather complex personal and professional history of the self-professed Antichrist Superstar. I'd say it's the most entertaining and heart-felt biography on a band since the Led Zeppelin tell-all, Hammer of the Gods.

Expanding on information culled from Manson's many previously published interviews, coupled with first person accounts from former band members, friends and iconoclastic voices within the Manson camp, Reighley digs up some heretofore untrod-upon dirt. A prime fountainhead of juicy insight is Veronica Kirchoff, a Seattle-based club promoter and music journalist, once graced with the mixed blessing of running both Satan's Bakesale and the Marilyn Manson Family; the band's merchandise business and fan club, respectively. Kirchoff met Manson when the band was still known basically as Trent Reznor toadies, wrote about him, got to know him as a friend and later fell under his employ. Through her two-year relationship with Marilyn Manson, the man and the band, she was privy to both his endearing "personal geekiness" and ambition-fueled machinations. She is one of several "I knew him when" voices that add vibrancy and perspective to Reighley's engaging narrative.

Also not shy about spilling the beans is guitarist Scott Mitchell, formerly known as Daisy Berkowitz, who, with Manson, founded the band in 1990. Now living in Florida and working on various projects, Mitchell is currently suing Manson and the band's lawyer for a litany of professional contract infringements. Mitchell remembers meeting the teenage Brian Warner and thinking he was a "big geek," but being attracted to his unusual poetry and willingness to be endlessly experimental. "He had never played in a band before, and had no musical experience," Mitchell recalls of Manson, "He just wrote...weird poems, and I liked what he wrote, so I thought he could do that." At the time, Mitchell admits, he "never thought it would go anywhere."

Sour grapes aside, the book is not a post to which Manson is tied as the whipping boy of those who have grievances with him. Reighley remains objective, and gathers a diverse, representative faction of both those who laud Manson as a creative genius and great musical visionary, and those who see him as a heartless megalomaniac. The reader is allowed space to draw his or her own conclusions. And regardless of any justifiable bitterness on the part of someone like Veronica Kirchoff, she is empathetically portrayed as an individual who cared for Manson and was later kicked to the curb when the baggage she represented grew too heavy for him to bear. Ultimately, Kirchoff, one person among many who involved themselves with the rising star, became a casualty of Manson's swelling ego and voracious single-mindedness. "Everybody knows the name Marilyn Manson now," she is quoted as saying, "and that was his goal." Remarkably well-researched, Marilyn Manson is loaded with inside dope and previously obscured personal facts, making for a deeply engrossing page-turner that will enthrall fans and skeptics alike.

Darling, Please
If 100 nerdy teenage boys sat in a room for a month and wrote goofy songs about girls and getting revenge, eventually one of them would write a Darlington album. And that album would...rock the house!

The Ramones meet Weston on the way to visit Furious George on Darlington's Girltroversy (Last Beat Records), a collection of songs that can be best described as "Dork Punk." Christy Darlington willingly reveals his fool-proof formula for writing songs on "Judy Jetson": "This song sounds just like the last one/and the next one/and the one after that one/just repeat the same stuff a bunch of times/so you don't hafta think up any clever lines." Thus, a song like "Love" works on the same principle as "Sheena is a Punk Rocker." Touche! Oddly enough, the only tune that doesn't zoom along at a million caffeinated miles per hour is "Espresso," where Darlington croons about stuff he wants"; A large iced mocha, a new Barbie doll and to play guitar like Pat Smear. This record is rad! I especially like "House Pet," (I guarantee it will have you singing "I'm a House Pet!") and "Baltimore," inviting you to twist and clap along to a song about sexual asphyxiation. If you can't dance to this record, then you must be missing your legs!

Haus of Glass
Those of you who are wetting yourselves at news of this Bauhaus reunion, but frustrated that the band have announced no show dates in your home town, might be pacified by a couple of newly released CDs that are available right now. On the very day that tickets for Bauhaus' return to NYC went on sale, I received a copy of Crackle (Beggars Banquet), a definitive collection of Bauhaus' best and best-known songs.

