Arto Lindsay

Arto Lindsay was one of the intellectuals of rock who, at the end of the 1970s, changed the meaning of “rock music,” turning it into an abstract and conceptual musical genre. Lindsay was, in fact, one of the leading figures of New York’s “no wave,” one of the ascetics who composed rock music that was increasingly less listenable and ever more austere.

The son of Presbyterian missionaries, Lindsay grew up in a Brazilian monastery. In 1977, he was performing in New York’s alternative clubs at the head of DNA, with Robin Lee Crutchfield on keyboards and Ikue Mori on drums. All three were self-taught (indeed, practically musically illiterate), and they created a sound that was the musical equivalent of a nervous tic: the guitar, played in an atonal manner, is an obsessive screech at the most irritating frequencies; the drums are little more than a single tom, played in a childish and raucous way, vaguely inspired by the cadences of kabuki theater; and the electronic organ repeats anemic melodies endlessly, following the sadistic “neuro-electronic” theory of the Suicide.

The group debuted with the single You And You, but gained recognition through the compilation No New York (Antilles, 1978). The trio’s abrasive, dissonant fusion found expression in the grinding rhythms and titanic screams of despair of Not Moving, in the wild sub-funk “contortion” of Size, in the syncopated delirium of Egomaniac’s Kiss, and above all in the turbulence of Lionel, an instrumental piece that is a small masterpiece of abstract harmony—two dense minutes alternating bursts of nuclear radiation with spasms of epileptic robots.

At the same time, Lindsay recorded with fellow countryman Neto the EP Pini Pini (Ze, 1978), whose two tracks are split across the two sides. The title track is a story told to a samba rhythm with occasional guitar noises; Malu is a piece of disjointed Anglo-Portuguese mumbling and guitar detuning, a sort of stripped-down Sister Ray.

When the EP A Taste Of DNA (American Clave, 1981) was released, Crutchfield had already left, and the sound had changed somewhat. Without the gloomy organist, Lindsay’s guitar art became even more aggressive and concise, making good use of particularly unpleasant vocal qualities, Ikue Mori’s percussive tribalism, and the clean bass of newcomer Tim Wright (formerly of Pere Ubu).
The record is full of revolutionary experiments: the breathless anti-rhythm of New Fast (a childlike Captain Beefheart in the throes of nausea), the persistent tribalism of 5:30, the driving powwow of Blonde Red Head, and martial micro-abstractions like 32123; but what makes the work immortal are the dilated nightmare of Lying On The Sofa Of Life—where free-form becomes “blank-form” and the sound disappears entirely, pulverized into sound entities without identity—and even more so New New, in which the languages of guitar and voice are reduced to an agitated vocabulary of crackles and detunings (the first) and guttural syllables and spasmodic stammering (the second). Off-key tones reign supreme, and the sound is nothing but an irritating buzz over the disordered trot of the drums. A catalog of primitivist chasms and micro-genetics of the expressionist scream, the work of DNA remains a landmark in the gradual reconstruction of the rock song, from Beefheart to the avant-garde.

For the soundtrack of Fruit Of The Original Sin (1981), DNA performed several much less evocative tracks, showing how their naïve art could easily slip into gratuitous exhibitionism.

DNA on DNA (No More, 2004) is a compilation that collects all of DNA’s recordings.

In the following years, Lindsay was active on all fronts of the “no wave” movement: he lent a hand to the Love Of Life Orchestra of Peter Gordon, assisted James Chance in the Pill Factory, served as the driving force behind John Lurie’s Lounge Lizards, played samba with a group of Brazilians (Samba Spaceship) in New York nightclubs, refined the jazz-fusion of Anton Fier’s Golden Palominos, and performed in duos—first with violinist Walter Steding, then with Fred Frith. He was soon dubbed by the New York press “the king of noise.”

The vocal trio Ambitious Lovers, with David Moss and Mark Miller, was his most radical experiment in desecrating musical conventions. Soon joined by four Brazilian musicians, the seven of them for a time terrorized New York’s alternative scene with the most unbalanced South American fusion of the century. On Envy (Eg-Jem, 1984), they were joined by Swiss electronic musician Peter Scherer, whose disorienting keyboard arrangements and Fier’s percussion enriched the sound. The psychotic dissonances and horribly mutilated harmonies that formed the core of Lindsay’s reductionist, deconstructivist rock ideology were transformed into a subtly “deviant” dance-floor folklore, exemplified by devolved sambas like Too Many Mansions, industrial-paced funk such as Crowning Roar, disco-soul numbers like Let’s Be Adult, and funky minimalism in Trouble Maker. The “negative” hiccup of DNA resurfaces in instrumentals such as Venus Lost Her Shirt and in surreal tape-manipulation gags like Nothingness Monstered. The whirling techno-dance of Locus Coruleus represents the album’s ultimate synthesis. Within a postmodern framework, Lindsay adopts a pop crooning style with Brazilian inflections and a sound balanced between Byrne-like ethno-funk and the most facile radio-friendly easy listening.

