Rolling Stone - December 2000
2000 was all about ch-ch-ch-ch-changes for Marilyn Manson, who spent most of the year working on his new album, Holy Wood(In the Shadow of the Valley of Death). "I was challenged with the idea of how do I make a heavy record when heavy music is fashionable," he says, "and it's my nature to go against the grain." MAnson loses the fake boobs from 1998's Mechanical Animals and reconnects with his inner goth on Holy Wood. He's tabled negotiations to turn his Holy Wood novel, due early next year, into a major motion picture, but has already launched a tour that's cinematic in scale. "2000 was an incubation period for me," he says. "And I've just hatched. So, God bless America, they're in for trouble."
What are your goals for next year?
One word: chaos.
Dare I ask you to elaborate?
The reason being that I feel like everything is so regimented, everything is very Top Ten, everything is very wake up, go to school, come home, go to bed, do it again. I think it's important that things come along like tornadoes and cause you to flip everything upside down to look at things differently. And, for no other reason, piss people off. Chaos is very important. And when you learn to control chaos, it's an even more beautiful thing.
What was the most disheartening thing that happened to you this year?
Nothing more disheartening than any other year in my life. I think that the world's been ending since the day I was born, and it keeps beating toward that every day. One half of me wishes that it would get over with, the other half of me has this optimism that I can contribute something worthwhile. Because, if I've gained any wisdom over the years, it's that a lot of people sit back and say, "This is bad, let's destroy it. This is bad, let's censor it." And few people contribute something. Whether people like what I do or not, the fact that I'm creating something and not destroying something - that's really the only thing that you can do as an artist.
What's the best thing you wore this year?
For the photo that accompanies this piece, there is a Siamese-twin lamb taxidermed jacket that I had made. I recruited a very wonderful woman named Deborah Viereck to make it for me, and told her that I only wanted clothes made from dead animals, and I don't mean leather pants. So she went and found all these scraps and roadkill and made some really interesting clothing. I wanted to make something beautiful out of what most people would think as disgusting and ugly and worthless, to show that there is some beauty in death. It's not just me being morbid.
Any health precautions you take before wearing that kind of stuff?
Fortunately, for the animals, they're already dead, so they can't catch anything from me.
