It’s funny how, even after some three decades, you can retain the thought of a band as “new”. Perhaps it’s because, unlike the bands that first crossed my path as a teenager (Nirvana, Sonic Youth, Metallica), all of whom had albums out by the time I got to them, I came across Placebo right at the start – even before Nancy Boy propelled them into the spotlight – and, as a result, I can never quite shake the sense of otherworldliness that still surrounds the band’s debut LP.
At any event, here we are, some thirty years in, with the band now established icons, and that same self-titled blast of teenage angst rebuilt from the ground up for an anniversary edition that augments, rather than replaces, your battered original copy.
Featuring reworked and embellished versions of all ten tracks from the original album plus two bonus tracks, Placebo RE:CREATED is a celebration both of the album itself and the band’s subsequent career.
The Package
Housed in a six-panel digi-pack, this new set is primarily focused on the audio, with only the most marginal of booklets (containing neither lyrics nor contextual liner notes) and a transparent plastic hype sticker on the front.
However, alongside the revitalised original album, you do get two bonus tracks on disc one and, as an additional incentive, a second disc that adds four live tracks from 1997 and five demos from 1995. All in all, it paints a decent picture of the band’s early years without getting into the forensic detail found on some anniversary box sets.
Placebo RE:CREATED
Interestingly, unless you play the original beforehand, this updated version sounds pretty much as your memories would have you believe the album has always sounded. However, do a direct A – B comparison and you’ll soon discover that your memories have been leading you astray. Gone are the boxy drums that dogged the original recording, while the guitars now have a depth and texture that was simply beyond the experience and budget the band possessed back in 1996. As such, from the moment Come Home detonates, it’s clear that the band have done exactly what they set out to do: bringing the album up to date without removing the fundamental spirit that made the original version so special.
While, in many cases, I tend to prefer originals over remixes, in this instance, the sound of the album gels so perfectly with how I believed the album to have sounded for all these years that it will surely become my go-to version from here on.
There are impressive revelations to be found on every track. The fizzing harmonics of Teenage Angst are now far easier to decipher, while Brian’s voice sits much more comfortably within the mix. Turn it up and you can also enjoy the tom work that rumbles underneath the chorus. Truly, it’s amazing how many little details, hitherto hidden, you can now pick out from the mix and, at the risk of hyperbole, it really does strip back the years to the point that I’m a teenager once again, hearing these songs for the very first time – it’s a surprisingly emotional experience.
Next up is Bionic. With Sonic Youth always a key ingredient in the band’s DNA, the warmth of the new mix really brings home just how in thrall the band were to the likes of Goo and Dirty in those early years, combining imaginative guitar lines with a dissonance wholly absent from the declining Britpop movement to which the band found themselves spuriously attached. Similarly, 36 Degrees, always a powerful anthem in the band’s arsenal, gains considerably more power, with the hyper-fast guitars now packing a weight at which the original album only hinted.
Of course, it’s not all laser-guided riffs and it’s good to be reminded that, even early on, the band were incredibly dynamic, with the lovely Hang On To Your IQ a deliciously subversive ballad that finds Brian’s vocals swimming in an ethereal sea of reverb as Robert Schultzberg’s Jimmy Chamberlin-esque drums slowly break down your defences. Of course, the flip side to that is the blistering Nancy Boy which, always one of the band’s heaviest tracks, now positively explodes with devious vigour.
In contrast, with its eerie, ambient haze and dynamic shifts, I Know now has a post-industrial vibe to it, the guitars, when they do arrive, package an awesome punch. The same could be said of Bruise Pristine which, in this iteration, finds the ascending riff of its chorus surging with metallic fury. It sounds unbelievably urgent, triggering an adrenaline rush entirely in line with band’s live performances.
Another track that underscores the band’s arty inclinations, Lady Of The Flowers finds spoken-word vocals and trem-washed guitars vying for attention, and it’s easy to imagine that it was tracks such as this that first bought the band to David Bowie’s attention. The album proper then wraps up with the throbbing bass, swirling harmonics, and semi-heard vocals of Swallow. Always a hypnotic album closer, it now has a depth that causes the listener to truly lose themselves within its ever-shifting folds.
There are also two bonus tracks. Drowning By Numbers (originally a b-side to Come Home) is a very different beast to what has come before, with Stefan Ollsdal’s bass drawn straight from The Cure, although the fiery riff with which Brian lets loose drives the track in an unexpectedly ferocious direction. Last, but by no means least, H.K. Farewell (from the Teenage Angst single) is a subtle, slow-burning instrumental that nods to the soaring soundscapes with which Mogwai were dabbling at around the same period.
As I write the final words of this portion of the review, Placebo RE:CREATED is now on its third spin and I’m left somewhat shellshocked at just how effectively the band have sonically overhauled their debut. It truly does feel like something new, conjuring up that rare mix of nostalgia and excitement that I sometimes fear has been burned out of me by years of reviewing.
Always special, always otherworldly, Placebo’s debut is now the album that I always thought it was and it has been an absolute joy to spend the afternoon losing myself once more within its depths.
Bonus Disc
If the first disc successfully brought Placebo screaming into a new century, the second disc provides just enough context to understand the intent behind its creation, but it’s far from generous, clocking in at a mere 32-minutes in length.
Counter intuitively, it starts with four live tracks, all recorded in 1997, but with no information as to exactly where or when. While these tracks are OK, they have a tinny sound that is, at times, almost painful (especially Teenage Angst and Bruise Pristine), making them more of a time capsule than an enjoyable listening experience to which you’ll want to return.
This is a shame and it’s hard to believe that a band with such a high profile at the time didn’t have more and/or better recordings sitting in the archive. The fact that the decision was made to fade each out rather than stitch them together (hardly a difficult procedure) only adds to the sense that the bonus disc was treated as an afterthought by all concerned, with each of the four tracks sounding more like something taped off the radio than a serious anniversary release.
Of more interest are the demos, if only to confirm that the band’s vision was already fully formed back in 1995. Of these, Teenage Angst changed the least, with Brian’s multitracked vocal and Stefan’s rumbling bass-line all present and correct. It’s followed by a rattling 36 Degrees, which shows that the band needed a little additional studio magic to tame the too-loud leads that race across its surface and add depth to the vocal.
Then there’s perennial live favourite Nancy Boy which, with its slower pace, mildly different vocal melody, and conventional production lacks the punch of the final version. Led by Brian’s metronomic guitar, Bruise Pristine is all present and correct, while Swallow sounds even more like The Pixies covering Sonic Youth than its final incarnation, making it arguably the most interesting find on the disc.
All in all, while the second disc has a certain curio value to it, it’s hard to imagine all but the most hardened fan returning to it regularly.
Final Thoughts
In many cases, tinkering with a beloved album is either largely redundant (Nirvana’s In Utero 20th Anniversary release) or actively damaging (R.E.M. Monster).
There are exceptions, however. The subtle reworking of Pearl Jam’s Ten helped to remove some of the over-the-top reverb that hampered the impact of the original, while a remixed Momentary Lapse Of Reason achieved the same trick for Pink Floyd. In each case, you have to wonder how much the success (or failure) of a project is linked to the relative investment of the band. Here, with Placebo fully involved, their debut is given a new lease of life, and it sounds absolutely phenomenal.
While the second disc is somewhat lacklustre and the booklet almost entirely redundant, the value in this release is the remarkable reworking of the album proper and, whether you’re a long-term fan or a newcomer, it is delivered with such impressive potency as to prove essential – just don’t expect much by way of insight from the extras. 9/10
