The Secret Machines and Perry Farrell @ Warehouse Live

On Friday, December 12, Eggs and I rolled into Houston's Warehouse Live to snag some free hoodies from Camel and check out psych rock Dallasites-turned-New Yorkers The Secret Machines and living rock legend/Lollapalooza creator Perry Farrell. The night didn't exactly turn out the way we'd expected – read about it, plus view photos and videos after the jump

Words by Cereal
Images by Eggs

As we entered Warehouse Live's Ballroom, we were immediately struck by its emptiness. I hadn't been expecting a sold-out crowd, but this was ridiculous. Maybe it was the $30 price tag, or competing shows (Ice Cube at Meridian, Big Sam's Funky Nation at Continental Club), but it was sparser in there than I've seen in quite some time. By the time Perry Farrell took the stage, a few more people had trickled in, but it was still nowhere near the size of the crowds he's accustomed to playing to at festivals and with Jane's Addiction. Still, the small crowd turned its attention to the rock legend clad in a studded leather vest, sleeveless t-shirt and black jeans. Flanked by a guitarist and his wife/backing vocalist/eye candy Etty Lau, Farrell presented a short dance rock set that included "Go All the Way (Into the Twilight)," the song he penned for the Twilight soundtrack.

Though Farrell's voice sounded great, the whole performance felt contrived and a bit corny to me. I found Lau distracting and unnecessary. While she was certainly eye-catching in her Tinkerbell-gone-naughty get-up, her dancing seemed forced; her vocals were heavily distorted and added nothing to the music. Perhaps most nauseating were the choreographed movements Farrell and his wife executed at intervals. They probably wouldn't have seemed so cringe-worthy at a festival, but in front of 100 people in a warehouse, it came across as a little overdone. I'm all for a good stage show, but in this case the attempts at theatrics hindered rather than enhanced the music. It wasn't all bad – what we heard ranged from ambient lounge grooves to proggy indie vibes – but it didn't fit well with the venue and general mood that night.

Every time that Eggs and I have seen the Secret Machines, it's been under odd circumstances. At Voodoo Experience in '06, they were scheduled to play at an in-the-round stage; we headed there at the appointed time and found...nothing. No band was playing, no one was on the stage or near the stage. Thinking that perhaps they were running behind, we wandered around for awhile then returned an hour later. Nothing. Shrugging, we went about our festival business. The next night, we drunkenly stumbled into the same area – and the Secret Machines were finally playing! A secret Secret Machines set, indeed. I distinctly remember standing in front of the stage in a trance, eyes closed, enveloped in psychedelia. I wanted to see them play again immediately, but didn't have the opportunity to until this past July at Rothbury. There, they went on at 2:15, which would have been swell if it had been 2:15 AM instead of 2:15 PM. Don't get me wrong – they still killed it, but all their experimental goodness was a little washed out in the glaring sunlight. The Secret Machines' music begs for darkness, not sunshine. About twelve hours later (when they should have been playing, imho), Eggs, Toast and I were sitting in the oh-so-psychedelic Sherwood Forest when none other than the Secret Machines themselves appeared and stopped ten feet away from us. As music bloggers (and fans), we really would have liked the opportunity to talk to them for a few minutes, but, well, it was 2am at a festival, and we were in no condition to engage in coherent conversation. We laughed hysterically instead.

Dimly illuminated by minimalistic lighting, the Secret Machines opened their set at Warehouse with "Lightning Blue Eyes," a fan favorite from their 2006 full-length release Ten Silver Drops. Small crowd or not, the trio – and especially frontman Brandon Curtis – always pour so much of themselves into their performances. From the beginning of "Blue Eyes" to the final song of the show, I could almost feel Curtis' emotions as he penned the lyrics. Next up was "Atomic Heels," a track from their recently released self-titled album; this was immediately followed by what is perhaps their best-known song, Ten Silver Drops' "Alone, Jealous and Stoned." From there, the set focused primarily on material from their new album. A standout among the new songs was "The Walls Are Starting to Crack," a six-and-a-half minute melancholy number that features an abrupt freak-out in the middle.

The dense music that the Machines make isn't exactly for everyone; if you're looking for a dance party, you're certainly not going to find it at one of their shows. They're not a band that entertains by engaging in flashy theatrics; instead they choose to simply focus on making fuzzy, moody rock. If closing your eyes and getting lost in psychedelic textures sounds like a good time to you, this band is worth your while. Though this wasn't the best set that I've seen from them (I'm not sure if any of their sets will ever top that unexpected experience at Voodoo), it was still a solid showing.

Perry Farrell

The Secret Machines