Tom Zé, the Japanese of Invention

Watch him handling his unusual instruments, made out of electrical appliances, horns and PVC tubes, and it will be hard to believe that the tropicalist Tom Zé is already 64 years old. With success kicking in ten years after producer David Byrne dragged him back from the oblivion faced in the 70s and 80s, the veteran singer/songwriter seems younger and willing to experiment more every time. Now, he presents Jogos de Armar (Faça Você Mesmo), or Interactive Games (Do It Yourself), his first disc produced and recorded in Brazil in 16 years, slated to come out on November 22, during a concert in São Paulo.

In the show, besides a number of new songs, Tom Zé takes on a project that had been abandoned by the late 70s, when he built a series of odd instruments, such as the polisherscope (made out of blenders, floor polishers and vacuum cleaners), the chainsawtery (a gadget made with assorted tubes and pipes – wood, PVC, etc.) and the pioneering hertzé (a type of primitive pre-sampler). In this exclusive interview to AllBrazilianMusic, Tom Zé talks about his "instromzéments", the new album, his ghosts, the critics and the feeling of rejuvenation brought along with success. And he defines himself s a "working Japanese".

AllBrazilianMusic – What’s your expectation of restarting a project that had been kept aside for two decades?
Tom Zé – Fear. As I am always going for the risk, I am equally on the border between ludicrousness and creativity, and I dread. There are a number of things that shall be tested for the very first time in this show, in front of an audience. In fact, we always tremble a bit before taking the stage, but nobody will admit to it. We are lucky because, during the rehearsals, 80% of the new songs came out all right.

ABM – Do you try to reproduce the songs live exactly the way they were recorded?
Tom Zé – When I am recording, the song will come out with its own characteristics. This time around, there are a few adaptations, but the musicians got to be alive in my show. I won’t play a show where the musician just stands there, playing and sleeping. They have to look at me all the time because I might want to do something different. I am not a ready-made artist. I only become an artist, with my fear, when I’m up on the stage.

ABM – How did the public react to your instruments in 1978, when you first presented them?
Tom Zé – The public came to check me out without notice that such things could happen, although the newspapers had given a hint. I remember going to (Som Livre’s president) João Araújo’s studio in Rio de Janeiro, in 1980, after remodeling these instruments. I also took some pictures with me, to try and sell the project. He was ashamed to see them. A reaction seemingly of those who would say: "What the fuck is this thing gonna do to the music?"

ABM – And what do you have to say to those people who might still be surprised by your "instromzéments"?
Tom Zé – It’s like looking at a horse in the wilderness and going: "Now, that is power." I mean power as in physical strength, not muscular, more like in Physics, that energy that can move things from one place to another. When someone would see a horse in the forest in the century 5 B.C., and you told a reporter (laughs) that that was motor force, wouldn’t it sound absurd? Still, human beings are insane and always go for the metaphoric conclusions. Here, after working very hard, I managed to control the tempo and relative volume of those instruments. They offer me something next to noise and next to an organization that amounts to syntax.

ABM – Are these the same instruments that you built in the 70s or did you have to remodel them?
Tom Zé – Almost all of them were destroyed, because I couldn’t store them. They were taken to a friend’s farmhouse, but his father was not supportive and had the caretaker burn the wooden sticks during a colder winter. We only kept a few floor polishers and blenders. Others, we got from a warehouse. They have to be metallic, because of the vibration.

ABM – What caused you to make these instruments?
Tom Zé – I was a student at the Escola de Música da Bahia (Bahia Music School) when my teacher Ernst Widmer, referring to Ravel’s Bolero, said: "Look how funny! This song is in C sharp all the time. It’s only got about 16, 20, 40 compasses in E flat. What’s interesting, though, is that the percussion instruments seem to be modulating from C sharp to E flat, along with the orchestra". That stuck to my mind. Years later, in my home, someone gave me an electric floor polisher that I was supposed to fix. What was wrong with it? It would stop working as the start button was pressed. I noticed I could build a rhythmic pattern with it. So, instead of fixing it, I broke a number of other polishers. That’s how the idea was born.