The continuation of this album is Greed (Virgin, 1988), a collaboration solely with Peter Scherer, alternating between commercial songs (Love Overlap, a wicked and driving rhythm and blues; Copy Me, another disco-soul track), interludes of avant-funk (Omotesando, Too Far, Dot Stuff), and a pan-ethnic form of ballad that incorporates elements of batucada (King), samba (Admit It), and bossa nova (Caso) into the conventions of Western dance music. The experiment is mature for mass distribution: tropical hedonism and technocratic anarchy have found a perfect balance, and even Lindsay’s toneless and decadent singing finds its logic within this framework.

The music of intellectuals, or of strategists, corrodes entertainment music (whether club or disco), having glimpsed the ultimate goal: a brief, disarticulated sound, halfway between a scream and silence, which would become the future of entertainment music.

Arto Lindsay holds a dual importance in the New York no wave scene: he is one of the clearest-thinking intellectuals of the movement (to which he transmits some of the ideas of Brazilian “tropicalismo”) and the most influential atonal guitarist.

The Ambitious Lovers have been reduced to what they were from the start: a duo of atonal guitarist Arto Lindsay (Brazilian) and electronic keyboardist Peter Scherer (Swiss). This pair of “pop” intellectuals (in the sense of “pop art”) repeatedly sought to deconstruct and reconstruct the modern song, even drawing on South American folklore, achieving at least some suggestive results in Let’s Be Adult and King.

The music composed by the two for theater and ballet was collected on Pretty Ugly (Made To Measure, 1990). The suite that gives the album its title is perhaps the summa of Lindsay’s instrumental art: electronics and percussion are used in ways as innovative as they are expressive, fusing inspiration from the industrial metropolis (the cacophonies) with that from the pre-industrial rural world (South American rhythms). Austere And Hungry (the most symphonic piece) and Sirens also lie at the boundary between ambient and industrial music, while Nature Of Slam and Bold Condensed emphasize funky cadences. The cluster-distorted guitar chords, metallic percussiveness, and orchestral synths are reminiscent of European avant-garde music.

Lust (Elektra, 1991) completes the metamorphosis (already begun on previous Ambitious Lovers albums) from “negative” underground intelligence to disco crooner. The harmonies of Slippery and Monster are increasingly shaped by funky rhythms, pop melodies, and orchestral arrangements. Marc Ribot (on “real” guitar) and Nana Vasconcelos on percussion complete the core lineup, to which, as usual, various guest musicians are added. But it is Scherer who is now the true master of the ensemble: he directs the music, constructs the arrangements, leads the orchestra, and fills the harmonies with electronic counterpoints.
What remains of Lindsay is primarily ideological: in a cold, “declamatory” register, Lindsay sings morbid and romantic lyrics, ambiguous and metaphorical (rarely venturing on guitar). Perhaps his vocal ability is the most significant novelty of this new phase. Otherwise, the album is a soul record imbued with “saudade,” as in the title track and Villain, at times alienated, as in the stretched and narcotic lament of It’s Gonna Rain, and at other times anguished, as in the thriller-like atmosphere and cacophonies of More Light. Counterbalancing these highly conceptual and atmospheric songs is the more rhythmic and gritty sound of Tuck It In and Half Out Of It, not far from Peter Gabriel’s funky experiments, and the lighter, more cheerful vibe of Make It Easy. The variety of moods redeems the uniformity of the arrangements. Their pop is extremely refined, almost “chamber-like,” or a kind of abstraction of pop.

After the group disbanded, Scherer recorded the atmospheric Very Neon Pet (Metro Blue), while Lindsay formed a trio with bassist Melvin Gibbs (of the Rollins Band) and drummer Dougie Bowne (Lounge Lizards), recording Aggregates 1-26 (Knitting Factory, 1995), consisting of 26 improvised tracks.

With a host of distinguished guests, Lindsay then transformed into an imitator of Caetano Veloso on O Corpo Subtil / The Subtle Body (Bar None, 1996), a collection of romantic songs in the style of 1950s bossa nova (an idea suggested to him by Ryuichi Sakamoto). Sterile and soporific, the album manages to put even figures like Brian Eno, Bill Laswell, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Bill Frisell, and Marc Ribot to sleep. Elegance and mystery save 4 Skies and No Meu Sotaque.

