Tortoise is a band with a following that might be surprisingly large given their unorthodox approach, a tough-to-pin-down fusion of jazz, prog, Kraut rock, and what might best be described as futuristic airport music. With a style dubbed “post-rock” by music critics, the Chicago-based outfit doesn’t pander to its audience. Instead, Tortoise wisely assumes the intelligence of its fan base and makes the music they want to play—which, thankfully, is almost always worth hearing. Their September 5th appearance at the Mod Club proved no exception.
The five-man band was illuminated by a screen of psychedelic projections behind them, casting an eerie extraterrestrial glow on their symphonic presentation. Audience interaction was kept to a minimum, which served to maintain continuity between songs but carried the disadvantage of distancing the band from its full crowd of worshipping listeners.
The set list drew largely from the latter half of Tortoise’s catalogue. 2004’s Thrill Jockey and 2001’s Standards provided the bulk of the evening’s material, but some earlier work—most notably, from their 1998 landmark TNT—was worked in for good measure. Highlights included the dreamy, cinematic “Crest” and the sci-fi percussiveness of “Seneca,” whose hand-clapping finale incorporated audience participation and perfectly crisp timing.
The show started before 9pm and was over by 10. Though early by concert standards, the scheduling allowed the benefit of a relatively sober—and, consequently, respectful—audience. Not only did crowd members say “excuse me” when maneuvering towards the bar, but they seemed genuinely entranced by the band’s lush, atmospheric set.
For a band whose songs are an entirely instrumental hybrid of sounds, Tortoise’s ability to draw in a live audience speaks volumes to the band’s musical craftsmanship. Simply put, without a charismatic frontperson to distract showgoers from technical lapses, the band’s members are forced to rely on the strength of their songs and collective chops to keep their audience interested. It’s no surprise, then, that musical ability served as its own feature player. Some of the evening’s most endearing moments came from watching bandmates John McEntire, Dan Bitney, and John Herndon jump from drum set to auxiliary percussion to keyboards, synths, marimba, vibes and guitar with equal enthusiasm and ease, while guitarist Jeff Parker and bassist Doug McCombs held ground behind them.
With track lengths seldom under three minutes and frequently over five, Tortoise’s songs are not designed for short attention spans and neither are their shows. If anything, their live performances give each song a chance to sprawl out and breathe—a good thing for Tortoise aficionados, but not well suited to an emerging generation of music fans brought up on quick cuts and ample repetition. As a result, the age scale of the audience tipped towards the mid-30s, with a much lower representation from the 20-something scenester crowd than I had anticipated. Still, there was enough youth in the crowd to suggest that, as long as Tortoise sticks around, it will find itself an appreciative fan base.
Rating: VVVV
