I have to be honest; it's been a few years since I've heard much about Blonde Redhead. Being a bit of an underground band (with one of those how-is-it-so-big underground fanbases in tow), that's not exactly surprising, but most of my familiarity with this band stems from their The Melody Of Certain Damaged Lemons record from 2000.

I do, however, come away from this show with a few burning questions that just may never be answered to my liking. Where the hell did The Secret Machines come from, how did they elude me this long, why are they so damn good, and how come no one told me about them before???

As usual, transit was not exactly on my side, but despite getting to the venue much later than the scheduled start time, I only missed a song and a half of The Secret Machines' all-too-short set. I learned afterwards from vocalist/guitarist Ben Curtis, that they had felt like going on later than they were intended to, so they 'lost a band member' to stall their set time. They still had to conform to the schedule for the evening though, and that's why the set was so stunted.

I wandered through the loosely-arranged audience that had gathered in front of the stage, weaseled in between a few folks, and gave my best darn shot at photographing them. In a stage-presence move that might have seemed pretentious elsewhere, these guys created an in-your-living-room intimate feel by placing a few small, concentrated spotlights behind themselves on stage, completely silhouetting them and dropping most of their crowd-facing places into thick blackness. No front-of-stage lights or any of the club's usual light rig were put into use. To watch, this was intriguing. To shoot, it was aggravating, but that's not really the point.

If nothing else, the stark and moody lighting both enhanced the brand of noisy rock they played, as well as made the music definitely pull to the forefront, allowing the figures themselves to melt into the dim light and present their art powerfully. The tunes entranced, kind of lulled me into this weird statuesque state of swirling euphoria. The three band members clustered closely together on stage. Drummer Josh Garza, well-lit compared to everything else, if obscured by his cymbals, sat at the edge of the stage on the left, facing towards the center. On the right side of the stage, Brandon Curtis (brother of Ben) sat at a keyboard, also facing towards the center. Tucked in the middle was Ben Curtis, idly stepping back and forth to the music he played.

They were loud, but they climbed to that loudness, and rolled through it effortlessly. They seemed to put themselves in as much of a trance while playing as they did their audience. Brandon in particular, the way he audibly stomped his foot in the ground as he smashed at his keys, or played his bass with frenzied guitar-like strums, seemed very in his own space. There was a chiming quality to the music that leaked through the buzz that they created live. The final song they played launched into a great wall of sound that escalated to enormous levels, all the instruments being played on stage at warp speed, faster, faster, until... everything just collided with silence at the split second the spotlights on the stage, almost the Commodore's only source of lighting during that set, seemed to literally fall off into pitch darkness. It was abrupt and beautiful.

Short but sweet, maybe? Just enough of a taste to keep me salivating uncontrollably and then become completely ravenous upon learning that they didn't even have any CD's to shill at the merch table? Pretty much. But there would be no waiting for 6-8 weeks to have something delivered to my door. They actually have a rather interesting approach to release their music before it's available in stores (which will be May 18). You can head to their website and buy the whole album in a digital format, and they'll even send you a pretty little printed CD-R to burn it onto. Very cool idea. They also have a player embedded into their website so you can listen to the entire album online before you buy it (for less than $10US... pretty smokin' deal), but I've only run into troubles with it. Either way, spectacular band. Catch them live now so you can say you got to them early.

After a big ol' changeover to Blonde Redhead's set up, the stage looked incredibly bare. Now, there was a drumkit on a riser tucked in the back, a set of keyboards way over on the left, and all the amps were pushed far off to the back and sides of the stage. The guitars were just lain around the edges as well. Nothing cluttered up the area at all. It was quite a musical turnaround form their openers. Blonde Redhead has a jangly, happy-sounding format that's almost a bit in line with a Belle and Sebastien sort of ideal. Continuing the brother theme of the night, twins Simone and Amedeo Pace were mostly distinguishable by Simone's beard (which left him looking a bit like Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne). The undeniable charm of the group lies in bassist/keyboardist/vocalist Kazu Makino. In a small and swirling brown dress, she weaved about with a bass guitar that looked entirely too large for her small frame. Her voice is high-pitched and almost stumbling. It's childlike and gives Blonde Redhead a very distinct sound. She appears very shy when you see her on stage.

The screwed-up equipment bug hit them early in the set, as Makino tried to move to the keyboards for the second song. The keys weren't working for some reason, and many plugs were shuffled about before everything became settled again. The painterly vocals split about fifty-fifty between Makino and Amedeo, who dances his lithe frame around the open stage quite freely.

The set progressed with the happy audience bopping away and singing along down front. Lovers abounded tonight, the drinks were flowing. I stood near the back to watch most of the show, and was the most impressed when, near the end of the set (and I'm not even entirely certain which song it was part of), the music descended into a jam session the lasted for scores of time. Also in the latter stages of the set, Makino stunned all by suddenly shucking off her shy-seeming demeanour and just simply roaring into a howling scream to finish off a song. Impressive set of pipes that don't come out too often. Though I suppose she'd probably have destroyed her vocal chords by now if she sang like that all the time.

While Blonde Redhead was definitely a good time, the show was absolutely, irrevocably stolen by the Secret Machines' set, and nothing could pull me away from that thinking. That tiny handful of songs somehow made the Blonde Redhead set seem a little dull, which is a shame, because they are a fine band. Here's to the Secret Machines!

Elsewhere

By Andy Scheffler
Photos : Andy Scheffler
Published : April 22, 2004.