I felt just like George in Seinfled eating his Kung-Po Chicken while being asked if he had anything to do with the Yankee’s stolen equipment. I really am a journalist honest. At least these words were started to seem more truthful, but only because Brazilian Music Obsessive isn’t actually a job title. I was on the 9th floor of an apartment block in Vila Madalena, a neighbourhood that reveals it’s hippy roots in the names of the roads (Sunflower, Harmony and Wizard are some of my favourites) yet due to the inflation this is hippy as it gets. I was meeting Lulina for an interview. This was EXACTLY what I was doing. Normally I try and walk some fine line where it feels just like a conversation while secretly I am getting all the answers I want. Not this time. We sat down. I tried to make some small talk then realised I had no idea how to speak Portuguese. It was at that point I realised she was sitting there silently staring at me and that there was a flood of sweat pouring from my forehead. It was quite mild on the street that night. Not in her apartment. The heat was incredible! I smiled at her but this only made things more awkward. So, I got my dictaphone out. I figured I could buy some time, twiddling the nobs. It worked. We talked for over half an hour. The sweating stopped at the 10-minute mark. Twice I tried to ask her questions, where despite the words feeling good in my mouth before I spoke them, once they returned to my ears I realised they had no similarity to any known language. It felt like I was giving her questions in the form of those picture puzzles that are broken into eight pieces, and she had to slide them back into place, before she could answer them. It turns out she’s quite good at doing those puzzles, and a lovely lady besides. It seems such a shame she has to work as a publicist’s agent when I’m sure she would be producing unbelievable music like this on a much more regular basis if that were not the case.
Cultura Grátis em São Paulo is my kind of site; a regularly-updated selection of free things to do in Sao Paulo. It may be in Portuguese but it is still extremely useful, with plenty of free music, film showing and art exhibitions to choose from. If you’re in Sao Paulo this is definitely worth checking out:
So, after two failed attempts at arriving at film premiere-style arrangements it seems that music really is my thing. The last three nights have heralded three concerts, all of which I actually managed to find and found before they had finished. First up was the double bill of Lulina and Dudu Tsuda.
Dudu was a bit of a strange cat. He had one of those wispy beards, like he’d taken an uppercut from an angry candy floss, that only Asian people seem to get away with. His music was an interesting melange of general avant-gardeness that never really went anywhere. I got the impression that he was some kind of conceptual mastermind, and I was most definitely not in on it. Here he is performing “Le Jour que Erik Satie a Rencontré Stereo Lab,” which in name alone speaks volumes:
I’m not really sure why I started off with my least favourite video, that didn’t make much sense. Anyway, we shall persevere. Lulina was great! Most definitely in a Jeffrey Lewis vein. I’d been listening to her last two albums and they are good without being great, however live she is spot-on. Track after track of pure pop gold, coupled I’m sure with ascerbic wit which I struggled to really get to grips with. This is “Balada de Paulista,” i.e. ballad of a Sao Paulo-dweller.
Friday night was all about Karina Buhr, whose “Eu Mentí Pra Voce” has been one of my favourite records over the last six months. Dressed in a gold-sequinned catsuit she danced around the stage, grinding whenever an opportunity arose, writhed on the floor in an attempt to disrupt the guitarrist, turned her mic stage into a weapon and set loose on the audience. She was ridiculously good, especially considering she was being backed up by some of the best musicians in Brazil (including Edgar Scandurra and Fernando Catatau) and those great songs off her debut album. This is her performing “Telkphonen,” a strange percussive kraut-rock piece that never gives up on the intrigue.
Tonight I went to see Cerebro Eletronico, an interesting band who have been getting a lot of hype in Sao Paulo, featuring highly in many of the Best of 2010 polls. Without being particularly innovative they are a band that seems at ease producing track after track of 80s New Wave full of funky synths and rousing choruses. This is “Pareco Moderno” which is probably one of my favourites.
My initial plans to update this blog each day have obviously gone by the wayside. 34 degree heat and trying and failing to get to concerts and film premieres in far away neighbourhoods have put to that. In these circumstances, when I look at my notes over the last few days and realise that I could probably write an essay I will simply cut to the chase, through the power of bullet-points!
