Issue #10: Placebo – Without You I’m Nothing

Released:  October 12th, 1998

Recorded:  Mid – Late 1998

Genre:  Alternative

Record Label:  Hut

Duration:  65:48

Producers:  Steve Osborne, Phil Vinall

Personnel

Track Listing

Singles

Why Without You I’m Nothing is One of My Favorites

Placebo’s music became a bit of a fixation for me after some of my mid-teenage angst settled down.  (You’ll get the slight joke if you’re a Placebo fan.)  There are several great moments interspersed throughout their first 4 albums (I lost track of their music after Sleeping with Ghosts) but as a complete body of work, I’d have to choose Without You I’m Nothing as my favorite (though you may see another album of theirs pop up in this series eventually).  In many ways this is a somber, whiny album; maybe you could even call it “emo” if “emo” existed back in 1998.  It’s also a highly personal album, and if you’ve been through your share of tough times, there’s loads of material to relate to.  I wish it had more upbeat moments to balance out the melancholy ones, but regardless, it’s a powerful album dripping with emotion.

I landed on this record at a confusing, unbalanced time in my youth; it wasn’t exactly a “bad” time, just a little difficult to sort out.  I’m not sure if music ever really helped in the sense that it fixed anything, but its honesty certainly comforted me.  Without You I’m Nothing sums itself up well in the title.  It’s about basing your entire life around that someone and realizing that the someone has taken everything with them when they leave.  One thing to glean off of these 12 tracks is that Mr. Molko has apparently had his share of damaged relationships, and Without You addresses multiple dysfunctions.

“Ask for Answers,” “Without You I’m Nothing,” “The Crawl,” “My Sweet Prince,” “Summer’s Gone,” and “Scared of Girls” all speak to loss in one way or another, most an absolutely crushing and devastating loss.  “Brick Shithouse,” “You Don’t Care About Us,” and “Every You Every Me” touch on the negative aspects of a relationship, particularly those of the underhanded and manipulative variety.  “Allergic” deals vaguely with environmental and religious concepts (I think), but I’ve never been too clear on what Molko was trying to get across with these rather cryptic lyrics.  “Burger Queen” is the saddest track of the album, a pretty straightforward tale about a young drug addict.  “Pure Morning” is the total oddball of the album and contains difficult to decipher lyrics as well.  A lot of interpretations can be drawn from the relatively simple verses, though I tend to think it speaks towards over-indulgence and an inability to maintain close interpersonal connections.  All told, Without You is an exceedingly sad 65 minutes, with just enough variety to keep it interesting.

“Pure Morning” kicks off the album with a decidedly electronic influence, and despite its booming drums, distorted guitars, and slightly nihilistic vibe, it really doesn’t represent the rest of the album.  Most of Without You is softer, with cleaner guitars and muted drums.  Catchy melodies give each track its distinctiveness and ultimately account for much of the appeal.  Molko has a talent for crafting memorable tunes while also keeping them solemn and downright sad.  Songs like “The Crawl,” “My Sweet Prince,” and “Summer’s Gone” have haunting melodies running through them, accompanied by varying degrees of subdued instrumentation.

Molko’s unique voice also plays a role in the melancholic feel of Without You.  His nasal whine won’t be to everyone’s taste, but it’s always reminded me of what a younger, androgynous Billy Corgan might sound like.  He doesn’t quite have Corgan’s strength behind him, but he does use this “whine” almost like an instrument itself.  What’s more is that the band even manages to make their instruments sound sad.  The guitar almost manages to cry at times (“Ask for Answers,” “Summer’s Gone,” “Burger Queen”), adding another layer of hopelessness to the record.  Molko produces a sort of broken innocence in his voice that drives the sadder songs to the heart of the listener; there’s pity, shame, inadequacy, fear, and sorrow all wrapped up in neat little snippets that manage to explore the issue of loss from every angle.  Never have I heard such a well-examined body of work on the subject of losing someone you care about.  It’s not pretty, it’s not dignified, and Molko isn’t afraid of showing how vulnerable and pathetic the end of a relationship can feel.  He’s not “getting over it” or “moving on” or “letting it go,” and a large part of me finds that hugely comforting in a world where we’re all told “it’s been long enough” or “she’s moved on, can’t you?” and similar epithets.

During “Brick Shithouse,” the band manages to briefly channel sadness in anger, but the other upbeat moments are rooted more in apathy than any sort of anger.  Whoever these songs are about, Molko must’ve found it difficult to be or stay angry at them, instead preferring to numb himself rather than logically assess what may have actually happened during these failed attempts at happiness.  “Every You Every Me” best exemplifies this with its nonchalant delivery of rather heavy subject matter such as, “my body’s broken, yours is bent” and “carve your name into my arm / instead of stressed I lie here charmed / ’cause there’s nothing else to do.”  He’s still hammering home his obsession and still willfully refusing to accept reality.  If you’ve ever pined for someone you couldn’t have, Without You manages to effortlessly put all those feelings into words.

Musically, I wouldn’t consider Without You I’m Nothing particularly groundbreaking or unique.  It’s a pretty standard guitar-bass-drums-vocals setup utilized in pretty standard ways.  The kicker here is how well Placebo tailored this commonplace arrangement to create dreamy soundscapes for their anthems of sadness.  They’ve got a real knack for composition, and it’s these melodies and chord progressions that draw me in.  It occupies that interesting area where it doesn’t exactly sound different from similar music, but there’s a hard to define quality that sets it apart as well.

Written by The Cubist

Other albums from Placebo in this series:

• 1996 – Placebo – Issue #77
• 2000 – Black Market Music – Issue#58-B

Back to The Cubist’s 90’s Albums

Written by The Cubist

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I collect as much video gaming paraphernalia as I can get my hands on, especially when it comes to hardware. With over 40 systems including oldies like the ColecoVision and Intellivision, obscurities like the CD-i and 3DO, and the latest and greatest including the Wii U, PS4, Xbox One, 3DS, and PS Vita, I get easily overwhelmed. Most of the time you can find me firmly nestled sometime between 1985 and 1995 when it comes to my games of choice, but I’m also having a great time seeing what the 8th generation has to offer.

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