ARTO/NETO

"Imperfect Reflections" (Early version)
Arto/Neto - Pini, Pini b/w Malu
(12" Maxi-Single, Ze Records, 1978)

Whilst the power/ideas of some of the initial no-wave groups (ie. Lydia Lunch & James Chance’s outfits) has since been eroded – due in part to their aesthetic becoming a style in itself (ie. Lydia Lunch ended up pioneering an anti-style that became as standard as sped up Chuck Berry riffs…) among the undergrowth of the no-wave “discography” there still remains bizarre and unusual music. Possibly one of the more perplexing items (along with U.S. Millie, the final Mars EP, and the Boris Policeband 7") is the one-off collaboration between S. Neto (real name; Seth Tillet, artist/designer/early Contortions guitarist) & Arto Lindsay (DNA, Lounge Lizards etc.), "Arto/Neto" - "Pini, Pini", an oblique two track (four track?) single (EP?) recorded mid 1978.

The music itself, while strange, is not a radical departure for the two artists, Pini, Pini is seemingly...straight ahead (rhythmically speaking) foreshadowing Arto Lindsays later work as Ambitious Lovers; post-disco/pre-techno hi-hats loop (the lack of kick drum or any other rhythmic element undermining any potential as a dance floor "mutant disco" tune) over a fake-Jamaican spoken word - trademark Lindsay guitar outbursts intrude, but very sparingly and unpredictably. Malu is similar to what Lindsay was doing with DNA during that time, very out. Coming off like some lost track from New York In The 1960’s box, European Son style guitar scrapes away alongside/against a constant fiddle drone, not unlike a one-note hoedown ala Henry Flynt. Bass and drums (drum?) punch in like Angus Maclise sitting in on bongos (is that Ikue Mori and Tim Wright helping out?), but only barely (as if someone accidentally opened a door, then quickly closed it)

The artwork is pared back, in some ways more "uninformative" then the music; unassuming green text precisely centered against a background of unyielding, so bright as too be a little gross, yellow (1)

The front & back covers almost seem like a reflection of each other;

P I N I , PI N I

A R T O / N E T O

(flip the record)

M A L U

A R T O / N E T O

(Centered in the same position, as above)

While this style of design was standard for twelve inch singles of the time this particular release lacks any of the functional purposes that those twelve inches had (y'know a disco twelve inch is for dancing and better low end sound reproduction, what is this for? Beyond, "appreciating" that is...)

The very matter-of-factness becomes problematic; the information becomes deliberately obtuse - so simple it is frustrating;

"Recorded at Blank Tape Studio, NYC Aug. 1978, All words & music S. Neto & Arto Lindsay, Engineer Bob Blank"

Did they have too book studio time ahead? Was this the only document of a series of small collaborations between Tillman and Lindsay? Was this "written" in the studio?

Their (strange) choices in the track sequencing, side a is Pini, Pini then Malu - side b is Malu then Pini, Pini., raise questions about the interrelations between improvisation, composition and sound recording. If a highly frantic, free piece of music that contains nothing for the human ear to "grab" onto, so to speak - free of and/or against timing or repetition, is played to you two times in a row - does its inherent randomness mean that, even though you've listened too it twice in a row, your listening experience of it has been fresh each time - the one track can become two completely different tracks. Is it that on these two tracks Arto & Neto exploit the listeners brain & ears inability to perceive chaos & orderlessness? It brings to mind, though in an opposite way, Fred Friths comments on Don Van Vilets composition style on Trout Mask Replica (2); Vilets wrote highly structured compositions that, on first listening, seem to resemble improvised music - composition that sounds un-composed. It is poses an interesting approach to composition; if you record a composition (in the broadest sense of the word) twice, performing it as similarly as humanly possible each time, and you listen to them twice in a row, even though they are technically different, for all intensive purposes to your brain & ear, are they completely the same?

This release (unintentionally, intentionally, whatever) seems hinged on the idea of a mirror, of inverted reflections. While this is readily obvious in the artwork and the track listing (Side A is Pini, Pini then Malu. Side B is Malu then Pini, Pini.) The inversion/reflection is initially less obvious in the music. The two pieces (four pieces?) seem unrelated to each other, beyond the strangulated guitar work, though structurally they conform to reflection/inversion;

The first track is all voice and rhythm, barely any guitar - the second track is all guitar, no voice (beyond the random intonation of "Malu" in that stretched out Jamaican imitation), and no rhythm; the guitar thrashes away arhythmically. The role of the guitar in the first song is taken on by the voice in the second, and vice versa - their roles invert, they reflect. The aimless story of Pini touches upon a “man who played fiddle, another who play guitar,”, just like the instrumentation of the next track....Is Malu an imagined recreation of the two musicians in the story? is Pini, Pini & Malu a no-wave radio play - an exercise in abstracted non-narrative? Is Malu the bullcow? One of the musicians?

Arguably, given the integral nature of the artwork (the music is part and parcel with its packaging) the 12" comes across as a mass produced art edition masquerading as a music record, an audio-visual package. The seemingly bizarre choice to have this record released as a 12" instead of a 7" (given the short running time of the material, and the preference within "punk" circles of the 7" over the 12") suggests that, from the outset this was a conceptual vehicle. The increased size of the 12" format (over the 7") affords more space for the artwork; it just looks larger, there is more negative space, the text is even more isolated, the yellow more nauseating - the 12" becomes a print with an edition of commercial proportions(3).

Something about the deceptive simpleness of this release makes me believe that the conceptual inception of the whole project was probably impromptu; a casual idea that was inadvertently developed upon - possibly an innocent glance of the words ARTO / NETO on a piece of paper could have been the impetuous for the whole thing. Even the pseudo pornographic lyrics seem, uh, tossed off – a private joke that kept on running. The ongoing strength of this release is its open endedness. It still remains strange and alien - unanswerable.

Footnotes:

(1) There is a small logo; a plane with the text D/A - except the logo is crossed out; this logo in itself is another question mark.

(2) The exact quote, from an interview in the New Musical Express in 1974: 'It is always alarming to hear people playing together and yet not in any recognizable rhythmic pattern. This is not free music; it is completely controlled all the time, which is one of the reasons it's remarkable, forces that usually emerge in improvisation are harnessed and made constant, repeatable.')

(3) That said, contrary to this idea, Ze was in a habit of release maxi-12"s, the same year as this release they re-released the first (and ony) Mars 7" as a 12", the Rosa Yemen EP (itself a similarly strange 12", but the purpose is a little more clear)



(Published in Negative Guest List, Issue #29, 2011)