Once you start on the Jimmy trail there is no way back, as delicately displayed by Herbster at every opportunity. Following the premiere of O Samba Que Mora Em Mim (that was so cruelly denied) I was all set for another premiere. This time it was for Timeless Brasil, a live recording of three concerts by Mulatu Astuke, Suite for Ma Dukes and Arthur Verocai filmed in the US a couple of years ago. As I had spoken to Coleman (one of the guys behind the film) and also kept in close contact with their PR guy it wasn’t too difficult acquiring a free pass for the show. The great news was that it was at Espaco Unibanco, the same place where I had failed to see O Samba Que Mora Em Mim. Perfect, except that it wasn’t. I arrived at Espaco Unibanco and suddenly fear struck my heart. I looked around at all the film posters but couldn’t see anything for Timeless Brasil. It turns out there are a tonne of Espaco Unibancos in Sao Paulo and I was at the wrong one. Of course none of this would have been too bad had this cinema not been a 1h15 minute journey from where I’m staying. That’s 2 and a half hours there and back. You could say my lack of blog entries could be perfectly explained by this. The whole episode reminded me of something I said at work before I left. Claire had said how she was surprised at how I could remember everything without writing anything done. I told her that normally I remember 70% of what people tell me and then just rely on the fact that they’re gonna forget that extra 30% too. Unfortunately when you don’t even look to see where a place is it doesn’t matter what you remember so I don’t know quite where I was going with that one. Anyway…
I shaved my beard off. The hostel then got a complaint by an elderly Brazilian woman. She said she couldn’t use the bathroom, there was hair everywhere. She wasn’t wrong! It was a mess!
Talking of the hostel, I’m staying at Oca Hostel, and will be improving their website over the next couple of weeks. You can check out the current site HERE. It’s a nice place other than the fact that two of the owners have just decided that they want to seperate. It appears that the end of a marriage ain’t too pretty.
I’ve somehow managed to get my chance with Time Out Sao Paulo. They want me to write previews of upcoming underground gigs in Sao Paulo for the next few months. I have til Monday to find one for March. Where are all the bleeding interesting concerts when you want them! [As a side note, I just saw that LCD Soundsystem are playing here soon. A ticket for that will set you back R$280, that’s around £130/140, which seems a little steep. I then found out that the Paul McCartney gig last year cost between R$400 for the cheap seats and R$5,000 for the most expensive. I’m not even gonna go into the maths of that one, but it is clear to see why Macca is still topping that Rich List!]
And one last note. Today I spent most of the day with Alfredo Bello, a producer/bassist who performs as DJ Tudo. The guy has over 18,000 records and we had a go at listening to most of them. I now know what Emboladas and Cocas are all about, as well as what music from Suriname and Cape Verde sounds like, not to mention the sheer frill of Brazilian Hard Grooves! Very nice. You can check out a little of this guy’s style right here:
Tropicália is a style of music from Brazil, beginning in the late 60s, when a bunch of art students, writers and local musicians, inspired by the work of modern artists such as Helio Oiticica and progressive theatre (especially Oswald de Andrade‘s O Rei da Vela), decided the time was right for a new musical framework. It was a manifesto written by Oswald de Andrade that would have the biggest effect. Manifesto Antropófago (Cannibal Manifesto), published in 1928, states that Brazil is at its best when it is cannibalising other cultures, taking in their music, art and literature and producing something that is, well, better.
This young group, comprising musicians Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil, Tom Zé, Rogerio Duprat, Os Mutantes (Arnaldo Baptista, Sergio Dias and Rita Lee) and writers Torquato Neto and Capinan, took the manifesto at its word. They mixed popular Brazilian rhythms such as samba and bossa nova (which was an incredibly liberal form at the time) and Northeastern Brazilian rhythms, which is where many of the group were from, with Western pop and rock ‘n’ roll (The Beatles’ Sgt. Peppers‘ was a big influence), concrete poetry and a sense that anything was possible.
