Secret Machines: Covert operation

Michael Stipe calls them 'pure sex'. The Chemical Brothers and Ian Brown have invited them on tour. Secret Machines tell Kevin Harley why they're ready to come out into the open

When the Fabric nightclub in London stages live bands, they tend, not surprisingly, to be the sort you can dance to rather than prog-flavoured psych rock explorers. The last couple of years have seen Scissor Sisters and Death in Vegas take to the stage post-midnight - you get the picture.

When the Fabric nightclub in London stages live bands, they tend, not surprisingly, to be the sort you can dance to rather than prog-flavoured psych rock explorers. The last couple of years have seen Scissor Sisters and Death in Vegas take to the stage post-midnight - you get the picture.

But, not so long ago, the Texas-via-New York three-piece Secret Machines played a typically tumultuous gig there, preceded by a DJ set from one of their growing rank of admirers, Spiritualized's Jason Pierce. It was mischief all round: Pierce simply played a 40-minute piece by the minimalist composer Terry Riley. When I put it to Secret Machines that this was cheating somewhat, their response says something about where they're coming from.

"No, it was genius," laughs Benjamin Curtis, the Machines' guitarist and vocalist, one of two brothers in the band. The group's powerhouse drummer, Josh Garza, agrees: "It's ambitious. It's turning the whole thing on its head. In some ways, it's real easy to say people can't be bothered to focus on anything for longer than three minutes and 25 seconds, but I think it's more like: 'Nah, man, if it's good enough and crazy enough, people might get off on it just because it's far out and half maddening.'"

Ambitious, crazy, far out: Secret Machines are all these things, and people are getting off on them. Released last year, their debut album, Now Here Is Nowhere, garnered critical plaudits for milking music of great scope from a three-piece set-up and tethering it to taut, propulsive melodies driven by psychedelic and krautrock grooves. REM's Michael Stipe has been quick to crash the party, describing the Machines as "pure sex". Jason Pierce liked the trio enough to take them on tour with Spiritualized in America. In the UK, too, they were invited to support New York's similarly intense, post-punk styled Interpol on tour.

It was a suggestive double bill, in that much as Interpol have had to rise above comparisons with Joy Division, so Secret Machines' embrace of prog rock has seen them likened to Pink Floyd. But, while it might be easy to concoct a picture of some "new prog dawn" by looking at the output of a bunch of bands right now (see also The Mars Volta and The Earlies), Secret Machines restrain any prog-ish propensity for indulgence with their flair for dynamics. Even on their 10-minute tracks, the Machines don't launch into the sort of guitar solos that would bring prog-haters out in a rash.

"That goes back to Eric Clapton," says Garza. "I'm not the biggest fan, but the reason people like him is the same reason I don't. It's because he's giving himself some, right? He's getting off. He's soloing. For some people, that's why Clapton is God. But I don't think we're that kind of band. We love songs and melodies. We like doing three-minute tracks but we also like to get far out, like Neu. So we're trying to find that balance."

"That's the weird thing when people talk about, say, prog rock," says Brandon, Benjamin's brother and the band's vocalist, keyboard player and bassist. "Does it mean we play something you don't like? If they're calling us prog and it scares people off, then it's a drag, because we're not really prog. If it attracts people who think we're prog or psychedelia, they're gonna be like: 'You guys are just like a rock band.'"

Growing up in Texas, Secret Machines were raised on rock. Local radio stations played Yes and Led Zeppelin, and it's easy to feel something of the Zeppelin drummer John Bonham in Garza's full-bodied, front-of-stage attack on his kit. "Yeah, but 'Zeppelin rules' should go for everyone," says Garza. "It's like the 11th commandment," Benjamin adds, laughing.

Then there's the state itself to reckon with. Does the elemental flavour of much of Texas rock, from the Machines to ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead and Explosions in the Sky, suggest that there's something in the water back home? "We haven't figured that one out yet," says Garza. "But it's big. There's a sky. See here, how it didn't rain today? Now, if this happens in Texas you'd better shut the windows and bring the pets in, because this is tornado weather. It's the level of intensity the environment has - that's why you have bands like Trail of Dead. What's in the water? Man, you don't wanna know, not if it makes you play music like that."

Having done their time in many Texas bands, the Machines formed as a three-piece in 2000 and decamped to New York six months later, where their gigs included a mighty-sounding show supporting Trail of Dead and Explosions at the Bowery Ballroom. Their timing was perfect, in that the music press was hailing New York as a resurgent rock epicentre when they came on to the scene.

Live, the Machines' focus and sincerity is wholly song-based. Leaving hardly any gaps between tracks, they create the kind of buffeting aural environment that can pick you up and drop you out at the back-end of a set feeling transported. "That's what we aim for," says Garza. "It's like an orgasm, y'know? We're gonna try and do something to you."

Indeed, thinking back to Fabric, the Machines might have something in common with dance-related music after all. Their new single, "Road Leads Where It's Led", is pure baggy; last month, they even supported Ian Brown and The Chemical Brothers on tour.

"Well, what we're doing isn't dance," Benjamin says, "but there is something similar. We like dance music, drum beats, trance states, all of that. We're both pretty much non-stop - we like to create a mood and maintain it. Maybe how well we go down with that crowd depends on timing - if we come on when the ecstasy kicks in, they should be receptive."

You get the sense, though, that the Secret Machines' all-consuming sound is intended to be a kind of post-Ecstasy experience of the sort that recreates and outpaces pharmaceutical assistance. "If you listen to him play drums for 10 minutes," says Benjamin, pointing at Garza, "your brain will end up in a weird spot anyway."

Put another way, this little band are quite a trip.

The album 'Now Here Is Nowhere' and the single 'Road Leads Where It's Led' are out now on 679 Recordings