By Jimmy Draper

TABLOID TURNERS, beware: getting a straight answer from the Prima Donnas isn't difficult merely because one of these Brit boys prefers the company of gentlemen. Asking this trio of gender offenders about themselves results in little more than verbal hopscotch around the faintest outlines of reality, and if their lyrics are to be believed, they're the motliest crew of turned-on, tuned-out schizo sickies this side of the coke-addled '80s. Of course they'll deny the allegations, but the discerning listener knows better. And knows better than to ask questions at all.

Three lads: Otto Matik, the jolly lean giant with one eye on the prize and the other on your thighs; the heartthrobbing centerfold Nikki Holiday (read: "vulnerable slut"); the ever elusive, ever reclusive Julius Seizure. Three loves: "We bonded over our love of drugs and sex and music."

Three wishes THE PRIMA DONNAS : the name connotes iconic greatness, and the group deliver. Their titles alone – "Skin of Another Man," "Six Years (Doin' Time in a Nightclub)" – are better than most artists' songs. And after all, when an average night in your life might involve couture murder mystery, singing severed heads, or all-night jet-ski rides for two, it's hard to be boring. Over the vast arid synthscape and collapsing beats of "Stoned like a White Balloon," lead singer Otto Matik details a few recent personal events, such as dinner with Coco Chanel (they had "Baked Alaska from Madagascar" for dessert). "Spent a summer at the Poconos," Matik sings, his voice spent and languorous. "Did you fall with your face in the snow?" keyboardist Nikki Holiday asks. Matik's reply? "I cahhn't remember, it felt December in June." So goes the tune. The synthesizer: the Prima Donnas don't merely add soul to the machine; they give it sex organs. Their synths throb. For Matik, "Four O'Clock in the Morning" is an ideal time to start a meaningful relationship; as keyboards conjure a state similar to sleep-deprived hallucination, he pops a few unknown pills and sweetly utters this come-on line: "I'd like to take you to my apartment / And lay you down in cold bath water / And fuck you like a dead body." Hours before, he and his bandmates were probably dancing; as "Song for All the World's Children" (an outsider's desperate search for that magical musical place where he belongs) makes clear, they're not afraid to boogie with the boogeyman. Entering clubs filled with "glorious intoxicating opium smoke," Matik, Holiday, and Julius Seizure waste no time getting down: to business (another come-on line: "I'd like to know how much you are") and to the freaky zone. But they aren't without a serious side. "Reagan's Dead" is perhaps their most potent attempt at a political anthem. "It's 1998, Reagan's dead!" Matik announces with panic and excitement. Seizure steps to the mic with "FUK," a lager lout's declaration of war against America. The Prima Donnas walk through the fires of irony and pastiche into their own new world of fab ferocity. It's a multifaceted place, glorious and horrific. It's the site of timeless Shangri-la melodrama. The epic, celestial "Lavender Shakedown" presents a philosophical-romantic duel: Matik's seasoned sneer versus Holiday's suav-itive, tremulous, meta-Depeche (is that a sob or a kiss caught in his throat?) croon. Holiday is always chasing rainbows. Matik is heartbroken and horny. Ultimately they team up, and the world's a better place because of it. Other all-boy acts may dominate glossy magazines today, but only the Prima Donnas offer "Konstant Attention" to a listener. They might be lying – on "Love You, Schizo Sickie" Matik gets sideswiped by a mentally deranged paramour. Yet, to paraphrase a great man, the Prima Donnas' lies tell the truth. As Matik declares on "Nance Music Manifesto," "No more helpings of Skin So Soft applied to your penis when you're all alone." These boys have enough love for all the world's children. Johnny Ray Huston

They met as youngsters in a U.K. orphanage where, according to Holiday, "we were a rough bunch but took music hour very seriously." Yearning for all the guts and glory of new wave, the teens fled the watchful eye of Father Heathcliff and ended up rubbing shoulders (to put it discreetly) with the everybodies-who-are-anybodies of the seedy Sussex nightlife. After an equally infamous sojourn in Texas, they arrived at their destination unknown – Washington State – and, donning their shiniest skintight slacks and throwing back a drink or 12, Matik, Holiday, and Seizure quickly put the sleaze back in the Northwest scene. Just don't ask them about it.

Bay Guardian: What role, musical or otherwise, does each Prima Donna fill in the group?

Nikki Holiday: Otto is the one who pimps his ass for us onstage, and does something called singing.

Otto Matik: Nikki is the George Harrison of the band. We aren't sure what he does really except add a little part every twenty seconds of a song or so. Julius is the Ringo of the band. He is cute and attracts the motherly instinct in the young girls and their mothers. He gets sent lots of baked goods from the fans and drawings of him holding puppies.

NH: How we love our Julius, but so many problems even Gary Coleman never had.

BG: So which of you spends the most time preening in front of the mirror before a show?

NH: That would be Julius. For a person who claims to be on the path to "inner beauty," he definitely looks in the mirror a lot. Maybe he's meditating or something, I'm sure I don't know. Also, he's got more hair and worse eyes than we have.

BG: Whatever became of the Win a Date with a Prima Donna contest?

OM: It was great! We acted as our own judges for the competition and eventually called it a tie and each took out as many of our fans as we could to be fair. I still have three pages of names to go not counting the ones I want to see again. I know Nikki's already had to go to the clinic four times, and Julius keeps withdrawing three hundred dollars out of his bank account, but he won't tell me why.

BG: And were there many disappointed gals hoping for a romance with Nikki, or boys longing for a night with Julius or Otto?

OM: Not disappointed ones! Have you ever seen that movie Parent Trap? We have perfected the old switcheroo over the years.

BG: Speaking of switcheroos, Otto, Gene Defcon seems to be ripping off your suave Mr. Fancy Pants shtick. Are you planning any legal action to thwart his thievery?

OM: Look, I hated Kramer vs. Kramer and Legal Eagles as much as the next bloke. I'm not about to buy any lawyer his Astroglide for this week. I don't even know who this Gene Defcon is. I am sick of the question. Who the fuck is Gene Defcon, and do I care? No.

BG: But you all lived in Texas at the same time, so you must've come face to face with him back in the day.

NH: I think I might have met him once at a party. Looked like an olive, and his manners were worse.

OM: No, I try to look at only attractive people. I get depressed if I don't.

BG: And finally, Duran or Depeche?

NH: They're old friends of ours, so you see, I don't like to say. Upcoming Primadonnas releases 7-inch of "Cocksucking Machine" on Paintcan Chaneliener; a CD of their live performance on KVRX-FM in Austin, Texas, on Business Deal.

return to top | sfbg.com