Evil travels light these days. From the airwaves, it drifts like a subtle toxin, incessant and insidious. You can hear it in the dutty spiel of rappers, in the glum shtick of goth singers. Turn the dial, choose your depravity.

This, at least, is the conviction of hundreds of thousands of (often frighteningly influential) individuals across the the world. As though freshly disembarked from a time machine, they despise and are terrified of rock music, believing it an agent of subversion, a battering ram for the debauched forces of liberalism. A threat to everything pure and god-fearing. And they want to stop you listening to it.
How often has music’s corrupting touch reached you already this morning? Let’s do the math. At breakfast, you played the new 50 Cent album, the one where he brags about the number of times he was shot. Boom boom boom – chunks of your morality fell away like masonry in a bullet storm.
Later, as you drove to work, Emimen cropped up on the radio. No swearing – but he dropped several blunt innuendoes about Christina Auguilera and something like an unclean thought formed at the back of your mind.
During lunch hour you walked past a bunch of kids in Slipknot t-shirts. One may have been emblazoned with a profanity. It’s difficult to be sure. You were too occupied quietly praying for redemption. In heaven, a working knowledge of pop music is a flogging offence. Just ask the Pope.
“They try to shield you from what they perceive to be the bad things in life,” the controversialist and metal singer Marilyn Manson tells hotpress.
“For me, going to a private Christian school, the images I was exposed to in the Bible were no less horrifying or nightmarish than what you might find in, for example, a novel by William S Burroughs.
“It is in man’s nature to be violent – there are dark things out there – and we should not pretend the world is anything other than what it is. The point of art is to help us learn and grow from our experiences. That’s true of the Bible, but it's equally true of other types of expression.”

The hysteria of the moralists might be dismissible as the outpourings of cranks whose brains have turned mushy from being pressed too hard against a pew were they not so numerous or powerful.
Yet their reach will not be denied. Censorship of music, especially in the United States, is so commonplace now it has begun to be regarded as almost mundane, while artistic freedom is seen as something vaguely unpleasant and old-fashioned, one last 1960s hangover living out a borrowed existence. The noose has been tightening.
“America is one of the least free societies in the world when it comes to self-expression,” says Manson resumes. “When I travelled abroad and was trying to articulate my artistic vision, what I could at least say of America was that we had freedom of expression. However, it turns out that that isn’t the case at all.”
The extent to which open expression is routinely shackled in the US was underscored last year by ‘Nipplegate’, the gone-in-a-blink flash of Janet Jackson’s breast that scandalised suburban America during Super Bowl half-time.
In the controversy’s wake, US conservatives declared open season on freedom of expression. As the clamour for a crackdown on the wicked forces of progressivism raged, Capitol Hill kowtowed to the pressure, raising the maximum fine for public broadcasters breaching decency guidelines to $500,000 per transgression.
For three time offenders there was the threat of the Federal Communications Commission revoking their license. The ultimatum was chillingly clear: mess with us and we’ll shut you down.
What followed was an abject rush to capitulate by US broadcasters. Any subject that could be deemed even vaguely contrary to good taste got shelved. One channel yanked the Oscar-winning film Saving Private Ryan, fearful that complaints from the public could land it in the FCC dock.
However, censorship of the creative arts has begun to assume guises far more insidious than a few cancelled late night movies.
Over the past two decades it has been a creeping menace, subtly draining the music industry, in particular, of much of its edge and vitality. Few institutions worked harder to sap the spirit of music than Wal-Mart, the US retailer with a turnover greater than the GDPs of many mid-ranking European states (if Wal-Mart was a country it would be China’s eighth largest trading partner).
It is Wal-Mart policy not to stock albums bearing ‘parental advisory’ stickers, on the grounds that, as it is a family store, it would be inappropriate to sell music of an adult nature (that Wal-Mart should simultaneously flog millions of rounds of live ammunition each year is an irony probably lost on everyone connected with the corporation).
