Bristol
23 November 2025
Label mates Jeremiah Chiu and Marta Sofia Honer had the honour of opening the show with a cherry-blossomed glow of synthesised softness, a sumptuous shiver of Cluster-like rhythmics that seemed part-rehearsed, part-improvised, pillowing on spiralling thermals of live violin.
Marta Sofia Honer swaying into the flow, heightening the modular harmonics that Jeremiah Chiu was plying. The synthesis is jangled, bent up into interesting shapes / a richly furnished melodic, curvaceously drawing you in to its journey. A hazy Ryuichi Sakamoto-esque jigsaw, petalling a few giddy Tangerine Dream moments that you couldn’t help closing your eyes to fully appreciate. A delicate joy that satisfied on so many levels. Next up were Tortoise – my first time seeing these legends, and with their recent Touch LP figure-heading the proceedings those open-ended adventurers flew fiery from the start. Nevada(ry) soft focus they descend — all desert twilights and snaky rhythms, the cold black backdrop behind rippling with an ochre glow as John Herndon’s drums held command over the flex.The audience don’t even have time to cheer properly between as each track quickly follows the last. Loads of slanted easy listening vibes are gloriously subverted, tangled up in that intriguing way Tortoise shuttlecock and dovetail, dance in the campfire’s shadows.
The western wisteria of “Vexations”, the tingling interplay of “Layered Presence” cursively scooping the sunset keylines opening out to a guitared “Savannah”, Dan Bitney swaying to the eddying groove. Their grins testament to the amount of fun they were having, echoed further in their nodding heads, although in the thick of it they were deadly serious. Out of the five assembled, three were multi-instrumentalists who circled between percussive and synthesizer duties with alarming ease. Douglas McCombs swapping between guitar, a Telecaster bass and an impressive six-string Bass VI. Guitarist James Elkington (replacing Jeff Parker) was the only person affixed to his one instrument, although I caught him dabbling with some effects-ridden keys at least once.“Sunday night, yeah…” Dan Bitney shouts from behind the xylophone between song, sarcastically adding with maybe too much enthusiasm “Monday morning… yeaaaahhhh!” The audience light-heartedly booing him down, leading him to smacking himself comically on the head with his beaters for the error, shaking his head adding a whining “Noooooooooo, what am I saying???” Laughter that quickly cut into another choice track.
I can’t be totally sure of the set list, as I was too in the moment for any clearheadedness, but they certainly seemed to churn up a lot of mutated extra in what they played (no doubt I’ll need to revise by donkey-tail pinned song names at a later date). In hindsight, I could have taken some phone clips to remind me, but that shit always messes with the mojo, becomes a barrier to the enjoyment, and enjoy I did in bucketloads. “Swung From The Gutters” plays monkey business with your cranium, the double-drum clamber affixed in wayward orbits — sending a swerve to your hips and abandon to your cares. Dan Bitney and John Herndon are in the zone, not merely mirroring each other, more kind of performing a light-footed boxing match, one countering the other, twisting the tune as the bounce is arced to a fluid flow of frets and rivering chords of synth affixing the betweens.A live take on “Djed” (probably my all time fav Tortoise cut) never materialises, but I’m not complaining; this was a way better outcome, cutting in the new with the old. That totally amazing version of “The Equator” — it seems shameful to try and pin this down to a known song as this feels like an utterly fresh creation that blows me away in a sonic patchwork of burring spars, cross-hatched and conjoining into a funkaholic’s twisted fantasy and more.
The velvety purple / blue stage light behind suiting that slippery eel of a song; was it “Axial Seamount” or maybe something from an earlier album (still have to invest in a lot of that post-TNT action as my eternal want list often outgrows my revenue). A little later, Marta Sofia Honer’s gorgeous violin playing enters the fray for one track, John McEntire’s drums eaten by a lovely metallic reverb that lasts for a few numbers. Phew, they were certainly in a giving mood, those Duane Eddy dives and skating keys are great, blearing headlights that Douglas McCombs fingers cobra-tight in a squeeze of Jimi Hendrix zeal. That skittering softness of “Works And Days”, its shimmer glowing in shirt-tailed bassy repetition.Oooooh this was ace, and it was hard to tear myself away before the encore, but Monday obligations were skull-rattling, so off we snuck into a wet and drizzly November night knowing we’d experienced the lion’s share, if not the crowning glory.
-Michael Rodham-Heaps-
