Heaven Upside Down

Heaven Upside Down betters that record [2015's The Pale Emperor]. [14 Oct 2017, p.50]

There’s more than enough life in his work to shock, provoke thought, and inspire for another two decades.

[2015’s The Pale Emperor] was the most revitalised he had sounded in years. That energy hasn’t flagged an inch on Heaven Upside Down.

Manson is keeping things exciting and crucial the only way rock’s long-running antihero can. Pro Tip: Listen on headphones, where his unadorned, chilling stalker-esque asides will make your bladder flex.

At a svelte 10 songs and 47½ minutes, Heaven Upside Down is the shortest Marilyn Manson album yet, avoiding the overstuffed redundancy of past efforts. No one expected this band to be doing some of its best work 20 years after it first shook up the zeitgeist, but here it is, continuing to evolve while toning down its more dated or cartoonish aspects.

This is a record that should please both the Hot Topic kiddie-creep contingent and Manson’s more seasoned and sophisticated fans sonically. Lyrically, it captures a lot of his oddball charm, too.

Manson’s nihilistic take on 2017 is interwoven with glimpses of personal darkness, wrapped up in mutually constrictive and damaging relationships on epic dirge Blood Honey and the closing Threats Of Romance, ordering a partner to do his murderous bidding on the Muse disco blues Kill4Me, and mourning the loss of his father on the seven-minute centrepiece Saturnalia. But even here there’s a renewed crackle to Manson’s attack--a viper regaining its bite.

That old black magic often sounds forced, but he makes up for it with a few more melancholy tracks.

We’re unlikely to see the power or the passion of Manson’s classic run again - it’s very difficult to bottle lightning twice - and you shouldn’t come to Heaven Upside Down expecting anything as textured, interesting or frightening as those early releases. That said ... It’s business as usual, but after a decade of disappointment, it’s good to know business is doing well.

Neither subtle nor very shocking, it still sounds as if Manson, Countess Bathory-style, has received a shot of fresh blood. [Nov 2017, p.111]

For Manson fans this is familiar territory: the same mechanical riffs, same whisper/scream vocals heard on his regular stream of albums. Here, most songs are entertaining rather than groundbreaking. Occasionally they’re neither.

On Heaven Upside Down, his 10th album, Manson embraces the tropes that made him a menace and a rock star and a stalwart of goth.

Heaven Upside Down finds Manson struggling for meaning. The lyrics are not the harsh, pointed barbs that he supposes they are. Simply sounding like the tame, blunted fury of a man rehashing the same old tired themes.