Holy Wood (In the Shadow of the Valley of Death)

1	Godeatgod 2:34
2	The Love Song 3:16
3	The Fight Song 2:55
4	Disposable Teens 3:01
5	Target Audience (Narcissus Narcosis) 4:18
6	President Dead 3:13
7	In the Shadow of the Valley of Death 4:09
8	Cruci-Fiction in Space 4:56
9	A Place in the Dirt 3:37
10	The Nobodies 3:35
11	The Death Song 3:29
12	Lamb of God 4:39
13	Born Again 3:20
14	Burning Flag 3:21
15	Coma Black: Eden Eye/The Apple of Discord 5:58
16	Valentine's Day 3:31
17	The Fall of Adam 2:34
18	King Kill 2:18
19	Count to 6 and Die 5:55

Barnes & Noble

If you thought Marilyn Manson's side trip into glam was an indication that rock's most renowned hate-seeking missile had gone soft, this headlong dive back into the acid bath of wild-eyed industro-goth will put some extra darkness into the blackest corners of your heart. While certainly more nuanced than the pretenders who've emerged in the band's shock-rock wake, Manson's crew don't spare the rod when bashing listeners with the punishing riffs of "Death Song" and "King Kill 33 Degrees." It's not the musicianship, however, that's been the contributing factor in uniting this particular Manson Family -- it's the over-the-top Satano-libertarianism espoused by the artist formerly known as Brian Warner. He really outdoes himself on Holy Wood, which manages to provoke thought as well as knee-jerk reactions on post-Columbine manifestos like "Disposable Teens" and "The Nobodies." You want blasphemy? Manson delivers on "The Lamb of God" (not to mention the hackle-raising Jesus figure on the sleeve). You want "you kiss your mom with that mouth?" vitriol spewing? There's plenty of that on "The Love Song." One element Manson retains from Mechanical Animals is the boredom-relieving dynamic sense that allows for the insertion of acoustic interludes, such as the sullen "A Place in the Dirt." Their presence adds a bit of portent to the proceedings, making Holy Wood seem more like a thought-out conceptual piece than a mere tantrum. David Sprague

All Music Guide

In 2000, Marilyn Manson not only was recovering from his fans' rejection of Mechanical Animals, he was scarred from Columbine and, worst of all, he was no longer America's demon dog. What was Brian Warner to do, standing on such uneasy ground? As a smart man and savvy marketer, he knew that it was time to consolidate his strengths, blend Omega with Antichrist Superstar, and return with a harsh, controversial, operatic epic: a vulgar concept album to seduce his core audiences of alienated teens and cultural cops. The resulting album, Holy Wood (In the Shadow of the Valley of Death), is intended as the third part of the trilogy beginning with Antichrist Superstar, and its convoluted story line is fairly autobiographical, but the amazing thing isn't the story -- it's that he figured out to meld the hooks and subtle sonic shading of Mechanical Animals with the ugly, neo-industrial metallicisms of Antichrist. Consequently, it's easy to see this as the definitive Marilyn Manson album, since it's tuneful and abrasive. Then again, much of its charm lies in Manson trying so hard, perfecting details in the concept, lyrics, themes, production, sequencing, the tarot card parodies in the liner notes, the self-theft, the self-consciously blasphemous cover art. There's so much effort, Holy Wood winds up a stronger and more consistent album than any of his other work. If there's any problem, it's that Manson's shock rock seems a little quaint in 2000. Eminem's vibrant, surrealistic white-trash fantasias were the sound of 2000, while Marilyn Manson's rock operas, religious baiting, and goth gear are from an era passed. It's to Warner's credit as, yes, an artist that Holy Wood works anyway. Stephen Thomas Erlewine