Tortoise's "Standards" and the Haze of Student Judgement

Tortoise’s It’s All Around You has proven to be a vivid snapshot of my somewhat hazy years in Carrollton. I added several Tortoise albums to my wishlist back then, but I never followed up with them, nor did I lose interest enough to remove them. They just sat there. Standards, which by several accounts is a critically praised album by Tortoise, was one of these albums destined to wishlist purgatory.

I recently stumbled across a used copy at Recycled Records on the Denton square, however, and it found its way into rotation at last. Standards precedes Its All Around You chronologically, and comes off as a bit less “prog” than its successor. What it lacks in epic scope, however, it trades for a more improvised, jammy feel. Standards allows me to imagine Tortoise as an alternate lineup for Frank Zappa's later iterations of the Mothers of Invention.



I had only spun the album a few times when I quite literally road-tested it. For the first year at my new position, I ended up being responsible for transporting a few middle school students to participate in the all-region band clinic and concert. We used an ISD truck for this purpose and as I logged the mileage, I noticed that there was a CD player in the dash. I just couldn’t help myself. I went back to my car and grabbed a couple of discs from the rotation stack. One of them happened to be Tortoise’s Standards.

On the drive, I gave the students chance to converse amongst themselves, at least at first. This only lasted a little while, though, and soon the silence became unbearably deafening. I gave my passengers some choices based on some very vague descriptions of the albums I grabbed. I described Tortoise as “weird jazz.”

Of course, I recognize that to describe Tortoise as a strictly jazz group is a bit of a stretch. What they do requires some kind of further description. Perhaps it would have been more fair to call them “jazz-rock.” Or more like “rock-jazz.” Or maybe “post-rock-jazz.” Hard to say. Traveling through these increasingly ridiculous labels would just obfuscate matters, so I indulged in the description in the spirit of making things simple for the average middle schooler. One student, who happened to be the High School director’s daughter, spoke up in favor of “the jazz.”

Knowing that she probably was expecting Miles Davis or Count Basie, I cautiously re-emphasized that “It’s weird!” and with a wry grin, I put it in.

And that’s when things really got awkward. At least for them.



If those first two minutes of drum outfreakage seemed long in the above clip, it was even more so with the palpable haze of my student's judgement hanging in the air.  Whatever.  After all, these were the best music students in the school, so they should be able to form some sort of informed opinion. That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway.  In truth, I was selfishly happy as a clam.

What is not readily apparent when listening to Tortoise on record, and what you can see above, is that all the band’s members are multi-instrumental wizards, often changing instruments in the middle of the song. Listening with that in mind, Tortoise presents a fascinating puzzle to be unraveled. A full concert would be something to behold, especially if you walked in with a good knowledge of the band's material.

In their defense, the students had no context or experience that might have given them a toehold on Standards. If they had an opinion, they did not let on. They remained silent for the remainder of the trip, although I sensed a lot of “WTF?” glances being exchanged in the back seat. It probably didn't help that the speakers in the truck made everything sound like it was underwater. Finally, one student broke the ice and made a somewhat snide comment about the cat-like sound qualities of the synth melody in Monica.


Just when it seemed like we could have a conversation about what is interesting about Tortoise in general and Standards specifically, we arrived at the clinic site. It was tempting to initiate a conversation about timbre and sound quality, but I thought that it might be better not to press my luck. We headed in for what would be a long weekend of band rehearsal.

Contrasting Similarities: Toe and Lite

I enjoy variety in my listening, and often my interest in variety will dictate the direction that it takes.  On the other hand, I do get on kicks with certain styles, and I see no reason to shake them if they continue to hold my interest.  In January, I was checking out a lot of electronic instrumental music, and to rebel against that, I went on a math rock kick at the beginning of this month (because you know, THAT’s so different).  This led to my current interest in Japanese progressive/instrumental music, and right now, even though I have tried to taper off listening to this subgenre, I keep fighting the temptation to fill up the CD player entirely with the stuff.  

In a previous post, I mentioned that Lite would be coming to Austin as part of the SXSW festivities, and that I was also looking into another band called Toe.  Those two seeds came to fruition simultaneously.   Toe's The Book about My Idle Plot on a Vauge Anxiety showed up the day I was going to see Lite at SXSW here in Austin.  There will hopefully be some footage of that show online soon, so I am going to wait to gush about it too much, but I will say that it will be seriously hard for any live act to top Lite this year.  

Between Toe in the car and Lite at the Gingerman, that evening threw gasoline on the Japanese instrumental rock fire I have been warming my hands around.  Although Toe’s similar instrumentation, ideology, and approach seems similar to Lite, their ethereal approach to twin guitars readily distinguishes them.  Toe’s music is intimate and organic in a way that makes them seem more “post-rock” than “math-rock.”

Now, let’s talk over on camera three for a second.  I dislike (nay, hate) the categorization “post-rock.”  I think it is essentially empty.  It’s a label created for progressive rock made after 1995 that intends to distance it from the excesses associated with that style.  Some influential bands such as Sigur Ros and Tortoise have been christened as “post-rock,” and as a result the term has the circumscribed melancholy associated with these bands, circumventing thoughtful description.  And that's the issue: as a category of music, “post-rock” is non-descriptive – it means nothing more than an “alternative” to “alternative.”  I fully accept my complicity in promulgating this term here, but also my reluctance to use it for the sake of brevity.  More on music categories later.

While listening to Toe on the way home, and enjoying it, I also struggled to keep the energy and precision of Lite’s show in my awareness.  I came home and immediately downloaded two of their EPs, Illuminate and Turns Red, and burned them onto a CD.  I even printed out cover art for the case.

 

One of Lite’s strongest attributes is their attention to composition above individual technical ability.  Despite the obvious virtuosity of each of the individual members of Lite, they don’t showcase “solos,” in the classic sense.  I can’t argue the point that Lite uses lots of notes, but I think their chops coalesce in service to the melodic aspects of their work.  Filmlets was primarily guitar-driven, but synthesizers play a more pronounced role in Illuminate/Turns Red.  This is not to say that they have given up on their distinctively angular, riff-driven approach.  Instead, their use of synthesis widens and enhances the sonic possibilities of their work.  This live clip has two of my favorite songs from Illuminate.

Image Game is my "fight song" right now.  In a live setting, it was devastating.  Not only does it showcase their energetic mastery of precisely executed and thickly harmonized melodic lines, but also their ear for atmosphere and ambience.  Side-by-side with Toe, I think the differences between the two bands are apparent, but I also think that fans of one will probably like both.