Rock and pop audiences in the 1970s would take offence at the faintest hint of impropriety. David Bowie only had to put his arm around another man’s shoulders on Top of the Pops to be declared a threat to society. Thirty years on, our palates are jaded. In the United States, Marilyn Manson was rock’s most controversial star in the 1990s, aiming to upset the US religious right. His pseudo-satanic posturing, transvestism and songs about sex and drugs garnered massive sales and a myth-laden notoriety. The literature that accompanies his sixth album, The Golden Age of Grotesque (Universal), makes whopping claims on Manson’s behalf. He is, apparently, ”the world’s only true rock star, poet and soothsayer”. It neglects to inform us if this means he knew in advance that his previous two albums would flop.Satirical website The Onion was quick to note his declining fortunes in a fake news story. The album’s opener, This Is the New Shit, concedes The Onion‘s point about the US’s new-found immunity to Manson: ”There’s nothing left to say anymore.” The only sure-fire source of US controversy these days is to criticise foreign policy. Instead, The Golden Age of Grotesque claims Weimar Germany as inspiration. Since lyrics about ”goose-stepping girlies” and ”the New World Reich” cause no uproar, attention is concentrated on the music. Despite Manson’s opening claim, his new shit sounds surprisingly like his old shit: a distorted amalgam of metal guitars, pounding industrial percussion, overblown glam-rock riffs and his gothic growl. That’s not always a bad thing. Doll-Dagga Buzz-Buzz Ziggety-Zag boasts frantic, Burundi-inspired drumming, chanting demonic voices and a guitar thuggishly bashing out one chord. The title track’s game attempt to fuse Kurt Weill oompah with nu-metal is preposterous. Single mOBSCENE features a kiddie choir squealing ”be obscene!”, a knuckleheaded riff and the line ”War-time full-frontal drugs sex-tank armour-plate.” It’s hard not to enjoy that sort of chutzpah.But mOBSCENE’s title emphasises the album’s other flaw. As his part in Bowling for Columbine proved, Manson is an intelligent, subtle ironist. Yet nu-metal has little time for intelligence or subtle irony. He panders too often to the lowest common denominator. Puns are signposted — mOBSCENE, (s)Aint — and much of the album is traditional angsty chest-beating. It’s hard to tell whether it is a knowing spoof or an earnest attempt to outrage that falls flat. Manson seems washed up: outrage just ain’t what it used to be. But if he wants to be rock’s most piquantly ridiculous satirist, his future seems assured. — Â