Marilyn Manson / Slayer
Words: Aubrey Bramble
Photos: Michael Spadoni

Appeared:
July 27, 2007
Ford Amphitheater, Tampa

Worth the 10 beers and sweltering summer heat.

A magical shower of blood-red tissue paper hearts came spiraling down upon us in a dream-like haze, and I couldn't help but giggle with delight as I desperately tried to catch a handful of these teasingly elusive valentines from everyone's favorite master of indecency, Marilyn Manson. Yes, that Marilyn Manson.

As Manson belted out his latest hit, "Heart-Shaped Glasses," (himself outfitted in a candy-apple-red pair) it became very clear that this was not the Manson of yore. Gone were the ostentatious displays of self-mutilation and kinderwhore garb. In their place stood a seemingly kinder, gentler Manson, dressed conservatively in a well-tailored black suit and grasping a sinister-looking butcher knife microphone (the only immediate clue that not all was as it seemed).

Opening with the seductive and hypnotic "If I Was Your Vampire," the crowd slipped drowsily under the shocker chanteur's charismatic spell. Manson then charged through "Disposable Teens," "The Dope Show," "Sweet Dreams," and ten more of his provocative anthems with an impeccable vocal clarity and staggering stage presence. His elaborate, constantly revolving array of props and set pieces added a special showmanship to the set that made the evening even more delicious.

As his composure began to erode over some forgettable sound problems, small remnants of a "Down in the Park"-era Manson began to slither out and command the stage. The most notable: a three-song long temper tantrum during which he kicked one of the drum kits over, tried repeatedly to rid himself of his microphone, and eventually fell to the stage, where he rolled around on his back and assaulted himself with one of the floor lights.

Although entertaining and unpredictable, these antics ultimately brought an abrupt end to the show, when at just under the one-hour mark he walked off stage and never came back.

Co-headliner Slayer was decidedly less of a thrill. Despite the mild disappointment over Manson's anorexic set, I preferred his terseness to Slayer's redundant guitar solos and whiplash-inducing hair swings. I think, but am not entirely sure, that they played for nearly two hours. I eventually gave up trying to decipher when one song ended and the next began and went to meander around the beer stands until it was time for intermission.

One thing is certain: these dudes still have it in them to bring the metal. They sounded amazing live and most definitely brought it... but it kept coming long after it should have ended.

Overall, the evening was a cherry-topped ice cream sundae of rock and roll decadence. Next time, however, I'd like to catch Manson on his own… preferably someplace indoors and with A/C.