The Automatik

“Take care and have respect for each other. Keep the faith and never let the sycophants and small minded people of this world get you down.”
-Statement from the official Placebo web site on the release of their single, “Special K”

March 11, 1999
The Howlin’ Wolf
Flick/Placebo

I just got back from my night with Placebo. The show was one of the better I’ve seen in the last few years.

After it was over, there were still people milling about, teenagers mostly, who were talking to my friend and I and this fey 18-year old boy we’d just met named Cliff. Before the show, he kept grinning at us, thinking we looked “cool” I guess, and eventually struck up a conversation with us. He was a sweet boy. We decided to walk to the back of the venue and try and get in to meet the bands. Flick, the opening band, who did an amazing cover of T.Rex’s “The Slider,” was hanging out. We chatted with them, and they were cool. We were telling the keyboard player that he looked like a young Mark E. Smith but with teeth. He was so young, he didn’t even know who Mark E. Smith was!

Then we went to the front of the venue and we kept encouraging Cliff to try and talk to Brian Molko, since he desperately wanted to. The band was on the tour bus, but we told Cliff that if you didn’t take chances, you’d never meet any of your idols. So finally, they came out, did a “meet and greet” with some radio people, and then came back a half hour later.

About eight to ten people were flocking around them, including this one tall, scary, and really drunk girl who was slobbering all over Molko and begging him to fuck her. She had sort of forced herself on us earlier, so it was a great surprise that suddenly she had developed a British accent! Molko acted coy and flirty with her, yet also condescending, and she was obviously intimidating him. It was really bizarre. I think she offended him, but he couldn’t pass up a chance at letting her fawn over him. Meanwhile, Stefan was talking to some other fans. He seemed like a nice guy.

At Cliff’s request, I asked to take pictures of them. Molko made me take one twice because he was blinking. I said I couldn’t get my camera to work correctly; it was being slow. He minced, “The quicker the better, darling, know what I mean?” I let that one slip by. I had no idea he was going to try and do an Austin Powers impersonation and I was rather embarrassed for him.

My friend and I were just standing and watching them “in action” and being amused. At one point, my friend asked Molko what Micko Westmoreland [who was Jack Fairy in Velvet Goldmine] was really like, since he “acted” in the movie with him. Molko said derisively, “Micko? Hey Stef, she’s asking about Micko.” Stefan scoffed, “Oh, he’s a wanker.” So my friend countered, “Well, according to Jeff Mc Donald of Redd Kross [with whom Placebo played several years ago] you called him textbook Beatles, so he thinks you’re textbook Rush.” Molko made some comment about Jeff McD being the one with the “pain in his heart.” Whatever that means.

After Molko extricated himself from the scary drunk girl, he went inside the bus. Later he came back out and was working the crowd of would-be groupies sitting on the curb. Cliff, meanwhile, was asking Molko very politely if he could have a hug. He had come in town with his mom just for the show and she had told him to be back at the hotel for 1:00 a.m., which was approaching fast. Molko whined, “No, I’m not giving hugs today, I’m not in the mood.” So I joked, “Oh, come on, give him a hug! He doesn’t have cooties or anything, Not like that girl you were talking to.” I meant it as a “Let’s laugh about how lame she was” comment. Immediately, Molko screwed up his face quite horribly and snorted, “HMPH!” He waggled his hand at me all aggravated-like and scurried away, grimacing and mumbling. I shouted across the street to him, “I’m so sorry I insulted the big rock star.”

What a total asshole! Too good to give a hug to his fan who’d traveled hundreds of miles just to see him? And couldn’t he even take a joke? My god, I was just teasing him, me, someone who matters nothing to him. What does he do when people in the British music press slag him? Cry? I was so amazed; I just couldn’t believe I scared him off. All the teens that were talking with us were freaked out, like they couldn’t BELIEVE I dared be mean to Brian Molko of Placebo. Whoop-de-shit.

We walked Cliff to his hotel room and he got some money from his mom ‘cos he wanted to check in with her and to eat. We got in my friend’s car and drove by the bus and noticed Stefan standing outside the bus door. I shouted, “Stefan! Stefan!” because I just couldn’t resist getting in one more dig at Molko. I pranced over to him and said, “I just wanted to tell you that you are really nice and it was a really great show, and to tell you to let Brian know that the girl in the leopard print skirt says….” Just then, Molko walked up, about to get on the bus, and sneered at me. I looked him dead in the eye and said, “And you’re no Jarvis Cocker.” He practically snarled at me and said, and I quote:

“Well, you’ve got a fat arse, so fuck off.”

And then got on the bus.

Pretty original comeback, huh? Good on ya, Molko! I knew the Jarvis comment would really push his buttons. And all he could think of was to insult my butt? Dude, I already KNOW it’s big. What a twerp. And the would-be groupies on the curb were laughing at me, like, “I’ll bet she feels so stupid, he just insulted her.” But the laugh was really on them for being so starry-eyed over such a pretentious little bitch.

I still like their music, though. If only they’d toss that lead “singer”…

UPDATE: 5.1.01

My Canadian connection Mike has given me some info that must be added to the tale (Molkospotting!)

It seems that Mike was tooling about town, wishing he could go to the Placebo show that night, but unwilling to shell out $30 to do so.

Who should he run into but Molko himself? Mike happened to be listening to Placebo on his Walkman, much to the amusement of our Poncey Friend Brian. Molko promptly added Mike to the guest list, delighted to meet one of his fans.

Mike showed up that night, fully expecting not to be on the list, but he was. In fact, he WAS the list. Molko was thrilled to see him and spent much time pushing away adoring fans, making out with some girl, etc.

Not one to let a potential bitch fest slip away from him, Mike brought up the whole “You’re no Jarvis Cocker” story. Molko DIDN’T EVEN REMEMBER the incident (I’m so offended) but was congratulating himself heartily for his “witty” comeback. “Well, she made fun of me first, didn’t she?” he asked.

Not much else of interest to report except that Molko told Mike that he “really likes” Pulp.

He’s still no J.C., though.

UPDATE: 5.22.01

After the House of Blues Placebo show on Sunday, Molko and his entourage went to the Shim Sham Club (my favorite nightspot). Someone asked my friend Chris, who works there, “Say, isn’t that Brian Molko from Placebo?” Chris, noticing the short-haired troll, confirmed his suspicions. It was rather crazy and busy that night, so the next little while passed without incident.

That is, until Molko became intoxicated and started acting increasingly “poncey” and “snippy” (sez Chris). He tried to hoist a barstool over his dwarfish head (in a fit of bi-curious, psuedo-goth rage, I’m certain) only to have the bartender grab it away and slam it down, barking, “That’s it. You’re outta here!” Molko and his entourage were “escorted” outside while Chris shouted, “You’ll never make an album as good as Kid A!” (Bless that boy!)

Molko didn’t hear him apparently, but immediately upon exiting, puked on the sidewalk.

Better stick to heroin, there, Bri.