The arrival of a new Wal-Mart usually rings a death knell for other traders in a town, giving it a monopoly on the sale of music. This, argues civil liberty campaigners in America, imposes particular responsibilities on the company.
“Being refused access to Wal-Mart shelves has literally the same practical effect in many communities as outright government censorship,” says Nadine Strossen, President of the American Civil Liberties Union.
Nevertheless, Wal-Mart is unflinching in its zeal for promoting ‘moral’ music. In some cases, CDs are altered to bleep out “bad” words. Changes to sleeve imagery are also insisted upon. For instance, the cover of a White Zombie disc, Supersexy Swingin’ Sounds, was cleaned up by airbrushing a bikini onto a nude model reclining in a hammock (although no naughty bits were visible in the original). A song on the back of Primitive Radio Gods’ Rocket CD is identified as 'Motherfker' in record stores but as 'Mother' at Wal-Mart.
Wal-Mart censorship is often creepily subtle. The chain has declined to carry Sheryl Crow’s latest album because she chides the company for allegedly selling guns to children. The figures of Jesus and the Devil flanking John Mellencamp on the cover of his record, Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, are airbrushed out of the copies available at Wal-Mart. Mellencamp reportedly approved the change in the interest of maximising sales.
The corporation naturally denies its influence is a sinister one.
“We do not talk to artists, we do not go to the recording industry and say you have to do a, b, and c for us to sell your product,” says Betsy Reithemeyer, a spokesperson at Wal-Mart headquarters in Arkansas. “If a manufacturer wants to sell their product in Wal-Mart, they have to meet certain standards. If a manufacturer chooses to place a warning label on their merchandise, we have to look at that and consider it. If they want to put two CDs out on the street – one with one set of lyrics and one with another – that is certainly their choice.”
But for some, not even Wal-Mart is strict enough: in a remarkable new twist in the censorship world, last month the parents of a 13-year-old girl announced they were suing the giant over a record by rock group Evanescence that contains swear words. Their lawsuit alleges Wal-Mart deceived customers by not putting warning labels on the cover.
“I don’t want any other families to get this, expecting it to be clean. It needs to be removed from the shelves to prevent other children from hearing it,” said Trevin Skeens, who claimed he was shocked to hear expletives on the LP he bought for his daughter.
His demands – that Wal-Mart censor or remove the music and pay damages of $74,500 for every customer who bought the CD at Maryland Wal-Marts – may sound absurd to European ears. In the United States though, selling records with swear words is viewed by a growing majority as a dangerously subversive act, a riposte to all that America embodies.
“Three cheers for Wal-Mart,” says Senator Joseph Lieberman, a campaigner against the ‘corrupting’ influence of the entertainment industry . “Some of the rap music and other music is just the most violent, anti-woman, pro-drug stuff that I’ve ever heard."

For Irish musicians, the issue raised is whether America’s culture of censorship could be exported here . There have certainly been portents. Last November Tesco, the biggest retailer in Ireland, asked publishers in the UK to submit magazines for approval before they went on sale.
According to industry sources, Tesco requested changes to the editorial content of a number of magazine, including Bizarre, which is published by Dennis, home of Maxim.
One British publishing executive worries that the chain stores will begin to exercise growing control of what magazines write about.
"It is a form of censorship and, ultimately, this is about freedom of speech," he observes. "It already happens in America and when I heard about this I thought 'Here we go'."
Others however, are sceptical about the likelihood of artistic censorship gaining a toe-hold in the continent George Bush calls Yurp.
“America isn’t like the rest of world,” says Steve Wall of The Walls. “It’s supposed to be a free society but, really, it isn’t. They have a tendency to overreact to everything there. It doesn’t follow that people in this country will behave in the same way. Recently I was in LA where I got talking to a woman who had been surrounded by armed police men when she walked out of her house one morning. They forced her to the ground and hauled her off. It turned out to be a case of mistaken identity but it gives you a sense of how they tend to go over the top.”
