Tortoise, A Lazarus Taxon, a smattering of miscellaneous thoughts…

• The packaging is a sheer joy. Once the cellophane’s removed and the disposable title for the hard of thinking is disposed of, I’m left with a gorgeously seductive black and whiteimage that recalls THX1138 and Solaris (Tarkovsky’s naturlich). That the image, its perfect vanishing point disturbed by the car wreck wraps itself over the edge of the box and onto its sides only makes the image more seductive still. The thematic variations of the inner sleeves and the fine band image on the booklet all marry into a cool, playful, serious, stylish and cohesive whole. Pretty much like most of the music gathered inside. Standards and TNT were also fine examples of sleeve design (Millions Now Living and It’s All Around You imo were not), but this is their best yet. (Well, I’m not amazed by the back cover – with regrettable typo – and the typography’s not anything to particularly write home about, but I’m willing to let that go. The titles do appear on the spine, but this is a relatively rare instance of a cover that entirely foregoes type on the front – other examples: Joy Division’s Unknown Pleasures, Tortoise’s own collab w/ Bonnie Billy (The Brave and the Bold). What else?

• Arnold Odermatt, the photographer credited with the images is a fascinating discovery – a retired Swiss policeman who documented traffic accidents as part of his daily work, but then returned later to capture images as part of the wider landscape – beautify, eery and clearly a part of the continuum upon which Ballard’s Crash, Godard’s Weekend and Kraftwerk’s Autobahn lie.

• If I listen attentively to Tortoise (in this case Didjeridoo from the first disc of A Lazarus Taxon), I hear echoes of jazz, minimalism, electronica, rock and film soundtracks all woven into a single, unselfconscious and cohesive whole. The general impression (perhaps attributable solely to my own unreliable memory) I’ve gained of critical responses to the group’s work is that they’re very clever, very studious and studied. Yet what comes shining through much of their best work is the subservience of structure and form to feeling. Clearly, they take great care in this and this care intrudes upon any attempt to let rip, but to my mind that’s a small price to pay for the loving detail and the intricacy of their productions – listen, for example, to the patience of Autumn Sweater and, in particular, its final minute of muffled warmth. This is not to say that I’m yet convinced about all the music contained in this box, however…

• At something like £12 + p&p this 3CD + DVD package is almost irresistible and takes its place alongside the similar roundup (and price) of the Stereolab EP and ‘B’ sides box, Oscillons From The Anti-Sun.