Lindsay returned to prominence with the Brazilian ballads of Mundo Civilizado (Bar/None, 1997), which deepen that discourse with an intellectual approach, enough to make it a journalistic case. Among covers of Prince, Al Green, and Caetano Veloso, emerge liturgies soaked in “saudade,” such as Complicity, employing inventive rhythms and disorienting arrangements. More than the sumptuous orchestrations of Mundo Civilizado, perhaps what captivates are the free-spirited pleasures of Q Samba and Pleasure (samba as performed by Broadway orchestras in the 1950s), and especially the delicate melodic calligrams of Imbassai, presenting him as an intimate singer-songwriter—unfortunately remaining the exception rather than the rule. A transitional album attempting to remedy the sterility of the previous record without renouncing the tropicalist vocation, Mundo Civilizado is undermined at its core by the acoustic arrangements.

Hyper Civilizado is an album of remixes.

For years, Lindsay had abandoned the role of sound terrorist to become one of the spokesmen of postmodernism, but these are mediocre albums, often sounding as if played by a comical imitator of classic light music—pale works in comparison to the creative tenets of the “no wave.”

The third part of the Brazilian trilogy, Noon Chill (Rykodisc, 1998), overcomes the limitations of the previous albums with a much more aggressive arrangement, often driven by electronic keyboards, directly inspired by the remix album. At the very least, it recalls the punk of earlier times, as well as the skillful composer of the Ambitious Lovers who could merge the elegance of Brazilian pop with the urban neuroses of New York. Nana Vasconcelos and Melvin Gibbs this time form the backbone of the music, which ranges from the fierce dance of Anything to the tender melody of Whirlwind, culminating perhaps in the fusion of Blue Eye Shadow, the track that most evokes the Ambitious Lovers. The album represents a remarkable leap in quality within Lindsay’s “Brazilian” program.

Finally, Arto Lindsay's total immersion in his roots paid off. Prize (Righteous Babe, 2000) weds abrasive, intellectual noise, electronic sound effects and sensual, languid Brazilian music. Other than a few songs sung in Portuguese (that stick to the traditional format of "tropicalismo"), the album is a collection of complex compositions built on top of simple songs. The rhythmic countercurrent of The Prize is disturbed by a chamber orchestra of strings and horns. Prefeelings paints a surreal soundscape industrial noise, jazz saxophones and frantic beats while two voices argue in completely different tones and styles. The experiments on rhythm peak with Unsure, that flirts with the torrid intensity of drum'n'bass. Percussions, keyboards and saxophone are all used slightly out of context in the otherwise soulful Ondina. Ditto for the strings and the trumpet in the equally soulful Resemblances. To contrast the bold fusion of the previous tracks, the album ends with E Ai Esqueco, a collaboration with Blonde Redhead that yields a tender piano-based lullaby. It is literally the marriage of two cultures, the culture of the New York avantgarde and the culture of Brazialian pop music. Lindsay has finally reinvented "tropicalismo" for the new century. This is certainly not Lindsay's most adventurous album, but probably his most sophisticated.

There is too much Latin rhythm on Invoke (Righteous Babe, 2002), but this time tracks such as Ultra Priviliged and Unseen exude the surreal quality of early Soft Machine (pop-jazz and poetry). Lindsay absorbs, processes and recycles soul (Illuminated, Over/Run), tribal disco (Uma) and glitch electronica (Invoke, You Decide). His goal is a super-fusion (Predigo, The City That Reads) of free jazz, hip hop, funk, acid-rock and Brazilian rhythm that is, quite simply, a metamorphosis of the old Ambitious Lovers program.

Salt (Righteous Babe, 2004) is the natural continuation of Invoke: same concept, same performers, same music. As the doses of electronic sound effects is progressively reduced from the peak of Prize, the regression towards the "pop" style of the Ambitious Lovers becomes even more evident.

Seb El Zin (guitar, vocals), Mike Ladd (vocals), Arto Lindsay (guitar), Marc Ribot (guitar) formed Anarchist Republic of Bzzz, documented on Anarchist Republic of Bzzz (2009) and United Diktaturs of Europe (2016).

De Lama Lamina (2007) was a joint project with multimedia artist Matthew Barney, an hourlong installation of "biomechanical erotica" Set against the backdrop of the Carnaval in Salvador, Brazil.

Scarcity (2013) documents a collaboration with Paal Nilssen-Love; and Cuidado Madame (2017) documents a collaboration with Melvin Gibbs and drummer Kassa Overall.

Arto Lindsay (guitar), Joe McPhee (alto and tenor saxes, pocket trumpet), Ken Vandermark (tenor and baritone saxes, clarinet) and Phil Sudderberg (drums) collaborated on Largest Afternoon (february 2019).

Charivari (2022) is a solo album.