It's only fitting that I bring the membesr of Placebo -quite possibly the most dysfunctional band in the world -to Lucky Cheng's in New York City, the most dysfunctional restaurant in the world. Serving Chinese fare with a twist, the wait staff run the gamut from drag queens to transsexuals, and it ain't exactly a family atmosphere. Unless of course your family consists of a bisexual American ladyboy on vocals, a towering and very out Swedish boytoy on bass, and a gorgeous English white boy with an insatiable taste for woman of colour on drums
Together, Placebo are one big happy family, and quite frankly, the best damn band to ever come out of Luxembourg. "I guess we're quite dysfunctional as people", singer/guitarist Brian Molko says as the cabaret-style drag queen show carries on behind us. "But in a lot of people's eyes, we represent total freedom on a sexual level, which is important. If we are a family, then we're a family for the future. It's quite timely that we are approaching a new millennium and hopefully in people's eyes there will be a certain redefinition of sexual mores and conduct."
It's quite possible, if our dining experiance is only an indication. A few Maker's Marks on the rocks and vodka/cranberries into our conversation. Molko consults with Miss Bianca, our appointed drag queen for the availability of lap dances....
Molko: Who's on offer for lap dances tonight?
Bianca: (pointing) I think that the girl at the maitre d' stand is
the one doing them.
Molko: Splendid. How fruity does it get?
Bianca: Do you want it fruity?
Molko: Honey, we want it as fruity as possible!
Placebo's gender-bending, hedonistic, and sometimes "fruity" ways are well- documented (they have openly discussed things such as the taste of semen and lavish orgies in their British press). But it's the music that paralyzes and shocks most convincingly. Their 1996 self-titled debut was a powerful teeter-totter of emotions and turmoil, set against the backdrop of some of the most piercing and focused guitar licks in recent memory. Their latest, the moody and chaotic 'Without You I'm Nothing', takes that protrait to the extreme. "There's a schizophrenic element to the album which really reflects out mindset over the past couple of years," says Molko. "It's a record about heartbreak and loneliness. 'Without You...' is a really desperate thing to call a record."
Said desperation is a craving for love, according to Molko, which sure beats what he craved at various points after the release of Placebo's first album, "A lot of bands go in and never come out the other side," Molko admiys. "But we went in and we'vw come out. We're much more comfortable with ourselves than we were before. Alcohol abuse and drug abuse bred my insecurity and self-loathing."
On 'Without You...', Molko confesses to heroin abuse, destroying relationships, and a hatred of Christianity, among other things. The topics he addresses in such song as 'My Sweet Prince' are extremely personal, amost to the point that it's painful to hear the sordid details that imspired their conception. "'My Swwet Prince' is about herion and attempted suicide," Molko recalls. "An ex-girlfriend of mine, when I broke up with her tried to kill herself; she wrote in make-up on the wall, 'My sweet prince, you are the one.' That song just dort of vomited itself forward in a way. It's about romance with a substance and a romance with a person and how both of them ended in complete disaster."
Another tune, 'Burger Queen', has it's roots in Luxembourg, where Molko and bassist Stefan Olsdal met at a private school when they were 10. The song, about being a gay heroin addict ina country where shaking your ass and chewing gum at the same time can put you on the receiving end of a pint glass to the upper jaw, is the loneliest song the band has ever written. "If you are gay or a heroin addict and live in Luxembourg, it's pretty bad," says Molko. "If you're both of those, you're fucked." Despite the seeming autobiographical nature of the song, Molko says it's not the proverbial rock- star self-examination. "I wasn't born by a Cesarean section," he saus referin to the line in the song. "But I'm teh first lyricist to ever get Cesarean section into a rock song!"
What all these emotions add up to is one of the most honest (and finest) rock & roll albums to surface this year. Not since David Bowie's 'Ziggy Stardust' era has a band dared to slap conventional views of sexuality in teh face so gracefully. It's a good thing Molko has at times been a self-described "moody cunt" to those around him. "I think I'm quite misunderstood in the way people think that all the bile and vitrol in the songs are directed at other people," he says. "What they don't understand is most of the songs are written by someone else's point of view and that bile and vitrol is directed at me."