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MANSON’S BOYS
GARBAGE AT AVALON


Derek Lowe’s no-hitter wasn’t the only thing electrifying Lansdowne Street last Saturday, thanks to Scottish supervixen Shirley Manson and her band Garbage. Although the Wisconsin collective were touring behind last year’s Top 40 electro-pop-leaning album Beautiful Garbage, they kept the energy crackling with an Avalon show that let loose with balls-out, bulldozing rock and roll.

The responsibility for keeping the rock hard fell on the shoulders of the group’s talented producer-musicians: drummer Butch Vig, guitarist Duke Erikson, and bassist Steve Marker. "Hammering in My Head" was transformed into a Nine Inch Nails–style industrial onslaught; the uplifting "Parade" relied more on its melodic hooks; "Vow" and "Not My Idea" pulverized with ferocious riffs. Even tracks exploring what Manson called the band’s "pop-tastic" side flexed plenty of muscle: "Cherry Lips" sounded powerful when augmented by guitars, and the disco-leaning "Stupid Girl" morphed into a bass-heavy stomp replete with a masturbatory guitar solo and sampled snippets of Missy Elliott’s "Get Ur Freak On." Only when the band paused for Beautiful’s slow-tempo ballads — "So like a Rose" and "Cup of Coffee" — did the show sag.

But it was Manson herself who pushed Garbage’s set over the top. Sporting a platinum-blond buzzed mohawk and ruby lips along with a sleeveless white undershirt and white low-slung pants, she dominated the stage with her androgynous sex appeal. Like Annie Lennox, she toyed with her sexuality, slinking like a prowling cat during "Push It," karate-chopping through "Special," mimicking a hip-hop b-boy during "Shut Your Mouth." And she captivated the crowd with her banter, whether thanking fans for showing up or lamenting that legal considerations prevented the band’s listening to a CD handed to her by a hopeful fan. Yet her vocal contortions also deserved attention. "When I Grow Up" cascaded into an impressively high range, and elsewhere she cooed like a mid-’80s Madonna or Pat Benatar, proving she’s no pretty-face figurehead.

Openers Abandoned Pools, with ex-Eels jack-of-all-trades Tommy Walter on vocals, were at their best when adding different flourishes to their rigid-riffed, Smashing Pumpkin–like assaults. Unexpected dynamic changes, artsy electronic swatches, and even some scratching added intrigue to Walter’s otherwise generic alterna-rock. Their rendition of Björk’s "Army of Me" was an especially painful listening experience.

by Annie Zaleski

Issue Date: May 2 - 9, 2002
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