"Remember me whenever noses start to bleed," sings pouty cross-dressing sex bomb Brian Molko.  Now, I remember Brian Molko for a different reason. I remember him from the time I showed an interview in a magazine - a magazine nowhere near as good as this one - to a friend of mine who pointed at Mr. Molko and explained to me that he’d "give her one."

I had to explain that, to mis-quote Lou Reed, 'she' was a 'he'.  My friend didn’t believe me, so I played him their eponymous debut album - the one with the little kiddy in the red coat pulling a face like Droopy Dog from the cartoons - to him.  Nah, he said, after hearing Molko’s nasal whine, this is definitely a woman. In the end, I had to throw him out before he started humping the CD case.

Which brings me to this record, some 10 years after their debut album. Very much like everyone’s first ever driving lesson, it starts quite promisingly, gets into second gear, and then doesn’t go anywhere for what feels like 50 minutes. It’s typical Placebo.  Mr. Molko whines about feeling sorry for himself, throws in a couple of sexual references that are supposed to be arty but instead sound like a dirty old man in a wig, and the guitar goes "jing-a-jing-a-jing" like all their bloody songs.  I counted two chords in the whole song - no, wait - there are three, and that one’s a minor chord.  Quite apt really, for indie rock’s very own Status bloody Quo.

"Remember me whenever noses start to bleed." Someone got noses and ears confused, didn’t they?
(1/5)