23 is supposedly a very powerful number: In the mystical world, Discordians (a religion that embraces chaos, disorder and dissent) believe that all events can be traced back to the number. While such a theory may not have universal acceptance, the prevalence of sporting stars strapping the number to their back (David Beckham, Michael Jordan, Shane Warne), Jim Carrey recent Discordians-inspired film and the release of Blonde Redhead’s much revered 23 poses some interesting questions.

Why 23? Is there something that the famous (and crackpots like the Discordians and Jim Carrey) know that we don’t? The band’s lead singer, Kazu Makino, laughs when I ask whether the album is simply named after her apartment: “No, it’s not because it’s my apartment number that I named it. I do like the number the best, for no particular reason. I feel a little bit lighter whenever I find 23 around me.”

“It turned out that it wasn’t only me who felt the number 23 was special, there’s a book about it, and there’s a secret society about the number 23. It’s an old secret society in Europe; it’s so secretive that they don’t make it clear what the parties’ intentions are, you just know that it’s called 23.”

While there are no tell-tale signs of Kazu being involved in any secret societies: “I’m not a member, but I’d like to find out if it still exists,” her band’s latest album is an airy, mystery-filled journey, which is not unsuited to such an enigma. A lush wall of organs and guitars, 23 is typified by its lush mood which flows throughout the album; punctuated by Kazu’s poetic, open imagery: “Quietly, I drop my weight into your sea/I drop my anchor I sway in your waves, I sing in your sleep” (‘Silently’). Was there a conscious, pre-planned effort to produce a dreamy album?

“Yeah, definitely; I don’t want it to sound like a garage band; where you can tell that it’s a very simple recording and the instruments sound like doink doink.”

How does this warmth translate to a live environment? “Live performances might come across a little bit more aggressive. It’s quite in your face. It’s not that we intend to be loud, it just has turned out to be really, really loud and we’re kinda going with it. I’m hoping that no matter how loud it is it’s a soothing kind of loudness, rather than a painful loud.” Kazu clarifies: “It’s a work in progress for the moment. By the time we get to Australia, we should have it right.”

“The record has a lot going on and you have to choose and sacrifice something, you can’t have all that live, it doesn’t work the same way, you can’t have the same clarity if you’re playing all of that on the stage. We kind of make it a little simpler. We’re finding out what are the crucial parts that move the songs the best”.

Blonde Redhead are halfway through a massive set of dates in support of the new album – the tour includes Europe, America and Australia – how do the band feel about such an extended trip?

“Touring is good, it’s a weird thing. Your life comes to a little bit of a suspension. You feel a little suspended. You put a pause on everything. It is mounting, it is leading up to something because music is the most important part of our lives; there is evolution. But so called ‘private life’ comes to a halt.”

Part of the challenge must be rising to meet crowd expectations at every gig, what’s the difference between a good and a bad gig?

“I don’t know, but sometimes you just play the show and cannot get an idea of the affect that you had on the people. Often you have a nice time and people think it’s the best show. It’s very mysterious that way. You think your singing great and then you might have been the biggest bore of the night. You really don’t know.”

What about the opposite of this though, when you think the band has performed well and critics don’t respond well, how does criticism like this affect Kazu?