Photo credit: JB Mondino
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Miracles were in short supply on July 11, as several stood outside the Palace in Hollywood, hoping someone had a spare Placebo ticket to give away or sell. Things didn't look good for them, as the show had been sold out for some time, and the guest lists were tighter than a virgin prom date.
Why was this such a hot show? It wasn't like Placebo had a hit song on the radio, as the London trio did in 1998 with "Pure Morning" (you know the refrain -- "a friend in need is a friend indeed/a friend with weed is better…"). It wasn't as if the band had been earning weekly NME coverage overseas, prompting excitement by the attentive Britpop crowd in Los Angeles. And, to be frank, it's not that its fourth album, Sleeping With Ghosts, is such a remarkable album. Like its predecessor, Black Market Music, the tunes are uneven, despite the welcome return to the mood-swinging glam sound embodied on its 1998 classic, Without You I'm Nothing.
No: Placebo, through prior touring, has developed not only a rabidly devout following comprised of music fans from all walks of life, but it has cemented a reputation as a devastating live band. Furthermore, its lead singer, the often sexually ambiguous Brian Molko, exhibits a charisma that commands your attention and compels you to egg him on further. Throw in a knack for passionate tunes, as well as creating an atmosphere that evokes maximum rock 'n' roll through rapid-fire lighting displays and resonant guitar riffing, and of course a single night stand in Los Angeles is going to draw a crowd that exceeds attendance capacity at the theater-sized Palace.
Those who got in were eager to show their excitement. As soon as the trio walked on-stage -- aided by two other hired hands for bass, guitar and keyboard assistance -- the crowd surged forward and began the crushing sway so familiar to festivals and concerts featuring craze-inducing cult acts. And to solidify its status as such an outfit, the band launched into the crunching instrumental that also kicks off Sleeping, "Bulletproof Cupid", and it was readily apparent the lovefest was underway.
Placebo couldn't have been any smarter when it came to the order of the set list, an artform most bands can't seem to be bothered to perfect. For instance, rather than launch into a few new tracks, Molko and crew smartly opted for two of the better rockers from Without You -- "Allergic (To Thoughts of Mother Earth)" and "Every You Every Me" -- riling up the crowd even more.
From there, the band eased into the material from Sleeping, which, judging by the focus and enthusiasm exhibited in its performance, seems to be a work Placebo is quite proud of. That tracks picked from that album weren't just rushed through, like filler in between older favorites. In fact, it felt like the opposite. Whereas some of the assumed back-catalog set list supporters, such as "Pure Morning" and "Without You I'm Nothing", sometimes revealed a bored band, newer numbers like "Special Needs" and "English Summer Rains" exploded like firecrackers onstage. "This Picture", one of the band's best songs, was especially rapturous. Even when the album's first single, "The Bitter End", began to sound a bit sloppy -- for one, the keyboards were barely audible -- the rendition was anything but rousing. The excitement of the players was readily evident, and as a result, the audience responded similarly.
Molko can take credit for most of the electricity felt during the 90-minute concert. The man doesn't waste a movement or breath; he exerts himself physically and vocals with little self-indulgence, save a few middle finger and "fuck" punctuations in between verse lyrics. He effortlessly connects with the crowd because he doesn't half-ass his performance, whether attacking his guitar, storming the stage's edge for closer fan interaction or even having a go at the harmonica, as he did in "Protect Me From What I Want". In the past, Molko might've fallen back on Ziggy Stardust-like flamboyance and concentrated more on gender-bending expressionism. But on July 11, he came out fighting, offering his punchier, dare-we-say butch side, the crowd screaming at his every move. It lent more oomph to the politically oriented material from 2001's Black Market Music (evidenced in a blistering "Slave to the Wage"), as well as the slower numbers.
After the somewhat chaotic, set-ending "Special K", Placebo reemerged for the first encore like gangbusters with a particularly groovy rendition of "Taste In Men", aided largely by pro-active bassist Stefan Olsdal and always-locked-in drummer Steve Hewitt. The second encore was equally resplendent, this time with the aching "Centrefolds", Molko offering some of the best singing of the night.
However, neither moment compared to the guitar glory of set list closer "Where is My Mind", a Pixies cover that earned perhaps the biggest response of the night. Fans had either been paying attention to reports from earlier shows -- the set list in Los Angeles mirrored that of other tour stops -- or they merely spotted a forcefully melodic kinship both bands seem to have. Any way you look at it, the interpretation was yet another memorable Placebo cover, as well as an able closer that didn't so much end a brilliant performance as it did officially inaugurate another rock 'n' roll night in Hollywood.
Another NYC buzz act, Ambulance, opened the show with its vampy style of modern British rock. Singer Marcus Congleton evoked the vocal style of Badly Drawn Boy's Damon Gaugh through the 45-minute set, while the band behind him offered a more tepid version of early '90s Brit bands like Suede or shoegazing fare. Other than one falsely rebellious keyboard tipping, the musicians were largely immobile and distant for the sake of coolness -- something that might work for other Gotham bands like Interpol or the Strokes, but came off as background music here. The culprit? Lackluster songwriting, bereft of the magic and tunefulness of not only Ambulance's inspirations, but also the band it was opening for.
— 29 July 2003
