CD reviews

Tortoise

Beacons of Ancestorship
(Thrill Jockey)
*5.6*
Goes well with: Explosions in the Sky, Squarepusher, Slint

Avant-jazz playing techno dress-up is nothing new. Chicago rock-deconstructionists Tortoise offer a take on academic analogtronica that borrows from the likes of Squarepusher and new-jack gear-bashers Holy Fuck and Battles, with an result that’s emphatically lukewarm. It feels odd to call anything as busy as Beacons of Ancestorship “middling”—typically such a distinctive sonic construction merits either worship or ridicule. Sometimes the record lifts off, but mostly it just hovers in the vapor, never landing long enough to deliver a memorable moment.

At least the towering musicianship behind the band’s 1996 epic, Millions Now Living Will Never Die, isn’t dead. Tortoise’s weird arrangements and time signatures still shoehorn each track with ideas, but the Winnebago of sonic experimentation never hits highway speed. “Gigantes” and “Charteroak Foundation” offer buffets of sliced percussion and chord soup, but as entrées, both probably hold more interest for the chefs than the customers.

Oscillating wildly from robust grunge (“Yinxianghechgqi”) over to diazepam alt-country (“Minors” and “The Fall of Seven Diamonds Plus One”), Beacons is a record that seems more interested in making genre dioramas out of macaroni and Elmer’s Glue than actually immersing itself in the groove. As a result, the listener is pushed firmly out to a polite viewing distance. A nice Twin Peaks stupor sets in during album closer “Monument Six One Thousand,” but by then the show’s over.

Magnolia Electric Co.

Josephine
(Secretly Canadian)
*7.9*
Goes well with: Townes Van Zandt, Calexico, Son Volt

On Josephine, alt-country brooder Jason Molina (formerly Songs: Ohia) distills his trademark lonesome sounds into the most anemic surfaces possible. And, somehow, it’s satisfying—even evolutionary—for a project derailed and here dedicated to bassist Evan Farrell, who died in 2007.

Farrell’s musical leanings are said to be a large part of what Molina and his crew are shooting for in this 14-track, self-described “concept album.” If that’s the case, Farrell certainly worshipped at the winsome twin altars of Townes Van Zandt and Emmylou Harris. It takes a couple of almost-there’s to get the disc going, but by “Shenandoah,” an off-kilter, maudlin moan becomes a transcendent meditation on life, death and the honky-tonk wisdom earned by pulling high-desert all-nighters on the road. And the following track, “Whip-poor-will,” is a study in sounding simple and seriating in form while streaking through a stratosphere of highbrow drama and liturgical weight. When Molina’s voice noticeably wavers in tremolo during a refrain of “Still waiting, still waiting,” the shivers aren’t shitting anyone: They’re for real.

Armed with just the right plotting of snare-less drums, tasteful steel guitars and a haunting Hammond organ here and there, it’s a cathartic honor to share in such gorgeously rendered grief.

Busdriver

Jhelli Beam
(ANTI-)
*5.0*
Goes well with: Zappa, the guy from the micro-machines commercials

Regan Farquhar, aka Busdriver, needs to shut the fuck up for a minute. Seriously. I mean, the Los Angeles MC possesses one of the most unique and nimble flows in the game, and his verbal acuity shames 99 percent of his peers.

But I’ll be damned if most of his albums don’t take 72 listens to figure out what the hell he’s saying. I get it: You can spit fast and stay witty. But if I need to reach for the ibuprofen every time one of your records comes on, it has to be defeating the purpose.

And things were going so well. Roadkill Overcoat, from 2007, showed such promise. While still dominated by tracks with intelligent, mile-a-minute rhymes over consistently intriguing beats, it also contained a middle section of songs that slowed things down enough to get the message across in the first listen and stay true to his incomparable style.
Sadly, his eighth effort, Jhelli Beam, is a return of the urban auctioneer.

And don’t get me wrong. Dude is genius. He does things like sample Can and re-imagine Mozart symphonies, and he has guest stars like Deerhoof’s John Dietrich. He’s anything but tired, incredibly funny and ridiculously talented. But if listening to an album is this exhausting, I’m just not going to bother.