It was at this precise moment that Tortoise (Feb. 15, Cat's Cradle) made us realize that, unlike most of our lives, we had absolutely no idea what was going to happen next.
First, nobody could even predict who would be on the drums for each song. It could be McEntire, with rapid hands and brilliant form, covering every millimeter of the beat with fierce precision. Maybe Herndon would swing by, laying down intricate cymbal work over intensely driven funk beats. It could be both of them at the same time, as long as the third drummer was out of the way on the vibraphones.
A keyboard system gave spacey, futuristic effects incorporating elements of Kraut- and Synth-rock into an already all-encompassing sound. With such unique instrumentation, watching Tortoise set up was more entertaining than at least 50 percent of the shows I've been to.
The overall sound was a known unknown, too. Not only did Tortoise know what they were doing, they knew they could do absolutely anything. The rhythm and tempo could change at any moment, even in the midst of a scorching Parker solo. One nod of the head would bring an airtight transition from seemingly unrelated sections and instrumentations, but it worked. You didn't have to be a musician to realize that Tortoise never tried to do too much, and that every note was musically or mathematically related to the last (somehow).
Time signatures were not any more of a given. During the second encore set, bassist Doug McCombs led the audience in a complicated clap pattern that nobody could play along with.
Behind the rhythm, Parker's lone guitar and the occasional vibraphones provided glistening melody lines. With so much rhythm, Parker has his work cut out for him, but his contributions are what make Tortoise more than a novelty or exercise in rudimentary innovation.
Tortoise's music is the harmonious representation of the parts of life we often overlook but probably can't figure out by ourselves. If advanced number theory and physics textbooks could make music, it would be Tortoise.
They take a left-field approach to music, but the resulting sound can be digested and appreciated by absolutely anybody in a live setting. As opposed to other over-talented progressive bands that sound like drug-addled noise without a properly tuned ear, Tortoise makes sense. For a band of multi-instrumentalists living on another planet, this is the biggest compliment anybody can give them, and they deserve it.
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Dirty Little Heaters CD Release Show (Saturday, Local 506)
Enough of the instrumental, cultured bands from far-away lands. All we need is some gritty, old-fashioned rock 'n' roll.
Actually, all we need is Reese McHenry and her Durham-based Dirty Little Heaters. Seeing her power into "City Square" without knowing what to expect (or realizing she was the singer) knocked me three feet back. Since then, I've been craving more of her engaging, uncompromising energy.
McHenry's music speaks to a primal instinct that has been suppressed by decades of more "mature" musical innovation. No matter how far music drifts away from classic rock, though, a booming voice like McHenry's will always be welcome.
Also on the night's bill is Durham's Pink Flag. When they want to draw on their punk influences, these ladies heat up, especially on the rare occasion when drummer Jessica unleashes her soulful, sonorous voice.
Recently, if new track "3 6 9" is any indicator, Pink Flag is taking a page out of Sleater-Kinney's book and drifting away from straight-ahead punk to broaden the breadth of its songwriting. Quickly becoming an energetic indie-punk hybrid, Pink Flag has a slew of shows this spring, so don't miss out.
