Placebo - Astoria
What is going on? Placebo have a single and an album in the top ten of each respective chart, no not the indie chart but the actual nationwide charts, and are playing to a sold out Astoria for two nights in a row. What is their secret? How did they rocket up to this position in the music world from being mere obscurities floating around in the musical ether?
I remember first hearing about Placebo in the summer of ‘95 (I’m not a total trainspotter, honest) when they had released ‘Bruise Pristine’ on an independent label. They went on to sign a record deal that was apparently worth Ł1 million and released three more singles before their current one. The album arrived around June last year and is a masterpiece of ‘alternative’ indie.
At the Astoria the lights dim and the venue is swathed in purple light that circles the arena in great arcs. An oppressive apocalyptic rhythm shudders through the air and continues for what seems like an eternity. The crowd’s restlessness is reaching its breaking point, when Placebo finally arrive to a rapturous welcome, something that has been missing from many of the band’s I’ve seen recently. The lead singer, ‘Brian Molko’ (you’ll be hearing a lot about him from now on), is dressed in his customary black and is wearing his obligatory eyeliner though this in no way associates their music to gothic in any way. They kick off with the chopping grating guitar infused pogoing frenzy of ‘Come Home’ and the jumping does not relent as ‘Bionic’ follows. Brian seems to be voicing his concerns about people dehydrating in the heat of the atmosphere but as soon as he says, "...normal body temperature is at 37.5 degrees’, you suddenly click, it’s time for ‘36 degrees’, and the whole place screams along as everyone susses at the same time. They hurtles through ‘Bruise Pristine’ and ‘Hang On To Your IQ’, with Brian’s self inflicting anti -rock line, "With a tool this small, it seems like I have no tool at all".
At one point an object is thrown onto the stage narrowly missing Brian, and he lashes back at the culprit chastising him as ‘small minded’ with supportive cheers from the crowd. You get the feeling that many of the fans are dedicated hardcore followers of the band (unusual for a venue this large), not just of the music but their beliefs and attitude as well. They save ‘Nancy Boy’ for the end and predictably the whole place goes bezerk. They soon come back for the encore and ignore all the desperate shouts for ‘Slackerbitch’ and ‘Miss Moneypenny’ and instead play a gentle song about a sad little man in Luxembourg. Brian and the bassist swap instruments for a final instrumental thrash out wall of noise with the bassist’s eyes (or lack of eyeballs) epitomising the very essence of evil.
The crowd surfing is more subdued than expected but I reckon no one wanted to have to end up at the back of the hall. Placebo leave and an emptiness, as though bereft of some vital need like oxygen, seeps in and has you begging for just one more song, just one more.
Jason
