Cracked Machine at The Southgate

If many space-rock acts have more band member changes than most other musicians change their socks, Hawkwind are the exemplar of the tendency. There might be some scientific theory for this, equally there may not. What is more probable is that it is an occupational hazard for members to get as lost in space as Dr. Zachary Smith. Cracked Machine, here tonight to provide the entertainment at the Devizes’ Southgate, are also prone to getting through some keyboardists and drummers, though if the lead guitarist-frontman and bassist remain steadfast, this propensity is not the only element to them comparable with Hawkwind, and that’s a good thing in my opinion…..

If you’ve any hazy recollection of a maintaining a horizontal posture in a bedroom for the duration of a scratched long player with a gatefold sleeve, staring at patterns either in the mould on the wall or blu-tacked Mandelbrot set posters covering them up, in a smoky haze proportionate to your memories and stenching of wood burner and red Leb, whether only with a bong for a friend or a few stragglers with no more conversation than the bong, save a few comments like “oh wow, man, can you see it?!” then Cracked Machine is the band to seek such fond memories, and bring them to the forefront of your fragile cerebral cortex, through a preponderance of sublime bassy rock bliss.

For if space-rock is a natural progression from Led Zeppelin, Flyod or Hendrix’s overextended bridges of swirling sonic electric guitar skullduggery and wobbly sound effects, Cracked Machine nailed it some years ago and show no sign of altering their methodology. In fact, the tendency is to get harder. Though Hawkwind allowed vocals, Frome’s Ozric Tentacles may be a better comparison for space-rock aficionados.

In this, it’s been some years since I’ve caught up with them live, despite reviewing albums one, two and three. It was left up to Ben Niamor and Andy Fawthrop to review their last two appearances at the Southgate, respectively in November 2022, and October 2018. For me, I will always have the 2019 Devizes Street Festival, when Pete of Vinyl Realm paid and hosted our local stage idea on the corner of St John’s and townsfolk slow-roasted on deckchairs while Cracked Machine’s definitive sound caressed their very souls. But while Cracked Machine’s lineup has changed since then, their devotion to the sound and ability to knock it out to the shimmering rafters, isn’t. 

In that, I knew what I was letting myself in for. It was another one of those birthday things for me, which always seems to charge me with ever-increasing speed. There wasn’t actually much else happening in town Saturday night, much I would’ve missed this for a wanton jig to Motown or some-other such-like, elsewhere. Suppose I had the option to go down the Bin afterwards, but as it was advised by Vince Bell who I met on the bus, such a recommendation had to be taken with a pinch of salt, and was best at 52 to get a taxi direct to my duvet! For a while there though, it was a party, as it is in The Southgate, with it’s no frills hospitable atmosphere, affordable range of drinks, and general “proper pub” tenet. The affectionately dubbed “Gate” doesn’t change like band members of a space-rock band, and it’s a cracking party there more often than not.

Tom Harris kicked off the proceedings with his guitar, belting vocals and the expressions of a hyperalgesic at the dentist. Impossible to fault, Tom delivers the banter as well as his songs, divides covers equally from originals, so if he’s not charming an emotive blues ballad of his own pen, it’s perhaps a scatological one or he’s made amusing entertainment from a slyly chosen cover. Rob Thomas’ Santana summer smoothie reflects the unusually clement climate for March, and Tenacious D’s hilarious Tribute was surely perfect for Tom, and he handled them with might, until drummer Gary Martin arrived from a support slot at the Pump with Clock Radio, and the main act was completed and ready to rock.

They didn’t come up for air throughout these lengthy compositions of prog rock formulated instrumentals, and as a result of not taking advantage of the customary break, their set ran off too early. Landlord Dave encouraged them to pull something else out of the bag, saving the necessity of the crowd’s cliche call for an encore, which you know would’ve happened anyway. To which they considered how to continue, yet what elapsed was another drifting spacey masterpiece of fifteen minutes or more. We loved it.

If the template of Cracked Machine’s sound is arguably narrow, and narrative is vague due to only being expressions of instruments, their nature is stylised, and works wonders, creating a spellbinding ambience. Cracked Machine are always welcomed by the Southgate regulars, for even if the pub strives to diversify, it’s electric blues and prog rock which they favour, and this, with those wobbly keyboard noises and subtly placed samples, is simply a psychedelic progression from it which is decades old, yet Cracked Machine proves it’s worth in the modern world.

Space rock, or acid rock, a direct descendant of Pink Floyd and Zep’s tolkienesque The Battle of Evermore, also acts as the bridge from rock to electronica and ambient house, a bridge the guarding troll usually confounds most rock subgenres with a riddle and renders them unable to cross, that’s why I love it, and that’s while I will only have good things to say about Cracked Machine.

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