What's a shock rocker to do when he can no longer shock, or rock?
For Marilyn Manson, it's a question he's tried and failed to answer across his patchy previous three albums.
The Pale Emperor is different. Slower, wiser and a little more mature, Brian Warner's ninth record ignores his glam-metal roots and discovers the joys of blues-infused swamp rock. His lyrics are still dark and dirty: "I'm ready to meet my maker / Lazarus has got no dirt on me" Manson groans unconvincingly on The Mephistopheles Of Los Angeles.
But there's a knowing twinkle in his makeup-smeared eyes, especially when he admits he's "a scarecrow on death row" on the tender but morbid closing ballad Day 3. When paired with new-found restraint of grimy opener Killing Strangers, and brilliant single Third Day of a Seven Day Binge, that makes The Pale Emperor the most satisfying Manson album in about a decade.
On the thrilling goth-waltz centrepiece Odds of Even, you can imagine Manson prowling around the stage, leering into his microphone and eyeballing the crowd like a gothic Nick Cave. If there's ever a time for Marilyn Manson to lose the make-up and change his name back to Brian, it's now.
