Invoke

1	Illuminated
2	Predigo
3	Ultra Privileged
4	Over/Run
5	Invoke
6	You Decide
7	In the City That Reads
8	Delegada
9	Uma
10	Clemency
11	Unseen
12	Beija-me

Barnes & Noble

Brazilophile Arto Lindsay carries the legacy of tropicália -- the tropical pastiche that defined South American cool in the '60s -- into the future on Invoke. What began as a salute to the country and culture where Lindsay, the son of missionaries, grew up has become the fertile basis of his most mature work. While the famed guitarist led New York's no-wavers in the early '80s and made art out of a resolute inability to play his instrument, Lindsay will no doubt be just as fondly remembered years hence for gorgeous, surprising discs such as this one. The resonances of Brazil's aesthetic -- its slippery lightness, fecund African rhythms, ripe sexuality, omnivorous appetites, and omnipresent juxtaposition of trash and beauty -- come naturally to Arto's music. Sympathetic producer Andres Levin and downtown bassist Melvin Gibbs help Lindsay craft compelling rhythmic beds for his musings, crackling with percussion, the odd electronic blip, feedback, and mirage-like glimpses of acoustic beauty. But they aren't the only ones Lindsay lets into his unique world. On "Predigo," members of the Brazilian rock band Nação Zumbi contribute growling swamp beats; guitarist and longtime Lindsay acolyte Vinicius Cantuaria works his rhythmic magic on strings and cardboard box on "Unseen" and the bossa nova-funk "Beija-Me." While Invoke carries on in the same vein as Lindsay's previous Brazil albums, the sense of refined experimentation is at its greatest, and his crooning -- surprisingly supple and open -- would do tropicália legend Caetano Veloso proud. In fact, with his ever-tightening concept of a new tropical avant-garde, Arto Lindsay may just have lapped his Brazilian heroes. Mark Schwartz

All Music Guide

Seemingly far from the chaotic no wave of DNA, Arto Lindsay continues his explorations into the subtleties of Brazilian pop music. Throughout Invoke, avant-gardisms bubble just below the surface in strange loops and weird drumbeats, occasionally finding their way to the top (such as on "In the City That Reads"). Lindsay fuses the ideas of the art pop of David Byrne with the haunting samples of Soul Coughing's Mark de Gli Antoni. The result is a magical, atmospheric disc that is ambient in its effect with enough surface-level tension to keep the listener engaged. It is undoubtedly mood music. The only problem might be in finding the proper situation in which to listen to the disc. It's a bit too mellow for party listening and perhaps a bit too bright for late-night contemplation. It might be best suited for dusk on a summer evening, letting it provide the transition into darkness. ~ Jesse Jarnow, All Music Guide

Entertainment Weekly

Idiosyncratic pop of the highest order. (A-) Larry Blumenfeld