By Tom Gogola
Guitar School: Zim, how was it for you coming into this freak show?
Zim Zum: It's been very comfortable, actually. We're all around the
same age and we all basically grew up listening to the same music.
GS: What sorts of bands did you play in before?
Zum: I never played in a band that did any recording. I played with
local musicians in Chicago and I did a lot of recording at home.
GS: What was the experience of tryig out for the band like?
Zum: There were maybe 15 people there. I stood around most of the
day while one guitar player after the next went in. It was a typical mix:
you had an alternative crowd; five or six Twiggys in the room; a couple of
goth guys. I had no idea where I would fit in. I wore a black t-shirt and
black jeans. The weird thing was, Trent came into the room and said, "Good
luck." I figured, well, it's time for me to go. I went in and played 'Get
Your Gunn.' After I played it, I stopped and I didn't roll through the rest
of the songs. There was a spotlight in my face. It was the only light in
the room. And Manson and Twiggy and Pogo were sitting on a couch, about two
feet in front of me. I couldn't really see them. I stopped and walked around
the light and talked to them. I think it was probably from that point on
that I felt that it was basically done. Then I went to Bourbon Street and
did the whole New Orleans thing with a couple of the other guitar players
who had come out. I didn't get home to the hotel until about 7:30 in the
morning. Then I got a call at around 11 o' clock from somebody that sounded
as tired, if not more tired, as I was and it was Manson. We talked on the
phone for two hours about David Bowie and the Stooges. After that, I jumped
in a cab, met him for lunch and now all this. It's really weird.
GS: It must be a lot of fun.
Zum: If nothing else, I have five people that I'm really connected
with and really comfortable with. We spent two months in a rehearsal space,
stripped down, nothing miked, no PA and I just got used to playing with the
five of them. Now we take the same vibe and do it in front of people. I don't
get the thing about "the way Marilyn Manson was as opposed to the way he
is now," because the music is different-it's a little bit heavier and it
made it easier for me to come into something like this. Twiggy played most
of the guitar on the album, and he's a bass player, so he doesn't think like
a guitar player would: theory, noodling and riffs. It's all real attitude
and the basic tone.
GS: Where does the name 'Zim Zum' come from?
Zum: It's kind of a band thing.
Manson: We felt that since Marilyn Manson has almost transformed itself
into AntiChrist Superstar, he became a member of that entity and Zim Zum,
unlike the names of the other members of Marilyn Manson, is a Hebrew term
that refers to an angel thta was doing God's dirty work at the beginning
of time. We felt that since he joined the band to complete this tour and
continue on with us that he was doing the dirty work as well.
Zum: I knew it wasn't about the way I looked or the guitars I played
or anything. They listened to my tape-it was actually playing when Manson
called me. Most people think that there's this big image change that comes
along. They told me "You don't have to change anything. Just do what you're
doing now, and that's fine"
GS: You played in Chicago last night. Was that the biggest gig you've
ever played in your hometown?
Zum: Absolutely. We played at the Riviera, which holds about 2,500
people. It was the first time I've been back in Chicago since going down
to New Orleans for the first time. I think the entire mosh pit was people
that I knew, and relatives that I'd never met. I guess I was a little nervous.
But we had a good show-a very destuctive show, but a good show.
GS: Destructive?
Zum: Twiggy splintered a bass-it's toothpicks now. An SG, two of my
Marshall cabs, and one of Pogo's keyboards got destroyed.
GS: It sounds like you had a lot invested in this. Do you think that
your being in the band is some kind of cosmic happenstance?
Zum: Absolutely. The first time I talked to Tony, the road manager,
I said to him-and it wasn't cocky or anything like that-that if I got the
audition, I didn't want to come home. I planned on coming down and playing
and doing this. It was just weird.
GS: What kinds of guitars do you use?
Zum: The three main guitars that I play I made myself. I used to work
for a guitar manufacturer.
GS: Oh? Which one?
Manson: You're allowed to say it if you want.
Zum: I was actually fired from the place, so... Some of my guitars
are brand names. I have a couple of SGs.
GS: And you play through a rack?
Zum: Yeah. It's Marshall cabinets, a Marshall power amp head, a Marshall
preamp and effects processor. I have a Dunlop Jimi Hendrix wah-wah pedal
on the floor. I love them. They have a really good sweeping range and sound
great on 'Sweet Dreams.'
GS: There are three or four guitar companies in the Chicago area,
but if you're embarrassed about getting fired...
Zum: No, it's not embarrassing that I got fired. It's embarrassing
that I worked for them.
GS: Why did you get fired?
Zum: For not showing up.
Manson: This is what I heard, but he won't confirm it. He was caught
using a low-E string to auto-eroticize. He had it tied around his throat
while he was masturbating in the employee bathroom. You can print that. He
won't confirm it, but that's what I heard.
GS: How are your guitars set up?
Zum: The three I built are tuned to E flat for the first three songs
in the set; E for about 5 of them; D for 'Little Horn'; some B tuning, then
D for 'Beautiful People' and E all the way out. Straight E. The whole middle
of the set is standard tuning. The first three songs are flat. They're in
E on the album, but live, we play them lower.
GS: What were you going for when you were building those guitars?
Zum: I have a 1975 Strat at home that I absolutely love, but I don't
like to have a humbucker put into a Strat because it ruins the whole purpose.
I'm not into the pointy guitar stuff, either. I just wanted something thick,
a flat body, a humbucker, and volume. I took the neck humbuckedr out so I
can just toggle it off and so I don't have to worry about another set of
pickups that I never use. I like the feel of the Strat neck and the headstock
is comfortable. The neck is completely unfinished. It's a really comfortable
feel for me.
GS: So, what was the guitar company you worked for?
***
The show has ended, most of the fans have left and the stage is slick with
Manson's blood. While the band retires to its tour bus, techs and roadies
break down the set. After a spell, Zim Zum comes out to talk a bit more before
leaving for Detroit. He's still wearing his makeup-charcoal black around
the eyes, ghoul-white pancaking on the rest of his face. The soft-spoken
guitarist is clearly wound up from an evening of spine-tingling metal-industrial
excess.
"We had a good show," he says, sipping at a bottle of hard cider.
"When we play, it's about the five of us feeding off of each other, and people
feed off of that. It's just a vibe that starts with us and works its way
out to the crowd. What we're doing up here is really no different than what's
going on out there."
A young man approaches and pulls up his shirt. Drummer Ginger Fish
and Zim Zum's signatures are tattooed on his back. The thick black cursive
lines are lined with the typical raw-red skin discoloration that goes with
brand new tats.
Zim Zum is floored. He signed the kid's back the previous night.
"That's unbelievable," he finally whispers. Addressing the fan, he
adds, shaking his head: "That's very cool, but you're completely out of your
mind."
"I know," says the fan. "I don't care." He bounds off.
"That kid's had a busy day," says Zim. "I'm the more introverted one
in the band, and things like that... I'm usually of few words, so something
like that leaves me completely speechless. It's good to see. When I play,
I give just about everything I have, from the minute we hit the stage to
the minute we leave. They're giving it back to us. But that kind of devotion
is a lot to take in. I hope he's as happy about it in 10 years as he is about
it today. If it makes him happy today, I guess that's all that matters. Ten
years from now, who knows what any of us are going to be doing."
If Marilyn Manson has its way, we could all be dead. For Zim, if could
be even worse: "I'll probably be working in a record store."
