Customer Reviews

September 000

5 star:		(6)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

...they might sound like the Secret Machines. This debut has a lot to offer in it's 28 minute running time. Tortoise and The Flaming Lips both come to mind while listening. Tortoise for the deft use of space in music, but more related to Pop than Jazz, and The Flaming Lips beacuse of the way the sweetness of these melodies transform an otherwise challenging listen into something you can play for a lot of people. September 000 will make you very excited to see what else these Texans can come up with.

I saw the Secret Machines open for Trail of Dead in St. Louis, in April 2002. I literally had no idea who they were at the beginning of their set...i thought they were the first band on the bill which we had tried to miss to shorten the wait for TOD. Within minutes I was breaking out in goosebumps and taken to that place you go where you're all alone with the music no matter how sardine-ish the situation is...i think i closed my eyes through most of the set. I thought of early Pink Floyd, but that's where all association stopped...they just take everything out of you and fill it up with music from somewhere up in the heavens. Scuse the mumbo jumbo, but they really did blow me away...look for an album in Spring 2004. Buy or die!

This is a great freshman effort from the NYC via Austin rock and roll upcomers. The sound is fresh, yet familiar. It's dark but energized. Best of all, it forshadows what is to come.

<a href="http://www.analogmoon.com" target="_blank">analogmoon.com</a>

Like the other reviewer, I first saw the Secret Machines when they opened for the Trail of Dead at Club Laga in Pittsburgh. The trio shuffled onto the stage, everybody on the floor of the club still talking and whatnot. Then the lights went down, and the whole stage was dark except for three intense white spotlights, one behind each band member. As their singer/keyboardist played the first notes of "Marconi's Radio", the whole room fell silent, and at least in the case of me and my friend, we were totally transfixed. We both agreed afterwards that the Secret Machines were going to be the next big thing in indie rock, and after hearing a few mp3s from September 000, I still believe it. They're like a more minimal Pink Floyd, in many ways. I would definitely recommend checking them out. Watch out for them in the future, they have a lot of promise.

I fell in love with the music of Secret Machines when my daughter got their CD at a concert (they were the opening act). Great cathartic music. September 000 is different (it's also, I think, their first) from some of the music I first heard from them, but it's still excellent. They strike, for me, a resonant chord of longing.

The past couple years have seen countless unknowns barreling out of Texas' scorched earth, like the bloodthirsty groundworms lunging for Bacon gristle in Tremors: Lift to Experience brought religious fanaticism to Spiritualized guitars; Stars of the Lid breathed hypercolor cinematography into stagnating ambient drones; and our boys in the Trail of Dead built a monument to indie's darkest string-shredders, delivering such visceral elysium it earned them their very own caravan of Deadheads. Folks haven't seen that kind of loyalty in those parts since Pee-Wee gumshoed for his hijacked Schwinn at the Alamo.

But it gets better with Secret Machines' freshly issued debut, which at last pushes America's waning psych-pop movement beyond the four-tracked Beatles bounce of the Elephant 6 crew. The trio draws from the same pool of influences that informs the Flaming Lips' recent work, and shares Wayne Coyne's talent for rapturous melodies. But where the mighty Lips rarely veer from psych-pop traditionalism, Secret Machines spend as much quality time with extended instrumental passages as they do with instantaneous pop hooks.

Secret Machines aren't completely innocent of the jam-band aesthetic that's colored so much of psychedelia's fluorescent history; they build repeating patterns and layer effects in crescendos taller than Chase Tower. Fortunately, these moments never come off like academic experiments in drum-circle theory or languid, aimless noodling. The band prefers a more engaging and concise approach to their epic sound collages-- these beasts never run past the four-minute mark, and all of them burst into glorious pop songs sooner or later. There's not even an ambling tabla/oud/sitar setup to contend with-- just the creative deployment of comfortably conventional instrumentation and textured sci-fidelity backdrops. But let's get hypothetical and imagine that these kind of build-ups aren't your cup of Godspeed. Hey, great! Those only comprise about a fifth of the disc's 28-minute runtime; the rest is a triumph of classic indie rock tradition: tuneful immediacy, thundering choruses, and forward-thinking ingenuity.

Recorded at Chicago's Clava Studios with producer Brian Deck, Califone guitarist Tim Rutili, and drummer Ben Massarella, September 000 sparkles with the intensity of the rhinestone bling the Secret Machines' Dallas hometown built its oil-playboy rep on. Some of Deck's recent work is marred by digital over-processing, but the subtle effects that underscore this record achieve a largely organic space-rock sound. Chiming keyboard tones communicate with the inventive creaks and whispers uttered by Ben Curtis' treated guitar, adding an abyssal depth to the hummable pop gratification that gives the disc its magnetic pull.

Two songs titled "Marconi's Radio" bookend the record. The opener builds from a sparse, repeating keyboard figure into a squalling burst of dense noise before U-turning into a beautifully arranged ballad where Josh Garza's taut, snapping drumkit collides with Brandon Curtis' plaintive vocals. The second version is a shorter, upbeat instrumental variation with chaotic junkyard percussion and intricate multilayers of ear-candy adornment. As sounds are piled on, the track quickly builds to a frenzied upset, and the rhythmic handclaps that punctuate its spirited melody erupt into enthusiastic applause. "What Used to Be French" is more immediate, with its pulsing bassline, wailing guitars and explosive chorus, but the three-minute burner "Breathe" comes away the clear winner-- a raucous, energetic pop basher that contends with (and to a large degree, sounds like) the best moments of the New Pornographers' Mass Romantic.

The Secret Machines recently relocated to New York City, presumably because they were tired of people referencing the Ewing dynasty in their reviews. But they're proud of their Texan heritage, and they should be. Life is finally emerging from its cracked soil, and I'm taking this disc as a sign that this new scene's prepared to produce enough great music to finally scrub the Fabulous Thunderbirds' greasy prints off the pop culture cerebellum. Grab those brushes, men, "Tuff Enuff" ain't coming off without a fight.

-Ryan Schreiber

1.) Buy this album. The Secret Machines are amazing.

2.) Hunt down a UFOFU album, and hear Ben and Brandon in the first stages of their musical careers.

They were amazing in UFOFU, and I had the privilege of attending countless shows when they lived here in Dallas...our loss is New York's gain. Check them out live if you get the chance.

i saw these guys open for Trail of dead, and they put on a great show, very good stuff, i was very pleased, if you can appreciate abstract indie, melted in with a touch of good ol rock, you can get into these guys

there's just not enough songs. and though the atmospherics make the album, there's as much buildup as there is payoff... an album with songs this epic should run an hour, but september 000 doesn't even hit 30 min. still, release it as an EP an i agree with the other reviews, it's awesome. this album comes off so naturally it feels like the secret machines just casually threw it together, but at the same time, it's totally crafted.

i thouht i put a review in, so please forgive me if i repeat a lot of what i thought i posted earlier, basically, a new band from a little known town called newyorkcity, pretty good stuff, fairly eclectic in the eyes of the indie scene, reminded me a lot of "the standard", great live show, i saw them open up for 'trail of dead', basically, by this album, if youre wondering , this stuff is not like 'trail of dead', yet nor is like the indie-pop stuff from the city i.e 'the strokes', check um out, you will do youreself a favor