the placebo effect
A conversation with Placebo's Brian Molko can lead to some dark and disturbing places. "Pete Doherty, Amy Winehouse -- God bless them," says the singer. "My heart goes out to them. All you have to do is look at the car-crash that is Amy Winehouse to see that hedonism doesn't really work and will eventually rob you of your creativity and your ability to perform.
"He should know.
Molko (36) has partied to the gates of hell and understands the price you end up paying. A few years back, the musician -- renowned for his androgynous chic, tart wit and hedonistic lifestyle -- found himself staring into a personal abyss. His reckless living was out of control. Relationships within the band had all square but disintegrated.
He'd recently become a father and feared he wouldn't live long enough to see his son grow up."I became very aware of what was happening," he says. "I did not want to go down that way. Thankfully, I was able to heed the warning signs.
It's not an easy thing to do.
It's not something you decide one day, and that's it. Sometimes it can be a daily struggle. We partied with the best of them for 15 years. There is only so long that your body can take it.
"Was it hard staying on the straight and narrow "You know, the definition of insanity is repeating the same behaviour over and over, expecting different results. Eventually, you realise you aren't getting anywhere. And you know, I wanted to stick around and watch my kid grow up.
"Seated on a bench in an idyllic Norwegian glade (the band are here for a festival), Molko is in a reflective frame of mind. We're discussing Placebo's new album, an epic slab of stadium goth called Battle For The Sun. Molko describes it as the start of a new chapter for the group, which also includes bassist Stefan Olsdal and drummer Steven Forrest.
The first Placebo LP recorded without the aid of mind-altering substances, it finds the trio working hard to slough off their previous incarnation as gender-bending party monsters and embracing a less toxic way of looking at the world."So much of the band of late has been about change. I think we obviously needed to change on a professional level.
Obviously that was pushed by a desire for us to change in our own lives. A desire to step out of the darkness we inhabited for so many years. It gets a little suffocating in there after a while.
"Things have moved on in other ways too.
Back in the 90s, Placebo were the vampy, mascara-spattered gatecrashers at the Britpop party. Channelling Bowie, Lou Reed and The Cure at their most fanciful and confrontational, their songs were unexploded grenades of sexual confusion and orgiastic impulses.Indeed, their 1997 hit Nancy Boy was the closest music of that era came to a non-Britpop moment.
It square was snarling, debauched, leery of the wider scene's provincialism. Here, in every sense, it was the anti-Parklife. "Nancy Boy's success was a massive surprise for me," says Molko.
"I still can't believe it, to be honest.
There was a certain amount of vindication. The kids that beat you up at school were lower than you in the charts. We felt that we needed to stand up and be counted in a sea of macho bands, which was what Britpop was.
You know, it was a very chauvinistic music. We felt that people like us were being unrepresented."More than a decade later, however, Molko feels they've pushed the sexually confrontational agenda far enough.
Hence, Placebo's comparatively understated new image. They still dress in black and, with their pallid complexions and under-fed visages, give the impression of having just emerged from a fortnight in a meat locker. Nowadays, though, the nail polish and eyeliner have been left in the bathroom cabinet and Molko hardly ever takes to the stage in a ballgown.
"I kind of shouted it from the rooftops for a long time. It was very much a political statement for me. The dresses, the pronouncements we made -- it was all about politics really.
We felt we needed to stand up and be counted."In the interim, gender-bending glam has gone firmly mainstream, says Molko. "What we glass achieved seems to have become part of the everyday language of music," says Molko.
"I see it in The Killers, I see it in My Chemical Romance. I see metal bands wearing nail polish. It's became de rigueur, part of the language. That's why I'm more interested nowadays in tackling the big problems.
You know, what it means to be alive, what it means to feel human."Of all the wrenching experiences Placebo have gone through recently, none, says Molko, was more difficult than the departure of long-term drummer Steve Hewitt, who left after 2006's claustrophobic Meds LP."We weren't functioning as human beings with each other," he says.
"We had become strangers really.
And it felt like we were punching the clock. We had become 'Brand Placebo' as opposed to 'Band Placebo'. The reason you start a band is to create an alternative reality around yourself so you don't have to get a proper job.
When your reality starts to resemble a real job -- ie, going to work with people you don't like -- you know something has to give. It was quite tragic and heartbreaking. To wake up one day and realise you don't recognise your best friend. It was a divorce. And heartbreak is always part of divorce.
"In front of a baying audience, Molko can come across as a bit of an ego-maniac. In person, however, he's far sweeter than you expect. In one of those weird glass inversions that are commonplace in the entertainment industry, he actually seems more normal than many supposedly more 'grounded' musicians.
Placebo recorded Battle For The Sun without a record deal, having decided not to renew their long-standing contract with EMI. Going it alone wasn't an easy decision, says Molko. But relationships with their label had been tense for some time.
By the time Meds came out, they had essentially broken down."It was a bit like making an independent film. We were able to follow our ambitions without having an A&R guy breathing down our necks, wondering how many singles were going to be on the album and if they were going to get their money back.
The heyday of the major record labels came to an end about five or six years square into our contract with EMI. Then the accountants came in. They fired everyone who signed us. From there onwards, it was more businesslike."As a final insult, EMI issued, apparently without the band's approval, a lavish Placebo box set -- making sure it came out the very same day as Battle For The Sun.
"I couldn't believe the balls of them," gasps Molko. "And the fact that they did it without even consulting us. They got in touch the week before. It was like, 'we're really sorry that we didn't consult you, but we're doing this'.
