Do not tell them, but I don't really know much about this band.

As I write this, there are two cats on the table. In the next room, the kitchen, a ferret crunches kibble. It's a typical morning here in the Playback household.

In 90 minutes, I am interviewing the Secret Machines. They are in Germany; I get to call there myself. Do not tell them, but I don't really know much about this band. This was one of our writers' wish list bands for our SXSW issue; we had about 12 hours' notice for the interview and the neither writer nor his questions was available, so here I am. As soon as I finish blogging, I have to write some questions.

Last night I did lots of research: 11 pages at 9-point type worth. I listened to their most recent album in its entirety. I've seen them live before, too—they opened for Interpol the fall of 2004, a tour we caught in Minneapolis—so I'm not flying completely blind. But I am more unfamiliar than I would like for an interview.

So if you'll excuse me, I've got questions to write. The pets, for their part, have fallen silent, disappeared. Guess it's time to get to work. 

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