"the whole world gets weak"
Secret Machines’ September 000 is a masterpiece. There are remnants here of Pink Floyd, the harmonies and experiment of Kid A and Amnesiac, and even the Stone Roses come to mind. But really it is Brian Eno who figures most heavily in their work. This CD is well done, but the live show is bombastic and subtle and beautiful.
Playing at North Six on a Saturday night, Secret Machines took the stage in total darkness before switching on bright lights underneath themselves. Then they proceeded to put on one hell of a show. The set was staged as one continuous song, punctuated with ambient music, mystery, and quixotic drum and bass. They were loud and aggressive. It felt like a war chant, a tribal rhythm, a wake-up call.
September 000 does not do their live show justice, but stands pretty well on its own. Consisting mainly of songs ranging from the six-minute mark to just a bit under three minutes, the CD is an investment of your time, but well worth it. It is quite possibly one of the finest crafted discs in a long time, especially considering the eccentricity and complexity of their music.
“Marconi’s Radio” begins with sparse tonal sounds with a slow (and I mean slow) building texture of layers, one upon the other. The vocals are meaningful and breathy, and this is the song that most reminds me of Floyd on the CD: “It’s hard to say nothing’s wrong when nothing’s changed / If God were here alone with me / I could say anything / I believe I can rest assured she’s quite the same.”
“What used to be French” is rhythmic doom interspersed with hope, a shifting quilt of sounds and melodies. “Breathe” is a low-key love ditty with a simple melody that incorporates a banging garagy-surfy sounding chorus. “Still See You” is a guitar-picking intro with a sudden shift to an alternative beat and, yet again, that rich textured sound comes into play. And “It’s a Bad Wind ….” is a haunting song with hollow-sounding bells, slow keyboards, and a good use of silence.
Secret Machines likes to juxtapose and experiment with sound. From multi-layered sound walls that crash down on you to silent moments when the world is fragile and ready to crack, the band takes you along at their own speed and shows you what they think is important.
There’s no good reason these guys aren’t huge right now. Check out the CD and go see them live when you can. It is more than a performance; it is— to quote one of my favorite movies— a reckoning.