Tortoise: Touch

A Tortoise release takes a good decade before any kind of coherent thought can be transferred from mind to scroll. Their meticulous approach, subtle and hypnotic in a way that the music is somehow in sync with one’s brain chemistry and how things can form new perceptions with time. It’s largely down to the alchemy of the band’s chief architects, which has largely consisted of the alliance between John McEntire, Doug McCombs, Jeff Parker, Dan Bitney and John Herndon.

Voices drifting from different corners of a bizarre sound world that converge at its core, while many would consider Tortoise’s second full-length release, Millions Now Living Will Never Die (1996) as the Chicago-formed band’s creative zenith, their true peak came via their career-defining follow-up, TNT (1998). A Swiss army knife of a record that remains as post-rock’s crucial reference point, in many ways TNT could be considered punk, given how Tortoise dismantled all the parameters and rules originally set by the gatekeepers. 27 years on, and it remains an exquisite outlier.

Since then, there have been crucial flashpoints, too – Standards (2001) and Beacons of Ancestroship (2011), more sketches that left indelible marks within the post-rock pantheon, and Tortoise’s latest release, Touch, offers similar results.

While many considered Touch’s predecessor, The Catastrophist (2016) a rare blip, (applying the above-noted 10-year rule, and there’s still time to sway opinion), the early signs suggest that Tortoise’s eighth long-player is anything but. Like they’ve always done, Tortoise make their audience work for the results, and after spending quality time with Touch, it really is the band at their all-encompassing best.

Recorded in various locations (a first for the band with each member now dotted across various parts of the United States), Touch has a bit of everything but through a wider lens. That Tortoise sound world, ever expanding, and they do well to draw from every part of it.

Take opening cut, Vexations. If it weren’t for McCombs’ bass heft, then it could be mistaken for some exotic cruise ship noodling (the best kind, of course). A far cry from Works and Days and Rated OG where Tortoise cascade with fantastical, futuristic jazz-inspired echoes.

Then there’s the show-stopping album highlight, Elka – a synth-infused BPM panic attack of krautrock that demands to be played on a loop. It’s Tortoise getting euphoric with something that reaches new parts of the mind, and it dovetails beautifully with Axial Seamount. Majestically layered with bleeps, plinks and rhythms, it sees Tortoise in free rein-mode, straddling the orbits with grace.

Elsewhere, and Promenade à Deux feels like a long-lost sequel to TNT’s The Suspension Bridge at Iguazú Falls. Post-rock that majestically climbs to mysterious locales, which is where Tortoise remain on A Title Comes – nimble noodling that slowly seeps into the pores, gently flowing through the bloodstream.

Their final pivot comes on the open-hearted Night Gang. Led by low drones and synths that spiral to every corner of their world, here Tortoise offer a snapshot of Touch at large. Like one of those AI summaries after a Google search, except Tortoise’s aim is to outrun it at every turn, and on Touch the quest continues with another enigmatic showing that reaffirms their position as the true overlords of post-rock.

Touch is out now via International Anthem / Nonesuch Records. Purchase from Bandcamp.