The Secret Machines

The self-titled third full-length release from The Secret Machines is just about the best collection of new music released this year. Within eight jams stands one of the most towering monoliths of sound I’ve ever cast my ears upon. From these three gifted New York (by way of Texas) musicians thumps a mighty beat of dance/pop and a noisy cinema of aural images. It knocked me on my ass. The party gets started with huge drums and distorted guitar melodies on the dance-floor beacon “Atomic Heels,” and then seamlessly slides into “Last Believer, Drop Dead.” There, Brandon Curtis settles into the contemplative crystallization of being a “dream enthusiast” in a “graveyard of hopes.” Throughout, there is the faint realization that much more is going on than just stellar music, but as the melodies and delivery are so subtly intertwined, the lyrics are felt more than understood. “Underneath The Concrete,” a total vamp with hooks via synth and voice, is the last glimmer of levity. Henceforth, “The Walls are Starting to Crack” and the closing “The Fire is Waiting” are huge, cataclysmic draperies of dark emotion and production. Every moment of these recordings has impact. In all of the songs are touches of many influences, which are never groped, just caressed, innovated and invigorated – in the true spirit of artistry – by The Secret Machines’ own formidable creativity.