Censorship isn’t always a denial of an inviolable liberty, adds Aisling Reidy, director of the Irish Council For Civil Liberties. She points to the homophobic lyrics of artists such as reggae star Beenie Man, whose songs often resemble a gay-basher’s manifesto (and for which he has been blacklisted by MTV).
“There is a place for censoring music. In any society there is a hierarchy of freedoms,” she says. “Obviously the most important is political freedom. Artistic freedom features high up too, but there must be a balance between being allowed to express oneself and to say things which may endanger others. There will always be a conflict between freedom of expression and the need to prevent people from peddling hate. Of course the danger is that you draw the net too wide and are not discriminating enough in what you keep off the airwaves. That’s when things become sinister."
Preaching against censorship in every guise is a spurious gesture, agrees Marilyn Manson.
“If you are an artist like me, censorship is important because it shows you the boundaries. It tells you what people are afraid of, it highlights their taboos. You know what their symbols are and this allows you to challenge them.”
In contrast to the United States, this country has tended to adopt a mature, reflective outlook towards profane and explicit language in music, argues John Clarke, head of 2FM.
“As far as censorship goes in 2FM, well there isn’t any,” he asserts. “We don’t bleep out parts of songs or blacklist artists. We ask our producers to reflect on the audience that is listening and to play songs that are appropriate. There are no blanket bans on any kind of music. With a controversial song, there will very often be a radio edit with the rude bits taken out and we’ll play that.”
Clarke is unmoved by the claims of performers such as Eminem that the toning down of lyrics represents a corruption of their art. If they care so much, he asks, why not foresake radio altogether?
“These guys are happy to do radio edits of their songs," he argues. "If censorship was really such an issue, if they really felt the need to stand over their art form, then they don’t have to do that. But of course, the truth is that these people want to have careers, they want the money and the exposure and therefore they’ll do the alternate versions. Some rap artists in particular seem to be more interested in selling baseball caps, so it’s hard to take seriously their claim to be repressed musicians.”
Marilyn Manson agrees with Clarke in this respect: that by assenting to radio cuts musicians are collaborating with the censor and dangerously undermining the creative process.
“Unfortunately most artists are so hungry for the prize they are willing to play the game,” he resumes.
“They want to get on MTV, they want to hear their songs on the radio so they are prepared to deliver compromises. This shows a huge degree of naivety. They think they are getting under the radar, when in fact they are allowing themselves to be treated as just another product.”
Ironically, pressure from Wal-Mart and its ilk has fuelled a vogue for gratuitously controversial music. For many musicians, a row with Middle America is a passport to notoriety and kudos amongst hardcore fans. Nothing underscores one’s outsider credentials like an admonishment from ‘the man’.
“Controversy for controversy’s sake has always struck me as really tragic,” says Steve Wall. “For a rock musician in particular, using swear words in your songs is really twee. If you want to be subversive, there are other ways of going about it. In this country, I think we’ve gone beyond the days when that stuff shocked us. When you hear someone saying ‘f’ this or ‘f’ that on the radio, you tend to think they are really immature.”
John Clarke agrees: “One needs to be wary of music that is outwardly very shocking. You have to ask yourself – are they using this language because it’s the only way of getting across their message or are they trying to draw attention to themselves?”
Irish broadcasters operate in a regulatory regime far less authoritarian than that of the United States. RTE producers are reminded to abide by general standards of good taste, while independent broadcasters must ensure they do not offend common decency.
While the Broadcasting Complaints Commission has lately slapped down both Eamon Dunphy’s Newstalk 106 breakfast programme and The Late Late Show for transgressing acceptable boundaries (the former for a skit on the dying Pope, the latter for airing a rant about religion by comedian Tommy Tiernan) music rarely crops up on its radar.
