Our subject is a five-piece band from the Fort Lauderdale area of southern Florida, an area
previously best known for its death metal scene. By all reports, it was founded sometime in 1989,
when a restless photojournalism major with a dark exacting take on American culture and a
notebook full of poem/commentaries met an equally restless guitarist-composer with five bands
behind him and an itch to do something really different. Lyrics and music clicked, and the pair joined
forces. The writer's first move was to change his name. Immersed for months in tabloid TV shows,
he had decided on one that he felt displayed the entire spectrum he wanted to project, borrowed
from two classic icons of the 1960s: Marilyn Manson. The guitarist, full of enthusiasm for the
project, followed suit and became Daisy Berkowitz, setting the pattern for all members of the band
to come.
By 1990 they were Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids: Manson singing and Berkowitz as lead
guitarist, plus Gidget Gein on bass, Madonna Wayne Gacy on keyboards, and a nameless drum
machine. (They'd had a bassist before Gein, but he reportedly quit after playing just one show, and
eventually became vocalist for local metallers Collapsing Lungs. What name he used in his brief stint
as a Spook is apparently unrecorded.) Among their gigs for that year was one which would have
far-reaching consequences: they opened for Nine Inch Nails on their summer tour. NiN was still
embroiled in the TVT battle, and Trent's ownership of his own label was a long way off, but he liked
the young band ("It must have something to do with both of us coming from the Midwest," says the
Ohio-born Manson, though probably only a relocated Floridian would consider Mercer, PA,
Midwestern) and became its informal mentor.
The Spooky Kids tossed a wide range of theatrical, visual, and shock devices into their rapidly
evolving stage presentation. Anything might turn up, from a Lite-Brite (TM) toy arranged to read
"Kill God" or "Anal Fun" and peanut-butter-&-jelly sandwiches tossed from the stage, to caged or
crucified girls, skinned goats' heads, nudity and arson. Manson might wear an entire outfit of stripes
or a woman's bathing suit while playing Charles Manson soundbites or reading from "The Cat in the
Hat". Gacy had a little booth marked "Pogo's Playhouse" standing over his keyboard (he had
already adopted child-killer Gacy's clown pseudonym as his own nickname). Berkowitz might play
in skirt, halter and long blonde wig, guitar worn low and cigarette hanging off his lip, born to the role
of cute debutante gone bad. Anything was fair game for maximum effect.
It's hard to be this flexible while tied to a programmed rhythm track, so in 1991, the Spooks retired
their drum machine, an event celebrated by a jubilant little newsletter. Illustrated with a mixture that
would become a band trademark - Manson's morbid cartoons and band caricatures, altered Dr.
Seuss figures, guns, needles, and characters from "Scooby-Doo" - it welcomes Sara Lee Lucas,
who is credited with "baked goods and percussion". The addition was a good one, and the band
began to draw notice. They were writing and performing songs that are still staples of their repertoire
today, including "Cake and Sodomy" and "My Monkey". (They carried lunchboxes, too.) By the
time South Florida's Slammies, designed to offer recognition to the overlooked thrash, hardcore and
"hard alternative" scene, held nominations for its first award show in 1992, the Spooks' fan following
was large and vocal enough to get them nominated for both Best Hard Alternative Band and Band
of the Year.
Some of that fan loyalty is almost certainly due to the band's direct efforts to connect. They issued a
newsletter; designed and distributed elaborately illustrated concept flyers for shows;[Image]
Another means of staying in touch, and one that's perhaps more interesting to current fans, was the
band's series of self-produced and self-marketed cassettes. It's difficult to get exact dates on these,
but the first was apparently 1990's "big black bus", named for the vehicle used by the original
Manson Family - Charlie's, that is. An entire side of this was reportedly taken up by answering
machine messages, a practice the band has never abandoned. "big black bus" may have been
followed by a phantom title, "Snuffy's VCR" (no documentation yet nailed down); it was definitely
followed by the very real "Refrigerator", "Lunchbox", "After-School Special", and "The Family Jams"
cassettes, the last in 1992. (That's another original Manson reference.) Produced and mixed by the
multi-capable Berkowitz and decorated with more of the above-mentioned idiosyncratic artwork,
these little gems feature the first recorded versions and variations of "Cake and Sodomy", "Dope
Hat", "Lunchbox", "My Monkey", "Dogma" (as "Strange Same Dogma"), and "Cyclops", along with
a wealth of otherwise unavailable originals. Though produced in tiny batches - "Refrigerator" was an
edition of only 100 copies - and sold only at the band's shows and in local record stores, the
cassettes still prove the Spooks' determination not only to be heard but to be presented on their own
terms and maintain complete creative control.
By 1992 the name "Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids" had apparently become too awkward,
and was trimmed to just Marilyn Manson. This caused some temporary confusion with the lead
singer's given name, but after tossing it around a little (he's credited as simply "M. Manson" on the
"Refrigerator" cassette and as "Mr. No Name Manson" on "The Family Jams") he settled on the
semiformal Mr. Manson for general purposes.
The fans had no problem with any of this. They turned out loyally in the voting for the 1993
Slammies, piling up a stack of nominations: Band of the Year, Best Hard Alternative Band, Best
Local Release (the "Family Jams" cassette), Song of the Year ("Dope Hat") , and even a Best
Vocalist nomination for Mr. Marilyn Manson. "Dope Hat" won in its category, and the Mansons
collected their first Band of the Year award. --Mr. Manson also added a memorable touch to the
ceremony as presenter of the Best National Release award, which went to Saigon Kick for "The
Lizard". To a chorus of boos from the crowd (home-state fans considered SK to have abandoned
them at their first touch of national fame), Manson ascertained that there was no representative to
collect their engraved ceramic skull, and simply tossed it into the moshpit, where it was stamped to
bits. (Amusing side note. Manson had a cohort in this small crime: the Slammie-winning rhythm
guitarist for local metal band Amboog-A-Lard, a close friend of Manson's. Within the year he would
undergo a magical transformation...)
The summer of 1993 was a busy stretch for the Mansons, who picked up not only their first
Slammies but a genuine recording contract. Having finally won a measure of independence from
TVT, and launched his own label, nothing, Trent Reznor had offered the band nothing's first contract
plus a support position on his upcoming "Self-Destruct '94" spring tour. Both were accepted, and
they headed into Criteria Studios to begin recording their first LP, "Portrait of an American Family."
The sessions, however, didn't go well. The band was unhappy with the results they were getting,
feeling that the sound was being smoothed and polished out of all recognition. Manson: "I thought,
'This really sucks.' So I played it for Trent, and he thought it sucked." Reznor, supporting the band's
decision, took over the reins, and they spent seven grueling weeks of fifteen-hour days in L.A.'s
Record Plant, tearing down, repairing, even recreating parts of "Portrait" from scratch. (Reznor is
credited as Executive Producer on the LP.) In January 1994, the project was finished and presented
- doubtless with a collective sigh of relief - to Interscope, distributor for nothing.
