from the LP Vento Sul, Odeon Fonográfica, 1972
The cover art for this utterly captivating & enigmatic album is a good indication of what lies between the grooves: a swell of warm hazy vibrations from outer (inner?) space that slowly floods into the listener’s mind like a pool of cannabis-infused caramel, coating your brain with luscious layers of sunny melodies and sleepy beats; this particular track espouses the end of autumn like no other, that lightly strummed acoustic guitar shuffling through the piles of dead leaves as the patient rhythm section ambles along through the calm skies, wary of the storm ahead, heeding the wintry warning call of that creeping electric guitar. Marcos Valle is one of the most celebrated Brazilian musicians from the ‘60s & ‘70s, a perpetual hippie who found inspiration within a plethora of music scenes from outside his homeland, dipping his cup into some psychedelic prog-rock Kool-Aid on this stellar LP (backed by his fellow countrymen, O Terço). Smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em…
from the LP …e a Tropa Maldita, Continental Records, 1973
Fuck man---as long as I continue to unearth mind-blowing gems like this entire LP, there appears to be no end in sight of my unceasing obsession with Brazilian music, something about the boundless & intrepid approach which gets me floating along through those blissful fields of mental repose and creative possibility. Paulo Bagunça told Rolling Stone in an interview that his music, “…only come’s from within, the heart of the cave, dreams and nightmares…” I’m telling you people, there exists a palpable energy woven into the measures of the songs found on this album, a feeling of mystery, but an atmosphere of celebration; this particular track expands like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, woodsy percussion & driving bassline leading the way, and that sing-along chorus brings the campfire vibe just right.
from the LP Tim Maia, Polydor Records, 1976
The people of Brazil endured one of the modern world’s longest lasting military dictatorships (officially, between 1964 and 1985), a murderous and intractable regime which attacked creative people as if they were the devil themselves, forcing many to abandon ship for various periods of time, & coercing those who remained into a constant sense of tight-lipped accordance--- well, most people anyways. Some, like Tim Maia, hit the wall of resistance and came back with a different synopsis: fuck it man, I’m gonna be me. Although many Brazilian musicians of this time period sought to incorporate varying styles of popular music outside of the regime, most did so with the intent to keep samba or bossa-nova at the core; well, with Mr. Maia, that went out the door. He was primarily interested in creating a Brazilian version of American soul, flexible to the trends as they progressed (i.e. from outright “soul”, to funky soul, rockin’ soul, and disco-funk, etc…); frankly, his approach winds up feeling like the Doobie Brothers go to South America, and that’s meant as a major compliment. Tim Maia was a publicly avowed pothead, talking up the benefits of marijuana in almost any interview he gave, something which wound up making his life in Brazil somewhat thorny at times, but translates impeccably well in his music; not to mention, there weren’t too many individuals willing to harshly confront Roman Catholicism in those days (or now), “…everybody is the same…’cause there’s no heaven, there’s no God, ‘cause there’s no devil, there’s no hell…you are not better than me, and I am not better than you…” Thankfully, though he suffered through many physiological ailments in his time (diabetes, hypotension, et al.), Maia lived to see the restoration of democracy in Brazil---vivo o João Goulart, and long live freedom!!
from the LP Arthur Verocai, Continental Records, 1972
It’s always an exhilarating experience when you hear a song you’ve never heard before that really rocks your world, and thus, there’s absolutely nothing better for a music obsessive like myself than discovering an entire LP of solid tunes by a previously unknown musician or band, a situation which typically only presents itself a few times a year anymore. This particular album, by Brazilian producer, multi-instrumentalist & composer Arthur Verocai, is so mind-blowingly stellar that it could have been the only great LP I heard all year, and that would have still been enough to sate my appetite--- yes, it’s that good. No two songs are alike, and yet there is a loosely experimental vein that runs through them all (not “experimental” like Throbbing Gristle mind you, but more like investigational and firmly open-minded), weaving bits & pieces of soul, funk, bossa, salsa, jazz, folk, & psych rock into a heady quilt of sweetly melancholic chord progressions and hazy enchanted melodies. Thanks to Bee for the heads up on this one.
from the LP Muita Zorra, Forna Records, 1971
Behind virtually every great singer / songwriter there stands an equally deft backing band, often times great forces in and of themselves, although they rarely get the notice or mention they deserve outside of discussions about the artists they support: Crazy Horse, The E Street Band, The Heartbreakers, etc… Thus, it’s no surprise that Brazilian group Trio Mocotó is almost always mentioned (if at all) as being the backing band for Jorge Ben in the ‘70s; in actuality, these three guys had been jamming together for a few years before Ben ever took them out on tour or into the studio. Their attempts at introducing samba rhythms & grooves into a funky rock template were highly successful, both with Ben and on their own, as they adroitly prove throughout this self-titled LP which fetches about $100 at auctions these days. As someone once declared, “…if you can’t dance to this, you got no business havin’ feet…”!!
