I tell you all now, I can’t bring myself to talk about this place as Manchester Central. Old habits die hard…
My first port of call that evening was an unusual one – the ticket office. The postal people being unable to find our address, they had elected to send the tickets to the box office for collection – a feat, we thought, because the GMex ‘box office’ isn’t open at that time of night. Fortunately we managed to acquire our tickets from a port-a-booth and we were on our way inside… Apart from my being stopped and having my camera confiscated. This is the reason for the small pictures accompanying this post – they were all taken on an iPhone. Despite this and an active crowd (and not to blow my own trumpet) I think they’ve come out all right – feel free to let me know via comment.
The first band out were the first support act, Silversun Pickups, a 4-piece Alt. Rock setup from Los Angeles. Leaping from bedrock to bedrock they’ve picked up a GRAMMY for Best New Artist, they’ve supported Placebo’s UK tour and they are off to help out Muse all around the globe almost right after this. The power of hype surrounds them and I’m a little apprehensive as they take the stage but they play a very honest, very eager and very active set. They’ve got energy and a real passion for being onstage – they’re chatting to the crowd, getting some cheers in for the next supports, The Horrors, and Placebo and flying around the stage with huge smiles on their faces. Even the sceptical 15-year-old faction at the front are nodding their heads appreciatively, which is a feat in this part of the world. There’s actually a large percentage of over-25′s at this gig – spread throughout the crowd, drinking and paying close attention to the stage. Silversun Pickups end to a full venue of warm applause and I decide that I like this band. They’re touring on ‘Swoon’, and you can listen through the Media section of there website here: Silversun Pickups
The gig tonight is interspersed with something called ‘Shorts TV’ – miniature ten-minute films shown on the big screens either side of the stage. The first is called ‘Going Underground’ and it features a woman getting on a train, then everybody dying, then… well, I won’t spoil the end. Apparently these are available from iTunes as well, and the money goes to… uh oh. It’s the good cause interlude – today, we’re looking at The Somaly Foundation. Now, don’t get me wrong, I like a good cause as much as the next person, but I just really, really don’t want Brian Molko to turn into Bono, because that would be a real tragedy – both for his music and my respect for the man in general. The video seems earnest enough – the Somaly Foundation, by all accounts, is against human trafficking. I decide to keep an open mind – supporting a charity is one thing, trying to solve world hunger by organising concerts as opposed to just “giving-the-countries-some-of-your-fucking-millions-of-dollars” (new tactic) is another…
The Horrors are on next, and they enter to a fair amount of teenage screaming. They are all dressed in black and proceed to wander about the stage looking confused before picking up their instruments and beginning to play. Faris Badwan meanders on, meanders around, then picks up the microphone and attempts to exorcise demons from the sound booth in the middle of the venue: he points and glares and mumbles and dances jerkily… or maybe he’s having a stroke? I’m not sure, but it’s kind of boring. It’s a pity because I quite like the Horrors new record. They also don’t seem to have made much effort – none of the band move more than two feet from their spot (apart from Faris, who continues to walk in a figure of eight and scratch his head) and they haven’t even bothered with a projection. No talking, no energy, and the lights, for some obscure reason, are facing outwards into the crowd not onto the stage where the band are. I am led to conclude that the reason for the darkness is so that nobody can prove they were really here as they exit to whoops and cheers – “Thank God they’ve finished,” says one of my companions, clapping enthusiastically at their departure.
There follows another section of 3 short films, one about a cockroach motel but for humans, an animated one about a disposable friend and a half-animated one about a proud Bruce lee miniature figure. I quite like the last one, although it does lead me to wonder if they’ve done it less for the charity and more to prevent the crowd from heckling the roadies as the change the sets over – only one or two things are thrown. It is a good tactic.
After a short wait, the lights go dark and cheering ensues, and the Battle For The Sun logo appears on the silk screen on the stage. Placebo stride onstageaccompanied by Fiona Brice, Nick Gavrilovic and Bill Lloyd as supporting instrumentalists. All six players wave to the crowd then launch right into ‘Ashtray Heart’, and the crowd goes a bit nuts. They follow swiftly with ‘Battle For The Sun’ and ‘Sleeping With Ghosts’, an ambitious opening but a welcome one nontheless. Brian Molko chats to the crowd about Manchester, and to my relief doesn’t talk about his charity effort but a bizarre dream about interpretive dance instead. He then launches the band into ‘Speak In Tongues’, and I have to say at this point that the light show going on overhead is stunning – I really regret not having my camera. The crowd are dancing and shouting and singing along all the way through an epically good live version of ‘Follow The Cops Back Home’ and even more so throughout ‘Every Me, Every You’ – the band are building a slow burning fever in the crowd, and nobody seems able to look away from the stage, even for a moment. Molko switches guitar every song and he and Stefan Olsdal are right at the front of the podium, waving their arms and playing for the audience.
There are a lot of nice live flourishes and touches here and there to every song, even the newer stuff – ‘Special Needs’ and ‘Breathe Underwater’ are heavy and unrelenting and it’s all really, really good fun. Molko seems unable to stop, frantically handing over guitar after guitar to his techs and looking as if he is in a trance.
He still finds time to interact with the electrified GMex crowd however, and you get the feeling that he’s doing all this for us, the fans, and that’s a good feeling. After ‘Julien’, ‘Never Ending Why’, ‘Blind’ and ‘Devil in the Detail’ we are treated to another highlight - ’Meds’. It’s played slower here, lower, and the noise seems to stun everybody – there’s less movement but I do observe one gentleman with his mouth hanging open at the stage. As Molko finishes on a growling moan, the crowd goes mental – and deservedly too. The first part ends on ‘Song To Say Goodbye’, and Placebo retreat for the tease before the encore. As the crowd catch their breath, it occurs to me that this has been more of a greatest hits vibe than an album tour but I think it’s better that way – nobody can complain after hearing Meds played like that onstage. There’s an excited buzz everywhere in the venue.
Part two begins with ‘Bright Lights’ in my opinion the only song played averagely. It’s a pity, but the memory is soon obliterated by ‘Special K’ and ‘The Bitter End’ – at this point the buzz is at fever pitch – all my companions and myself are dancing like idiots, as is everybody around us. It’s like some sort of biblical war. Placebo leave the stageagain to a huge racket… but the lights in the venue stay down, and the cheering stays on. A second encore?
Oh, yes – and I’m certain now they’ve saved the best for last. I’m not disappointed – ‘Infra Red’ is their next song played, and it is truly astounding. The live version is much more melodic and beat-y and bass-y and the crowd is now beside itself. For their last song of the night, they play ‘Taste In Men’, and at the finish all six players come to the front to hold hands and bow, panto-style. The heaving and roiling crowd are still shouting and clapping for minutes after they leave and as the lights come up we all leave dazed and enraptured, kicking along the thousands of bottles on the Gmex floor.