The influence of Bauhaus can be heard in many bands, from Sisters of Mercy to Psychotica, who align themselves under the gothic banner. The difference between the original and the flattering imitation is that there is no pretension in the original. Who else could avoid sounding hopelessly smarmy or tongue-in-cheek while singing the phrase "Undead, undead, undead" the way Bauhaus can on their most popular song, "Bela Lugosi's Dead." This haunting, almost spiritual song - used so effectively over the opening credits of the Tony Scott film, The Hunger - builds in atmosphere for nearly three minutes before Peter Murphy's bleached-bone vocals creep in. By the time Murphy hypnotically moans, "Oh Beh-lah/Bela's not dead" near the song's conclusion, Lugosi's spirit has been invoked nearly to the point of presence in the room. Nobody does it better.

Bauhaus exposed and analyzed the double edged sword that is the nature of fame on songs like "She's in Parties" and "Spirit," which is included here in its up-beat, calypso version rather than the provocative dirge found on the album, The Sky's Gone Out. It might have been startling to have included both versions of "Spirit" as a way of demonstrating how Bauhaus could dramatically shift moods just by altering a song's tempo. "Terror Couple Kill Colonel," with its piercing arabesque guitar, tells a story of kidnap and torture inspired by a headline Murphy read in a newspaper. Other dark delights among the 16 tracks include "In the Flat Field," "Kick in the Eye," "Silent Hedges" and a faithful cover of Bowie's "Ziggy Stardust." Conspicuous in their absence are "Lagartija Nick," "Rose Garden Funeral of Sores" and the band's stunning interpretation of T Rex's "Telegram Sam," but then, an addiction to the music of Bauhaus always did have something to do with a longing that could never really be sated.

David J. On Glass: The Singles (Cleopatra records) collects the esoteric solo work of former Bauhaus bassist, David J, from 1983 to 1985: the years between the dissolution of Bauhaus and the formation of Love & Rockets (which everyone who has been paying attention in class already knows is just Bauhaus without Peter Murphy). As a bassist, J was never put in the spot light, so you might be surprised at the incredible range and versatility displayed over the course of these 15 songs. "The Promised Land" features a sax solo that would wake the dead and have them jumping in the boneyard, as the saying goes. "I Can't Shake This Shadow of Fear" has J's vocal delivery coming off with the punk bravado of Billy Idol or Joe Strummer, mixed with that suave devilishness personified by Howard Devoto. "On Crocodile Tears and the Velvet Cosh" - I swear - he sounds just like Bob Dylan. This isn't a mainstream-rock release by any stretch of the imagination, but if you're into some of the more eclectic new bands, such as New York's own Firewater or Congo Norvell, On Glass could be the fix to tide you over until the next Love & Rockets release, which I understand is in the works as I write this.

The Worley Gig regularly turns in both Pandemonium Online and The NY Hangover.

E-Mail Gail Worley

Other Features From Gail Worley:

Visual Audio Sensory Theatre - In this feature, Gail Worley discusses religion and revenge fantasies with Jon Crosby, the aspiring Gothman with a VAST array of sounds...

Dream Punk or Noise Pop? - Gail Worley goes to South Park and Melrose Place with Carrie Clark, art therapist and feedback diva from 16 Deluxe

God Lives Underwater - "With a name like God Lives Underwater, it has to be good," says Gail Worley

Previous turns of The Worley Gig:

The Worley Gig #1-- Summer, The Rules

The Worley Gig #2-- All Tomorrow's Parties

The Worley Gig #3-- Weaselfest '97

The Worley Gig #4-- How I Spent Summer

The Worley Gig #5-- Random Excerpts From My Ass-Kicking Life

The Worley Gig #6-- Christmas Kicks Total Ass

The Worley Gig #7-- She's About A Mover

The Worley Gig #8-- The Goddess and Pig Watts

The Worley Gig #9-- Outrageously Boss Records and What Not to Do On a Date

The Worley Gig #10-- Marilyn Manson: The Satanist in Winter

The Worley Gig #11-- A Mosquito, My Libido

The Worley Gig #12-- Sex By SexWest 1998

The Worley Gig #13-- I'm Only Numan

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