This was typified by Os Mutantes, who through their ingenious home-made amps and effects had created a sound that was unlike anything else. Early performances of the music were at talent contest and pop music competitions (very popular in Brazil) where Veloso and Gil would perform, backed by Os Mutantes and other musicians, such as Pepeu Gomes who would later become a key member of Os Novos Baianos.
The movement really became tangible with the release of Tropicalia: Ou Panis et Circencis in 1968, featuring the entire collective. It was a dynamic mixture of great front-men and women, songwriting that played with form and references in a way Brazil had never encountered before, a collective style and philosophy that made it easy for Brazilian youth to make a connection, and music that really followed no rules. In Veloso and Gil there were two musicians with great love for Brazil’s traditional music forms (who were also prepared to play with those forms), the enthusiasm of Os Mutantes and Tom Zé, always capable of mixing the avant garde with pop in song form, but most important of all was the contribution of Rogerio Duprat.
Duprat was a classically trained composer, well-versed in Europe’s avant garde tendencies. His arrangements add a gravitas and identity to the style of music. All of the classic tropicalia albums carry his trademark. As well as Tropicalia: Ou Panis Et Circencis, he wrote arrangements for Caetano Veloso’s first self-titled album in 1968 (informally known as Tropicalia), Gilberto Gil’s first two self-titled albums (known as Frevo Rasgado (1968) and Cérebro Eletrônico (1969)), the first three Os Mutantes albums (Os Mutantes in 1968, Mutantes in 1969 and Divina Comedia Ou Ando Meio Desligado in 1970) and Gal Costa‘s unbelievably good two albums from 1969; Cinema Olympia and Não Identificado – they are by far the most experimental of the lot.
Later Os Mutantes albums, as well as a good Rita Lee solo album Build Up, carried on the style. Jorge Ben even had a very Tropicalia-twinged effort with his eponymously-titled 1969 effort. However, the movement was largely over. Both Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil were asked to leave the country in 1969 by the Brazilian government. They both then spent a number of years in London where they became more aware of folk, rock and reggae music. By the early 70s many of the early collective had dispersed into solo projects, theatre productions and all manner of activities. This, along with the retiring Rogerio Duprat meant that Tropicalia had lost its sound, becoming what is today modern Brazilian pop music, or MPB as it is known in Brazil.
And I think I should leave it there. I only wanted to write an introduction for this video clip, the first part of the BBC’s excellent documentary on Brazilian music; Brasil, Brasil: Tropicalia Revolution. You should be able to find all seven parts in total if you go looking for them on Youtube.
See this post for more information on the tropicalia movement.
Sounds and Colours, as mentioned in a previous post, is a website I have been working on for the last couple of months. It seems like now is the time to get the word out on this thing! The site features interviews, mixtapes, news and reviews of all aspects of South American music and culture. At the moment the focus is Brazil, with a strong bias towards everything musical. In August we will be looking at Argentina.
The basic idea is to create a site about South America in a way that’s not been done for. The majority of sites that are about South American music in particular tend to categorise it as ‘world music’ or ‘latin american music’. These tags are just too broad to ever really embrace all the amazing styles of music from this region. The same also applies to culture with Brazil largely described as ‘carnival’ country, Argentina as the home of ‘tango’ and Peru as the place to visit ‘macchu picchu.’ There is just so much more going on and we are hoping to get the word out as much as possible! Keep on eye on this blog as well obviously as the Sounds and Colours site for the latest on this new project.
Well it seems there is nowhere Beatlemania didn’t reach. After speaking to many people here I kept hearing that music started in Uruguay with The Shakers, so I thought it was about time I checked them out. The first clip that I came across on youtube was:
I don’t think it’s possible to get any more Beatles than that! Two of the guys from that band went on to pretty much shape the entirety of Uruguayan music after, with Hugo Fattoruso in particular generally regarded as something of a master, but most of The Shakers material was a complete rip-off of the Beatles. Their albums even mirrored the trajectory of the Beatles. First album ‘The Shakers’ seems to be all the jingly-jangly pop songs, second album ‘The Shakers For You’ tried to be more well-crafted, supposedly similar to Revolver/Rubber Soul, and the last one ‘The Secret Conference of Toto’s Bar’ was their Sgt. Pepper’s. I managed to find a copy of this last one on the ‘net and am currently downloading. I’m especially looking forward to hearing the last song, ‘Longer than the Plum.’
