BY GREG KOT
Chicago Tribune

Funny thing about rock 'n' roll villains -- eventually they all go legit.

Consider that in the early '70s, it was Black Sabbath, Alice Cooper and Kiss giving parents second and third thoughts about whether demon rock 'n' roll was about to steal their children's souls.

Now Ozzy Osbourne comes across as a slightly daft uncle doing the old soft shoe as he puts the original -- and still formidable -- Sabbath lineup through its paces on the recently released "Reunion" double CD. And Kiss, with its Kabuki greasepaint back in place and fire-breathing circus back on the road, and Cooper, with his golf game coexisting with his pet boa constrictor, now are more like cartoons than threats to the social order.

Current Public Enemy No. 1 in the rock world is Marilyn Manson -- he far outpaces any other performer when it comes to phone calls from concerned parents and legislators received by the Parents Music Resource Center in Arlington, Va.

Just the tip of a very dark iceberg -- there are countless bands in the metal and hard-core-punk undergrounds with a far viler message -- Manson is among the best at packaging and marketing his brand of pathology. His concerts have been banned, his CDs burned and his lyrics denounced by religious leaders, politicians and parents groups.

But with "Mechanical Animals" (Interscope), which recently debuted as the No. 1 album in the country, the mainstreaming of Manson has begun. If not exactly renouncing his earlier drugs-demons-deviant sex screeds, his hard-swinging, sometimes downright catchy tunes suggest he's got a sense of humor about them. He still strives for outrage -- anyone catch his neutered space-boy look at the MTV Awards? -- but in a calculated way that evokes the androgynous glam- rock of David Bowie and T. Rex.

Now the only people who are horrified are his hard-core fans, who can't believe Manson has fallen off the Beelzebub bandwagon.

Manson chatted while wrapping up sessions for "Mechanical Animals":

Q: So you really do have a sense of humor.

A: My records before, even at their most humorous, were only the blackest of sarcasm. This record isn't necessarily lighter, but it is more sardonic. It's based on things like the Beatles, Bowie, with a cold '70s futuristic element like "Clockwork Orange," Gary Numan, Iggy Pop's "The Idiot." The music is a lot more personal, about me finding myself in the world and trying to identify with humanity instead of fighting it.

Q: Did you feel the shock-rock persona interfered with your music getting its due?

A: I think it would be almost pretentious of me to cut back on the imagery. In fact, the image of the band will probably just intensify and things will become even more grandiose as we go along. It's part of living in Hollywood -- it makes you more theatrical. I used to be called "crazy" when I didn't have any money. Now that I do, I'm "eccentric." But I think the music is definitely going to be there to back it up.

Q: In your recent autobiography you talk about being inspired by 2 Live Crew. I had no idea.

A: I don't think their music affected me as much as the controversy that was boiling in Florida at the time. I didn't think anyone in rock 'n' roll was creating any sort of fuss at all. As far as music, I was more encouraged by the success of Jane's Addiction and the fact that they had put something more artistic behind their music. Back when I was listening to Kiss, I picked up records by the (rap pioneers) Sugarhill Gang and really liked them. It's sad where the music has gone since then, with artists like Puff Daddy regurgitating things that other people have created.

Q: And you're not?

A: Everything is borrowed. But I think you can be a little more original in the way that you borrow it. That's really the art of music. It's how well you hide your influences, and I don't think someone like Puff Daddy hides them too well.

Q: So in making yourself a "bad guy," you decided there was no point unless you took it all the way?

A: In making "Antichrist Superstar," the point was to become that ultimate villain in America. But I think it was for everyone to learn something, including myself. I think in some ways the media, the Christian right, were all part of what I created. They were elements in that record. It became a moment in history. And that all together is something I would call one big piece of performance art. Now to do it again would be senseless. At this point, anything I do is ironic. I could put on a sweater and have some daisies in my hand. I kind of put myself on the other side of the mirror, an alternate universe. I think I'm in a great position to do what I want now.