Poised for a breakout

Cleveland’s Cobra Verde seems destined to break out of supporting slots, based on recent raves from Entertainment Weekly and other influential publications. The band’s most recent effort, 2003’s “Easy Listening,” makes a solid case with a serving of clever, no-bluffin’ rock numbers.

The group’s video for “Riot Industry” should lure some curious viewers to the group’s appearance Saturday at the Black Cat with Local H. A wacky B movie realized in the space of a three-minute clip, the video brings together some unlikely co-stars: punk bassist Mike Watt, “Cheers” actor George Wendt, ’70s “blaxploitation” actor and comic Rudy Ray Moore and Egyptian belly dancer Danielle.

“Riot Industry” lampoons the ludicrous nature of basic-cable TV and “reality” shows. The programming it ridicules is mediocre; Cobre Verde proves to be quite extraordinary.

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Secret Machines drummer Josh Garza loves his home state of Texas. So it’s meant as a tribute, not a knock, when the Dallas native compares the oppressive Texas heat to sticking his head in an oven and boiling his brain.

Influenced by the scorching temperatures and vastness of the “big, big state,” Secret Machines write songs from a different perspective from that of East Coast bands, Mr. Garza says.

He laments the lack of depth and purposeful layering of sound in most of today’s rock music. Everything is too “in your face,” he says by phone. “We really made an effort to do something” different from the norm.

The group, now living in New York City, performs tonight and tomorrow night at the Black Cat.

In search of the depth and ambience of ’70s albums from Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin, Mr. Garza and brothers Ben and Brandon Curtis experimented with retro recording techniques for their major-label debut, “Now Here Is Nowhere.” Capturing the natural sound that exists in the studio through the use of multiple microphones seems just as important as recording the instruments.

Secret Machines establishes the blueprint on the nearly-nine-minute opener, “First Wave Intact.” Paced by Mr. Garza’s unwavering beat and a plump bass line, Ben Curtis unleashes short bursts of guitar then pauses to create more space for the vocals. The guitar returns with a shock of sustained fuzz, and at the three-minute mark, the band plugs in the buzzing, fizzy science-fiction sound effects that return throughout the record. A minute later, a keyboard pulse drifts gently into the ether, detaching itself from a song held earthbound by the steady drumming.

Mr. Garza shares Zeppelin drummer John Bonham’s penchant for floor-crumbling kick-drum blasts and an infatuation with the hypnotic “chik-chik” of the high-hat. “Sad and Lonely” presents a showcase for his drumming and the recording process that places distance between the musicians without undercutting the impact or relationship to one another.

The Secret Machines close the album with a propulsive, urban electronic track, “Now Here Is Nowhere,” which musically realizes the psychotic reactions to Mr. Garza’s “head in the oven” scenario.

The Secret Machines take their musical cues from the ’60s and ’70s, but the group embraces a thoroughly modern approach to distributing its songs. “Now Here Is Nowhere” won’t be released in bricks-and-mortar retail stores until May 18. But the band’s Web site, www.thesecretmachines.com, has streamed the songs for free since late 2003. The Machines’ label representative reports sales of about 800 digital versions from the group’s site and online music stores.

The pro-digital stance of Warner Bros.’ Reprise imprint may be surprising in an age when the record industry’s trade association regularly sues downloaders. The endgame, as Mr. Garza sees it, is for listeners to get exposed to the music online and then buy the traditional CD version.

As he spoke in early April, Mr. Garza was enjoying a couple of days of much-needed rest halfway through the group’s first full tour of the United States. The band has graduated from dingy music holes with dinky sound systems to larger, but still cozy, clubs with gear better suited to its expansive noise escapades.

A loan from the band’s label supplies a van with heat and air conditioning, stage equipment, and funding for a two-person support crew. The group opens for longtime indie-rock favorites Blonde Redhead, which attracts an audience that’s open to new bands, Mr. Garza says.

“We’re a rock band that still believes in working and sweating and taking care of our stuff,” he says.

But the ridges of his mind are already contemplating ways to translate the intensity of a club show to bigger venues and larger crowds.