During my first trip to Uruguay last May I briefly stayed with a bald-headed Vespa freak in Tacuarembó in the North of the country. Mainly I had chosen to couchsurf with this fellow as I fancied making a trip to his town and noticed that the guy was a keen guitarrist. In the end I got on far better with his dog, Telstar, than him but this trip was memorable for one major thing. I asked him for some Uruguayan music and he spent about an hour deciding on three albums by three different artists that I should put on my mp3 player. The first, Hugo Fattoruso, was okay, nothing special. The second was Eduardo Mateo, and I still haven’t managed to get to the third. It took me about two months before I managed to get past the first song on the Mateo album to be the fair. That song was Yulele:
The album I had been given was Mateo’s Classics Vol.1, which is a collection of songs off his first two albums. Along with Os Novos Baianos’ Acabou Chorare this is probably the album I’ve listened to the most during my trip. The fact that I knew nothing about the album and its creator making the experience even better perhaps. It’s quite clear that there is a lot going on with Mateo. His voice is constantly taking on different personalities and the lyrics, well the lyrics are pretty sad. But it’s the rhythms and the unusual melodies that really make these songs great, with some of his vocal harmonies in particular literally bringing me to my knees.
I have been trying to find out more about him but it’s a nightmare. I have been to every bookstore in Montevideo and there is nothing. I eventually managed to find a book that someone had scanned into their computer online. It’s quite interesting but all the blurring and crookedness from a bad scan job make it hard to read for any more than 5 minutes. Other than that all material on the web is in Spanish and not of much interest. There is also a massive lack of live videos on Youtube, hence the videos I am posting here.
Of which, this is another, this time featuring songs from his second album. I just read that only 443 copies of this album were ever pressed. Apparently the public were a little dismayed by the changes he’d made in his voice. After singing quite clearly on his previous albums, he’d decided to try droning his voice more, using even stranger harmonies and many people assumed this was because he had become mentally ill.
And to finish with a quote which I probably have badly-translated from Spanish:
“I am not fully realised as a guitarrist because I am not fully realised as a human being, and further I am not happy. So the music I play signifies my problems. There are spaces when I am playing when I am not me.”
Every Sunday La Melaza head out onto the streets near Parque Rodo in Montevideo to bang their drums. They’re not alone, there’s a number of different groups which march through their neighbourhood on a Sunday, as well as some groups which do it every night! La Melaza is a bit different though. I managed to get an okay recording of them playing on Sunday. You really should listen to it:
Okay, so my little camera/voice recorder couldn’t really handle the bass, but the main thing about this recording is just the different rhythms and the way they are using the drums. The Candombe dates back to when the slaves were brought over to Uruguay in the 18th century, and most of the candombe groups stick to the traditions as much as possible. There are three different rhythms they use.
La Melaza exist outside of this, despite the fact that they have an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of its traditions. I think the reason they have had to do this though is because they are all female. They started as a project borne from the idea of doing special for International Women’s Day and have grown as a force since then. Being an all-female group has meant that they have had to replace the normal thumping bass that ripples through candombe with different counter-rhythms, and I believe this has now set their style completely apart from all the other candombe groups out there.
I will be meeting some of them this week to do an interview so will probably be writing some more about them in the very near future. In the meantime, I also managed to get a short video clip, although the quickly-disappearing sun and my camera’s affliction to nighttime bashfulness, have not made it the cinematic glory it hoped to be. Despite this, it gives an idea of La Melaza, and also the chance to listen to some more of their mighty fine beats.
NB: Following this encounter I interviewed three members of La Melaza towards an article for UruguayNow. The article can be viewed here.
On The Road to Find Out is a blog all about South America which I started in March 2009 upon landing in Rio de Janeiro, and which includes stories from my travels in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru and Uruguay.
As well as these travel stories, you will hopefully also get to understand my obsessions with food, football and music, all of which go hand-in-hand with travelling around South America, on a journey which has no end in sight yet.
