Secret Machines

On Friday, I had been checking out a website, and serendiptously found out that Secret Machines was performing that evening at the 9:30 club. Phil had introduced me to the band about two years earlier when he had give n me a mix CD of the best of 2004.

I probably listen to Secret Machines more than twice as much as any of the other CDs I have in my ITunes collection, mostly, I suppose, because I like its energy. Much of the music I have don't tend to be high energy. I have a lot of music that might fall in the alt-folk, alt-country mold. Secret Machines comes across more like a rollicking Pink Floyd.

The band consists of three musicians: two brothers, Brandon and Benjamin Curtis. Brandon is usually playing keyboards and singing lead. Brandon plays guitar, and does back up vocals. On stage, Brandon usually stands in the center. Josh Garza rounds out the group as the drummer.

Again, the time listed (9 PM) was only when the doors were open. The band, who didn't have a warm-up act, were not scheduled to be on until 10:15 PM, and didn't actually take the stage until 10:30 PM.

Most of the evening, the stage was darkly lit, with spotlights of various colors coming from the back to illuminate the band. Their hair style is circa the 1970s, with long hair for both the Curtis brothers, and curly long hair for Garza.

As typical for the 9:30 club, the music is deafeningly loud because, well, in this day of short attention span, once the music goes to a level where you can hear conversation, people start yapping away. The band kept some music going on at nearly all points, transitioning from one song to another. They started off with a song from their new album, Ten Silver Drops called Alone, Jealous, and Stoned before playing some songs from their first album.

They played a good mix of the two albums. Having listened to most of the songs some thirty times each, I know what the songs sound like. There were two that I hadn't heard. I don't know if these were much older hits, or whether they were yet unreleased.

One trend that's become strikingly common is the ubiquity of cell phone cameras. Now here's an idea that didn't seem like it would catch on. Who would want a camera with a phone. But it lends credence to the idea that the best camera to have is the one that you carry with you, and thus, several fans were taking their phone, trying to take pictures of a generally dark stage lit by colored spotlights. I, myself, carry a small Sony W50 digital camera, and took a few pictures as well.

I wasn't nearly as close as I was with The Concretes where I was practically on stage. The Secret Machines was perhaps twice as crowded, as the entire standing room area filled up (there are some seats on the second floor.

I attend bands every once in a while and often wonder why bands don't talk so much. Lance had suggested that maybe the bands don't have much to say that's intelligent. They could be like They Might Be Giants who have a good report with their geek crowd. Instead, the band decided to keep speech to a minimum, and rely on the beat and music to sustain interest.

The performance ended sometime around midnight. The Metro runs late on Friday night, so I wasn't concerned that I wouldn't get back. I don't like the hidden fees put on top of buying tickets. My sense is the band gets the entire proceeds of the tickets, plus possibly a fixed fee. The club makes money on the surplus fees plus the alcohol they sell at moderately outrageous prices (six bucks a beer).

One other unusual aspect. Normally, bands try to raise more money by selling merchandise. This means CDs, t-shirts, buttons, and other knick-knacks. Not The Secret Machines. Perhaps that was good. I'd already spent a bit to get there and back.