“We get far more calls complaining that this or that song was rubbish than about offensive lyrics,” says John Clarke. “Recently for example, Dave Fanning played 'Chelsea Hotel' by Leonard Cohen. Now that song is about oral sex and Dave explained beforehand that it was of an adult nature. The track went out in the early evening and no-one called to say it was objectionable. Our listeners are sensible people.”
To advocates of free speech in Ireland, the biggest concern may be the creeping influence of American monoliths such as Wal-Mart (its UK subsidary, Asda, is rumoured to be considering an Irish venture) and Clear Channel, owner of a majority of independent radio stations and music venues in the US. It was Clear Channel, which has ties to the Bush administration, that pulled the plug on the career of the Dixie Chicks after they criticised the war in Iraq. The corporation has a stake in the Point Theatre and radio interests in Britain. Is a silent takeover imminent?

Those fearing the worst will not have been comforted by the recent withdrawal from British airwaves of a Reebok commercial featuring 50 Cent. In the ad, a camera slowly pans in on Fiddy as one of his rhymes plays on the soundtrack: "Shot nine times in Jamaica Queens. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 6 . . . 7 . . . 8 . . . 9 . . . Tell me, who you planning to massacre next?” Then, 50 Cent laughs, kicks up his personalised Reeboks and stares straight into the camera as the tag-line, "I am what I am,” appears on the screen.
Following complaints from more than 50 viewers, who said it glorified the rapper’s violent past in the ghetto (the former drug dealer was shot nine times in a drive-by assault), Reebok junked the spot. Has US-style censorship finally fetched up in Europe? Who will be next to capitulate?
Yet the outlook is not entirely bleak. We can draw hope from the growing militancy of the artistic community. Recently rapper Eminem announced plans to launch a digital radio station, removing himself from the confines of terrestrial broadcast.
“Once upon a time not too long ago, the Feds wanted all my music off the air,” Eminem said in a statement. “Now we’ll be on [satellite radio] 24 hours a day, playing the best hip-hop ... not just from [Eminem boutique label] Shady Records, but from everywhere.”
For others a more esoteric route presents itself. Marilyn Manson says he is determined to exist as a ‘concept’ rather than merely a musician, to reinvent himself as a lodestone for freedom of expression and the confrontation of taboos. The anti-Manson backlash that followed the Columbine high school killings (one of the teen gunman owned several Manson albums), has convinced the singer that his mission is as much sociopolitical as artistic.
“The reaction to Columbine showed me how pathetic this country [the US] has become in many ways. People didn’t care about morality. A lot of the stuff that was aimed at me was motivated by money. They thought they could promote themselves by getting at me. For me, sitting back and watching it from afar, it brought it home how pathetic and disgusting our press had become. Whether it’s Fox News or CNN, it became evident that their purpose was to entertain rather than to inform. When you combine this with the rise of reality television, what you get is a hugely voyeuristic society."
As far as Manson is concerned, the answer is clear. No longer is it enough to be a force in the entertainment industry. Marilyn Manson needs to percolate into the bloodstream of Middle America. The message is what matters. Not the manner of its delivery. With a greatest hits album behind him, he is rethinking the fundaments of what he does.
He says: “You have to be out there, where people can see you. Anyone who says they want to remain underground is full of shit. If you want to say something you have to have the power to make people listen. You can’t do that from the underground. For me, what I need to do is remain an artist. It’s not enough that people think of me as a heavy metal singer or a painter or a writer. Marilyn Manson needs to exist in the abstract."
The singer says he is prepared to die for his right to gnaw at America’s subconscious fears. Having received death threats in the aftermath of Columbine, he insists this is not an empty boast.
“That interview with Michael Moore [for Moore’s documentary Bowling For Columbine] took place an hour before I had to go on stage with numerous death threats. When I look back at the footage now I seem totally calm. But at the time, there was some nervousness there. I had to come to terms with the possibility that this thing I was doing could get me killed. It was at that moment that I realised I was ready to die for the right to speak about the things that I believe in.”

Coming Friday on hotpress.com: Ed Power's full interview with Marilyn Manson.