When I think of 60s garage music, a handful of bands pop into my head. One of those bands is the Music Machine. The Music Machine were an innovative force to be reckoned with. With their trademark black hair, clothes, and one black glove on each band member, to the sheer power of the rhythm section, to fuzz guitars, and to their howlin' lead vocalist - no other band was like the Music Machine. To learn more about their story, Dauntless Music recently spoke to the founder and leader of the Music Machine, Sean Bonniwell. Lets go beyond the garage...

DM: To a new ear pressing up against the garage, how would you, Sean Bonniwell, describe The Music Machine?

SB: If I'd never heard of the Music Machine, and was listening today, I'd say they were so far behind in laps they appear to be first. The amalgamation of folk rock, power punk, and art rock, is now under the umbrella of alternative rock, but none of these categories existed in the mid 60s, and while the Machine was geared to be counter culture friendly, we also cranked sonic distortion that killed flying geese: The sound is still being investigated.

DM: I have seen it written before that when you were growing up in the '50s, you were into the blues (I'm a big blues fan). Where in the world did The Music Machine sound come from?

SB: This question is fully explored in Beyond The Garage (the book), but if you mean what musical influences colored my personal evolution I'd have to credit early rhythm & blues, gospel, jazz (Ron was a jazz drummer when I found him), The Platters, Bo Diddley, Mario Lanza's powerful tenor, and experimentation born from collective preferences -- as expressed by the innocence of not knowing any better. Even if there had been someone around to discourage us from interfusing soul with our special brand of white soup, we would have ignored them. We were aiming at the moon and shooting for the stars.

DM: What were some of your favorite sides that you found yourself always spinning in the 60s before/during/after The Music Machine.

SB: Doug Rhodes and Ron Edgar were into Hendrix, I favored the Yardbirds, Steppenwolf, the Kinks, and later, Steely Dan. But there wasn't any way to listen to records on the road back then, besides, when you're constantly writing there's little time for listening to anything other than what's coming next.

DM: Alot has been said about the image of The Music Machine. Do you ever look back and say "I wish we just wore jeans and t-shirts, that way people would focus on the music more"?

SB: No way. Our music was listened to partly because of the image, it was designed to be forceful and dynamic, hopefully, very much in keeping with how I hope our music is remembered. I saw Godsmack the other night on the tube, dressed in all black with instruments to match. The lead singer was doing his best to imitate Morrison's delivery; the band sound was exactly that of the Doors. It may be my imagination, but the fashion of black clothes seems now to be taken for granted as having always been a part of cultural expression.

DM: One part of The Music Machine that does not get enough attention (at least for me) is the part of you as the lead singer. Your style of singing was so unique for its time. Very gritty and from the gut one second, and very fragile the next. I beleive you started a new way to sing a rock and roll song which was adopted by so many lesser vocalist (especially in the late 60s/early 70s). Did you ever feel copied by anyone?

SB: I haven't consciously thought so... but now that you mention it, I guess my approach did break a little ground. I don't think I thought of myself as one dimensional. That certainly doesn't describe my song writing; I think I simply sang my songs as they were meant to be sung.

DM: What studios did The Music Machine record in and did you have any favorites?

SB: They're almost too numerous to mention; studio C at RCA comes to mind because that's where we recorded "Talk Talk." The studio at Original Sound was home but not preferable. Various garage studios we found all over the U.S., but we had no favorites. We did a late night/early morning session at a studio in Muscle Shoals Alabama that's renown for hits from the Motown era. We recorded whenever and wherever we could, with no thought given to anything other than recording the songs with their integrity intact, in other words, as they were predesigned to sound.

DM: Did you have complete control over the sessions?

SB: Yes, but without consciously doing so. I still believe that the most important ingredient for successful recording is the unbridled joy of creativity, there is no substitute for it; nothing can overshadow the collective force of creative discovery. This brings to mind what Bob Dylan told me in 1964; "...don't ever let the studio intimidate you, you're the star, not the equipment."

DM: Is that a double-tracked bass I hear on "The Eagle Never Hunts The Fly"or a delay of some sort?

SB: Yes.

DM: Did you have a bag of tricks when working in the studio? Any favorite sounds that only a studio can capture?

SB: Are you kidding? State of the art recording in the 60s was Stone Age technology by today's standards. I just kept experimenting until I got what I wanted -- until what I heard in my head could be heard by the ear. I can't begin to explain for instance, the pre-delayed vocal on "Black Snow"... necessity was the mother of invention. Still is, some things never change.

DM: I've often described you to friends as a songwriter/singer/producer or the "Brian Wilson of the garage". Were you a fan of what Brian was doing in the mid/late 60s?

SB: I'm extremely flattered to be counted in such illustrious company. I would describe Brian Wilson as a genius. I am not.

DM: Did you bump into alot of 60s L.A. music scene people?

