It's becoming increasingly difficult to write about Tortoise. The band has accumulated so much non-musical baggage that it's difficult to sit down and listen to one of their records without sifting through a pile of non-essential peripheral information. Yes, their records are sometimes more about technique than tune, concerned more with style than listenability. Yes, it's possible that their recent output is nothing more than a series of digitally-encoded in-jokes, intended more for the amusement of their increasingly incestuous peer group than the record-buying public at large. And yes, while they're up there on stage looking skinny and studious and intense and clever, it's not unreasonable to wonder if they're laughing at you for having paid ten bucks to see them.
I don't know whether Standards represents an attempt to craft a more listenable Tortoise album, but that's what seems to have happened here. The jazz leanings and fascination with electronic music remain, and are sometimes imprudently indulged, but in general the band seems to have a renewed awareness of the needs of the people on the other side of the speakers. While none of the songs on Standards stand much hope of fulfilling the album title's promise and finding their way into the broader musical lexicon, they offer tangible support to the listener. There are also a few moments that provoke an unexpected "Hey, is that really Tortoise?" reaction -- a pleasing hint that the band still has a few surprises left up its collective sleeve.
The rough, bristling fanfare of "Seneca" makes an early, somewhat gimmicky play for your attention. A clamor of pre-performance tune-up dissonance and aggressive over-playing, it slides abruptly into an overpowering beat, then tosses in a sinuous analog melody. The repetition of a signature guitar line is somewhat predictable, and you might find yourself waiting for trademark tempo-shifts that never arrive. In the end, "Seneca" never quite capitalizes on the impact of its two-minute-tune-up opening, dovetailing into the Oval-cum-fusion percolation of "Eros" with a clatter of gamelan and a whiff of missed opportunity.
"Benway" proves more striking. Deliberately paced and snakily moody, this track restricts itself to the lower bass range, leaving the exploration to its videogame-derived analog melody. In its final ninety seconds, however, it reveals a "standard Tortoise" conclusion, rife with xylophone and jazz riffs, grinding to a halt with a quartet of progression runs.
A few years ago, Tortoise's DNA became irrevocably mixed with Stereolab, which is why we can never be entirely free of bossa-nova-inspired tracks like "Six Pack". If the tail end of "Benway" got on your nerves, this piece may come too soon -- though as a counterpoint to the glacial ambiance of "Firefly", it's comparatively welcome. And don't worry -- many of Standards' best moments are still to come.
"Monica" sounds a little like Tortoise's salute to porno music. Loose and squelchy and funky, it's based on a fairly simple signature sequence which, over the course of six minutes, is moved through an interesting range of auditory perspectives. You'll hear the sequence tweaked by a variety of effects, slathered with percussion, cut and pasted and generally put through the wringer...but without descending into studio geek wankery. There's even a bit of saxophone at the end. "Blackjack", which follows, ups the ante. After a simple and melodic introduction, the piece explodes with the sort of jazzy urgency that characterizes the best Tortoise pieces, always remaining on the near side of the Stereolab divide. Here, more than anywhere else on Standards, you can never be entirely certain where the band's going, though it's clear that they're firing on all cylinders. It's an assuredness that "Speakeasy", the disc's closing piece, would have done well to imitate. Instead we get more downtempo electronic jazz-tampering -- not the most assured way to go out.
What I'd like you to take away from this review is that Standards is a good album. Not a spectacular album, but not a source of wholesale disappointment either. If you find yourself with a copy of Standards and an hour to spare, try doing things a little differently. Don't look for oblique references to jazz icons. Don't use it as a soapbox from which to flout your knowledge of Pro Tools. Just listen to it, as you would a record from a band you've never heard before. Listen thoughtfully, and get to know it better. Then, when you've had some time to get to know Standards, you can start unpacking its baggage.