ABM – Did you have then the production structure that you have now for live performances?
Tom Zé – No. When I was making these instruments for the first time, my wife Neuza agreed that we sell our beach house. Then, the albums that I made with North-Americans, always very economic, were made with much precision. This time around, I’m not saying that we wasted resources, but I could count on whatever I needed, although in a very humble manner, because I don’t have that corporate mind. On a next step, the floor polishers will be working through more sophisticated technology, that has been offered me by the Japanese.

ABM – What are the highlights of your new disc?
Tom Zé – There are so many details in this album that I’m afraid I have inserted too much information into a single object. There’s the idea of the auxiliary CD, a novelty that may help multiplying my partners. There are many studio-related things, which wouldn’t have been possible without Alê Siqueira’s help. I also hope that people will dig the multi-sided songs that have no melody, but have varied happenings that can be psychological, or text-related or even melodic, all at once. It’s kind of a cubist way of writing songs that I had been envisioning for a long while. And there are also the instruments that interfere with a different type of sound. I confess that I fear that the same thing that happened to Estudando o Samba will happen to this one: that all these things will only be discovered and understood much later.

ABM – Do you care about the critics?
Tom Zé – No. The critics have the right to charge from the artists. If the artist goes into a studio to make a new album thinking that their bed is made, the critic has the right to say: "This ain’t no joke, you motherfucker! You enjoy fame, but you’re showing no respect for the fans who love you." I enjoy loving my art; I enjoy the love of it that I feel. I’m not very good at making myself feel worthy, but I have, with the help of psychiatrists, the ability to make music that is worked on. When I see a DeNiro or an Al Pacino movie, I know they are big screen heroes, but I love them for the love that they have of cinema. I am not a genius or even a great composer, but I am Japanese. I’m a working Japanese who, with the little inspiration that God has given me, I’ll do my work. So I can say that I do respect the public, as well as the critics.

ABM – How did the new style that you’re launching in Jogos de Armar come up?
Tom Zé – I have always worked with hybrid beats, but the chamegá really is different. My drummer, Lauro Léllis, told me a long time ago that I should go and make an album only with this beat. I created the acoustic guitar beat in 1977, but such things don’t happen overnight. Someone suggested a drum pattern, which Lauro completed later. The musicians were curious and made suggestions. I tried to record it on my previous disc, but it didn’t work out. It’s only happened now.

ABM – And where did you take the name chamegá from?
Tom Zé – It’s because of Luiz Gonzaga, who used to sing a song called Chamego. I thought that chamegá sounded northeastern, besides being a nice name.

ABM – It seems that success, although kicking in late, is working as the fountain of youth for you...
Tom Zé – True. Which reminds me of that Fitzgerald character who is born an old man and dies while crawling back to his mother’s uterus. Only, I didn’t have a terrible childhood. I never starved, but I did undergo the greatest miseries that the spirit can take. I couldn’t go to school, because the kids would beat me up and kick me out. I was ashamed of walking down the street. The beginning of my career was very disorganized. Before Tropicalism, I did those crazy things because I didn’t know how to make music. During tropicalism, I was confused, I wanted to give up. Only later, making these instruments, did I feel like coming back to life, again. And now, people greet me on the streets because I have become popular. I like it. I don’t think it’s a bore. I think it is so nice, like when I lived in the countryside and everybody greeted everybody. The feeling of youth is related to the will of doing new things, which people usually experience when they’re 30 or 40. I am really interested in developing these instruments, now.

ABM – Is this the same set that you’ll perform at the Rock In Rio festival?
Tom Zé – No, because we’ll only have a half-hour, there. But we are planning to have at least one number in the set with these instruments. In fact, I love a shorter gig. Fifteen minutes is the ideal, in my opinion. When I was turned popular and played that festival (Abril Pro Rock) in Recife, my set was supposed to have lasted 45 minutes, but I only did 37. I enjoy short gigs. Stages are covered in glue, and some artists will only leave by force.