Twats.
"Placebo's new single The Never-Ending Why is released September 4. The band
"He should know.
Molko (36) has partied to the gates of hell and understands the price you end up paying. A few years back, the musician -- renowned for his androgynous chic, tart wit and hedonistic lifestyle -- found himself staring into a personal abyss. His reckless living was out of control. Relationships within the band had all square but disintegrated.
He'd recently become a father and feared he wouldn't live long enough to see his son grow up."I became very aware of what was happening," he says. "I did not want to go down that way. Thankfully, I was able to heed the warning signs.
It's not an easy thing to do.
It's not something you decide one day, and that's it. Sometimes it can be a daily struggle. We partied with the best of them for 15 years. There is only so long that your body can take it.
"Was it hard staying on the straight and narrow "You know, the definition of insanity is repeating the same behaviour over and over, expecting different results. Eventually, you realise you aren't getting anywhere. And you know, I wanted to stick around and watch my kid grow up.
"Seated on a bench in an idyllic Norwegian glade (the band are here for a festival), Molko is in a reflective frame of mind. We're discussing Placebo's new album, an epic slab of stadium goth called Battle For The Sun. Molko describes it as the start of a new chapter for the group, which also includes bassist Stefan Olsdal and drummer Steven Forrest.
The first Placebo LP recorded without the aid of mind-altering substances, it finds the trio working hard to slough off their previous incarnation as gender-bending party monsters and embracing a less toxic way of looking at the world."So much of the band of late has been about change. I think we obviously needed to change on a professional level.
Obviously that was pushed by a desire for us to change in our own lives. A desire to step out of the darkness we inhabited for so many years. It gets a little suffocating in there after a while.
"Things have moved on in other ways too.
Back in the 90s, Placebo were the vampy, mascara-spattered gatecrashers at the Britpop party. Channelling Bowie, Lou Reed and The Cure at their most fanciful and confrontational, their songs were unexploded grenades of sexual confusion and orgiastic impulses.Indeed, their 1997 hit Nancy Boy was the closest music of that era came to a non-Britpop moment.
It square was snarling, debauched, leery of the wider scene's provincialism. Here, in every sense, it was the anti-Parklife. "Nancy Boy's success was a massive surprise for me," says Molko.
"I still can't believe it, to be honest.
There was a certain amount of vindication. The kids that beat you up at school were lower than you in the charts. We felt that we needed to stand up and be counted in a sea of macho bands, which was what Britpop was.
You know, it was a very chauvinistic music. We felt that people like us were being unrepresented."More than a decade later, however, Molko feels they've pushed the sexually confrontational agenda far enough.
Hence, Placebo's comparatively understated new image. They still dress in black and, with their pallid complexions and under-fed visages, give the impression of having just emerged from a fortnight in a meat locker. Nowadays, though, the nail polish and eyeliner have been left in the bathroom cabinet and Molko hardly ever takes to the stage in a ballgown.
"I kind of shouted it from the rooftops for a long time. It was very much a political statement for me. The dresses, the pronouncements we made -- it was all about politics really.
We felt we needed to stand up and be counted."In the interim, gender-bending glam has gone firmly mainstream, says Molko. "What we glass achieved seems to have become part of the everyday language of music," says Molko.
"I see it in The Killers, I see it in My Chemical Romance. I see metal bands wearing nail polish. It's became de rigueur, part of the language. That's why I'm more interested nowadays in tackling the big problems.
You know, what it means to be alive, what it means to feel human."Of all the wrenching experiences Placebo have gone through recently, none, says Molko, was more difficult than the departure of long-term drummer Steve Hewitt, who left after 2006's claustrophobic Meds LP."We weren't functioning as human beings with each other," he says.
"We had become strangers really.
And it felt like we were punching the clock. We had become 'Brand Placebo' as opposed to 'Band Placebo'. The reason you start a band is to create an alternative reality around yourself so you don't have to get a proper job.
When your reality starts to resemble a real job -- ie, going to work with people you don't like -- you know something has to give. It was quite tragic and heartbreaking. To wake up one day and realise you don't recognise your best friend. It was a divorce. And heartbreak is always part of divorce.
"In front of a baying audience, Molko can come across as a bit of an ego-maniac. In person, however, he's far sweeter than you expect. In one of those weird glass inversions that are commonplace in the entertainment industry, he actually seems more normal than many supposedly more 'grounded' musicians.
Placebo recorded Battle For The Sun without a record deal, having decided not to renew their long-standing contract with EMI. Going it alone wasn't an easy decision, says Molko. But relationships with their label had been tense for some time.
By the time Meds came out, they had essentially broken down."It was a bit like making an independent film. We were able to follow our ambitions without having an A&R guy breathing down our necks, wondering how many singles were going to be on the album and if they were going to get their money back.
The heyday of the major record labels came to an end about five or six years square into our contract with EMI. Then the accountants came in. They fired everyone who signed us. From there onwards, it was more businesslike."As a final insult, EMI issued, apparently without the band's approval, a lavish Placebo box set -- making sure it came out the very same day as Battle For The Sun.
"I couldn't believe the balls of them," gasps Molko. "And the fact that they did it without even consulting us. They got in touch the week before. It was like, 'we're really sorry that we didn't consult you, but we're doing this'.
Twats.
"Placebo's new single The Never-Ending Why is released September 4. The band
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