from the LP Zeca Do Trombone & Roberto Sax, Pirata Records, 1976
With a culture as large and diverse as theirs is, and an economy that just keeps growing & growing, it’s no surprise that everything is coming up roses for Brazil of late, scoring both the 2014 World Cup & the 2016 Summer Olympics. I can certainly enjoy the music of Brazil during any time of the year (in fact, there’s nothing quite like driving through a Colorado blizzard to the sounds of Gal or Os Mutantes), but there’s no denying that summer really gets me blasting these breezy vibes from my home and car stereo more than ever---not to mention, all the Caipirinhas and Dark-n-Stormy’s that such tunes tend to encourage the drinking of! The snappy drumming in this track is a breaks-head’s dream come true, tighter than a virgin at a prison rodeo yet somehow still remaining loose and funky; the brass is sharp as a tack also, and although I don’t know what they are saying (the title translates to “middle column”), that rhythmic style in which the frenzied chorus is dispensed pulls everything together impeccably. Viva o Brasil!!
from the LP Os Mutantes, Polydor Records, 1968
Being referred to as “the Brazilian Beatles” must have been both a blessing & a curse for Os Mutantes, the startlingly imaginative trio from São Paulo who set the world on fire with their fusion of blistering psych rock and bossa vibes---mostly a blessing I presume; although Caetano Veloso gets much of the credit for the founding of tropicália, the Mutantes arguably took that creative spirit inherent to the scene leagues further than any of their compatriots, incorporating elements of the avant garde, neo-classical & even prog rock into their extraordinary and outlandish musical collages. This track is off of their debut album and is essentially a love song (pardon my broken Portuguese translation), “…the silver moon hid and the golden sun appeared, dawned a beautiful day…for I dreamed and awoke thinking about her; ‘cause she’s my girl, and I'm her boy…she’s my love…” These breezy bossa melodies can cut right through the greyest of days, and yet that beachy ambiance doesn’t hinder the lysergic fuzz-laced guitar attack in the least.
from the 7” single, Tapecar Records, 1971
Cutting smoothly between fierce jazz-funk, breezy bossa nova & full tilt samba-soul, this Brazilian burner by singer Rosa Maria keeps me coming back for more every time---I think the tambourine during the chorus seals the deal. This song is tight without feeling the least bit stuffy, familiar but somehow twisted & new, as refreshing as drinking a fucking caipirinha on the strip at Ipanema beach in Rio! Considering the size of their population, one has to imagine that crusty record stores across that vast nation must hold an infinite array of ‘70s fusion treats like this, so it’s no wonder that Brazil has continued to be a crate-diggers destination for decades. The title of this song loosely translates to “let’s not leave”, and I gotta tell you, if I was at some joint right now with a full live band jamming on shit like this, I wouldn’t leave until the sun came up.
from the LP Gal, Phillips Records, 1969
Backed by the incendiary & psychedelic crew of Os Brazões, the undisputed queen of Tropicália, Miss Gal Costa, turns in her most decidedly “out-there” album ever in this self-titled LP, making her admittedly freaky fellow Brazilian rockers Os Mutantes sound relatively tame in contrast. Drawing a comparison doesn’t really work here, but Gal was surely influenced by such wild women as Janis & Tina Turner, perhaps Grace Slick most of all, or maybe I just feel that way due to the Jefferson Airline-esque backing music, which is bass-driven and absolutely searing, like a fucking hit of DMT to the dome-piece in some places. Perhaps not surprisingly if you consider the twisted acidy vibe, when I translated the Portuguese lyrics to this song I found the whole thing appears to be about the apocalypse, “…now I’m not afraid…God forbid that I should be afraid now, after I have already played in the world; God forbid that I should be afraid now, after I have set foot on the bottom...after the end of all fear, the end of the world…from the end of everything…the end!!!” Given the autocratic, not to mention murderous, military junta which controlled Brazil at the time, these words could very well have carried two meanings, secretly encouraging the free-thinkers to stand strong.
from the LP Os Brazões, RGE Records, 1969
Although I tend to be highly critical of most American “music” publications these days, Wax Poetics is one very extraordinary exception to that ire, a magazine so thoughtfully put together that I would probably spend twice what they charge for copies of it---yes, it’s that good. A couple of months ago they produced an entire issue dedicated to Brazilian music, specifically from the ‘60s & ‘70s. Of all the albums I wound up purchasing in its wake (for real, if you are a lover of music, don’t ever open the first page unless you are ready to be buying some music that same night), this long player by Os Brazões drifts hazily to the top of the pile, in my humble opinion anyways. They backed Gal Costa on her psychedelic freakout of a self-titled album (sometimes known as Cinema Olympia), and if you thought it couldn’t get any better than that, it DOES!!! Anyone who smokes marijuana must own this album, go buy the CD reissue right now, I’m serious. Their mix of Brazilian undertones and rhythms, acid skronk fuzz guitars, trippy Sgt. Pepper-esque effects, and 4 part melodies has kept me floating above the ozone for weeks now. Seriously people, BRAZIL
from the LP Vento Sul, Odeon Fonográfica, 1972