SB: Just about everybody and anybody regarded as icons of the era. Most began in folk music, as I did. A comprehensive list of these is detailed in Beyond The Garage, complete with multifarious stories of why, when, and where -- some funny, some profound, some unforgettable, but all are lovingly remembered for having a blue thumb..

DM: In the Music Machine, the band pretty much used Vox Super Beatles amplifiers all the time (if I'm correct). Was this a love/hate affair with these loud beasts or just what the Music Machine needed at the time? (I ask because I play through a Vox Super Beatle every week at my gigs)

SB: We used them because they were free. It didn't matter how loud we were, the audience seldom heard more than the first two chords of any song... the screaming of teenage girls can shatter false teeth.

DM: Did you feel impacted on a musical level by the end of the 60s/beginning of the 70s which is sometimes refered to as the "winter of love"?

SB: Impacted? No. Used and discarded, maybe. We had our crowded hour, for that I'm grateful, to the members of the Music Machine and to my Lord and Savior.

DM: How does Sean Bonniwell size-up the music scene of today?

SB: I'm not able to abbreviate my opinion, so I would direct the reader to our web site: www.bonniwellmusicmachine.com (under the heading of Solomon's Porch; A birth of Music).

DM: How about all the interest TODAY in the Music Machine?

SB: Incredible, almost perplexing. But in the context of what 60s music contributed to what is heard today, my guess would be that the interest comes from recognizing a progenitor of sorts, a musical unit that helped to define a sound and style that continues to resonate in contemporary rock. There might be, as well, a longing to return to simpler times, to an era when the concept of absolutes was intrinsic to the well-being of our society.

DM: At last count I beleive all of the Music Machine's music is still available on one label or another with more being issued the latest being "Ignition". Are there anymore tapes in the vaults?

SB: I have a few odds and ends lying around, but for the most part the vault has been ravaged. I do have plans to make available the various garage experiments I've concocted over the years, as well as the Capitol album Close, and Star Witness, an album I recorded in the 80s. I've been in contact with Ron Edgar (the drummer), he and I (and possibly Keith) are discussing a recording reunion, as I must have 30 songs that I wrote for the Machine that we never recorded. Fact is, nobody has ever heard these songs. I'm in the process of transferring them to CD, as reel-to-reel tape tends to disintegrate after 35 years.

DM: As I understand it, there are a number of developments in the works. To me this sounds like reunion talk...

SB: Please refer to the answer above. As for a performance reunion, well... that's easier said than done. The original members are scattered all over the map, so at this point the best that can be hoped for is... Edgar & Bonniwell: The Music Machine 2000 ... with the balance of the other players to be determined by geography, musicianship, and respect for MM legacy. The garage door is always open...

DM: What would the lineup be for a reunion recording?

SB: Idealistically... the Ragamuffins (Keith, Ron and me, with Doug Rhodes a possibility. If not, then Ron and I intend to take the matter in hand and get it done before one of us falls like a bad tree.

DM: Have you been writing alot of new material specifically geared to The Music Machine sound?

SB: As stated before, I don't have to, I've got enough material for six Music Machines. I know that may sound presumptuous, but I don't mean it that way. I've been a songwriter for so long I take the matter of material for granted. There are any number of compositions (old and new) that qualify for the MM, not the least of which is a couple of tunes that have been haunting my hit makers' brain for decades. One, in particular, could be a flat-out hands-down top-10 dinosaur! (Sorry, the boy in the man only survives when one reminds the other to leave some room for dreams).

DM: How would you plan to record and where?

SB: Bring the boy and leave the man at home. As for where, Olsen's 42 track digital studio in L.A. is a possibility, but I'll record at any place that has electricity.

DM: And who would produce?

SB: Keith, if we do it at his place. After all, his list of credits is, to say the least, substantial. The truth is, we don't need to designate a producer in the sense of contributing to arrangements etc., in the context of resources however, Keith would rule.

DM: Any plans to play live?

SB: As I said, eventually Ron and I will perform together again. I can't speak for the others, except to add that when we do, we will not limit ourselves to the past. I know how dangerous this is, I've been told not to deviate from MM protocol, that to do so is certain death. All I can say is that if I'm gonna die, I'll die happy. It's beyond me to understand how I could be guilty of imitating myself. Until someone can explain this to me, I'll do what I've always done; be more of who I am by being more of who I can become.

DM: Any parting words to rockers out there?

SB: Be more of who you can become. If you want the ultimate of who you are, give yourself and your talent to your Creator; the Lord Savior Christ, is the way, the truth and the life. There is no other.

Sean Bonniwell's autobiography, Beyond The Garage, can be purchased by check payable to
Christian Vision
P.O. Box 409
Porterville CA 93258
Mention our Dauntless interview and receive the special price of $35.00 + 3.00 S&H ($15.00 overseas). Copies of this limited edition collectible will be numbered, dated, signed and dedicated.

Or by web at The Bonniwell Music Machine.

Also check out Sundazed Records for more Music Machine.

And, to get the Nuggets box set featuring The Music Machine, go to Rhino