Antonio Carlos Jobim//Desafinado

I was lucky enough to be raised by a guy who had a solid appreciation for a bossa nova. This is why we listened to a lot of Antonio Carlos Jobim, the veritable godfather of the genre, in our house.

Bossa nova is a beautiful melding of samba, folk and imported American jazz. Middle and upper class students and musicians in Rio mixed samba, which sprung from Brazil's impoverished favellas, with cool jazz in the context of a worldwide late 50s/early 60s folk movement. Even if you're unfamiliar with the sound, you've probably heard the classic bossa nova hit, sung by Astrud Gilberto and penned (again) by Jobim, "The Girl From Ipanema."

It's so hard to choose just one Jobim-penned song, as so many of them are phenomenally good. This wasn't one of my favorites as a kid, but at some point in my early 20s, it became one. There are a few different versions. One instrumental features Brazilian jazz legend and frequent Jobim collaborator, Stan Getz. This one is sung by Ella Fitzgerald.



Desafinado.mp3

They'll be no desafinado
When your heart belongs to me completely
And we won't be slightly out of tune,
You'll sing along with me.

Caetano Veloso & Gilberto Gil//Cada Macaco no Seu Galho

I just figured, since you were already dancing, I'd let you keep dancing.

Caetano Veloso, singer, songwriter and political activist, is amazing across the board. He's from the state of Bahia (mentioned in this song), which is the heartland of awesome Brazilian music and rhythm (and a place I would really like to visit someday). He moved to Rio in the late 60s, in hopes of breaking into the Bossa Nova scene. Instead, he helped find The Tropicalismo Movement (Tropicalia). Thanks, guy. That was a way more awesome thing for you to do.

In 1968, Veloso was arrested for "disrespect(ing) the national anthem and the Brazilian flag." In 1969, Veloso (and Gilberto Gil, who is also featured on this song) went into exile after threats by Brazil's then-totalitarian government about what would happen if they played music in the country. They moved to London and did not return to Brazil until 1973, when the political situation had eased.

I think the dedication shown by this man to his art is really outstanding. When someone told him he was not able to compose and perform (political) music, he left the country instead of backing down. Admirable and courageous. It's so interesting to contrast the craft and politics of Bob Dylans and the Caetanos with the sleazy fame-seeking drama of American Idol Winners; perfect representations in the never-ending battle of art vs. entertainment.

According to babelfish, the title of this song translates to "Each Monkey in Its Twig." I'm thinking this is wrong and that it probably translates to "Each Monkey in Its Branch" or "Tree." I used to have many full translations of Tropicalia songs and I really wish I still had them, because the lyrics of these tracks are as sharp and clever as the music is original and engaging.



Cada Macaco no Seu Galho.mp3

Each monkey in its own twig?

Bebel Gilberto//The Real Thing

Smoooooth Monday Mail. What is Monday Mail?

It’s very hard for me to resist a collaboration between the daughter of João Gilberto (Astrud was his wife) and Winehouse-producer Mark Ronson (SamRo is his sis).

Myles from Sneak Attack says:

Originally performed by Sergio Mendes and written by Steve Wonder, Bebel Gilberto and Mark Ronson put their spin on "The Real Thing". The original version is an undeniable disco track, but one would never know from this reinterpretation. Bebel's sultry voice and Mark Ronson's killer horns and percussion reintroduce this classic to a new generation of music fans. "The Real Thing" appears on Bebel Gilberto's new album All In One, out now.

The production on this is, predictably, lush, fabulous and lounge-y. So sit back, relax and try to let go of your anger at having to return to work post-four day weekend.



The Real Thing.mp3

Had a chance to look forward
To be part of your love in my dreams,
But I can't be happy with
Fantasizing instead of the real thing.
The real thing, not my dreams--
The real thing.

Gilberto Gil//Domingo No Parque

I had a little party on Saturday night and Bat Macumba by Os Mutantes made it onto the dancey playlist. My, how I love Tropicalia. This reminded me of the long discussions we had in my South American Politics and Culture (undoubtedly one of my favorites) on the clever wordplay in the lyrics of many songs that came out of this movement. BAT MAN!

Speaking of that class, this was one of the professor’s favorite songs of all times. In fact, one day, he eagerly proclaimed that Domingo No Parque was “the best pop song ever written.” Kinda going out on a limb there, buddy—considering the basis of the track is berimbau. Still, turns out, the guy’s kinda right. Shortly after I was introduced, I put the song on a car-bound mixtape and annoyed my friends for hours, insisting on playing it over and over again, especially on one particular trip to Chicago.

If I’m remembering correctly, the plot line revolves around an urban Capoeira-match-turned-knife-fight between José and João, the game going bad in the park over a girl (of course), Juliana. The Tropicalists, famous for their sense of post-modernism, pastiche and playfulness, live up to their ideals by inserting an upbeat carnival montage at the end. Sure, things can get bloody right outside the merry-go-round—this is Brazil in the late 60s after all.



Domingo No Parque.mp3

Oh, José!
Oh, João!

Jorge Ben//Take It Easy, My Brother Charles

Sometimes you just need to calm the fuck down. I know I do.

Unfortunately, I think occasionally having an irrational freak-out is part of the human condition (unless you’re Meursault from The Stranger—nothing riles that guy’s feathers…but it might be because he’s a fictional Camus character meant to embody existential crisis…LOOPHOLE!).

Good thing for us, we have Jorge Ben , reminding us in Brazilian Portuguese with big, big swing to keep it cool. After all, being hotheaded doesn’t really get you anywhere, my brother Charlie. I wonder if Ben sang this song to himself throughout his plagiarism lawsuit with Rod Steward regarding, of all songs, “Do You Think I’m Sexy?”.



Take It Easy, My Brother Charles.mp3

Charlie, take it easy, my boy.
Take it easy, my friend.

MONDAY…
Take it easy, my friend.

Arto Lindsay//Prefeelings

Arto Lindsay is a highly influential figure in a number of important music scenes. Lindsay was born in the land of Bossa Nova and Samba, came of age during Tropicalia, found his footing in Punk and went on to become a king of No Wave, with his progressive band, DNA.

Fast forward to his beautiful and strange solo career and you get tracks like this one, highly experimental while also weirdly accessible. Arto Lindsay is a hero to us all. Or at least to me.



Prefeelings.mp3

Glitch out to this, Thursday.

The promises lovers make when it's too late.

Gal Costa//Sebastiana

Tropicalia refers to Tropicalismo, a widely diverse cultural movement that sprang from urban 1960s Brazil. The best thing about the sound is the combination of old and new. A tenant of Tropicalia is cultural cannibalism, which is defined as the consumption of all possible cultural products and then repurposing those products into art that makes sense in a specific cultural context. 

I first became interested in Tropicalia through a class I took about South American culture and political movements. Our instructor was very interested in the music of Tropicalia, and turned us on to all sorts of amazing musicians, including Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil and Os Mutantes. I became instantly fascinated. In combination with scouring the internet for whatever I could find, I was also on the hunt for new or old records and cd re-issues of my favorites from this genre. This is how I happened upon one of many excellent Soul Jazz comps, Tropicalia—a Brazillian Revolution in Sound, which features one of my favorite tracks by my absolute favorite Tropicalia artist, Gal Costa.

Sebastiana.mp3

Consume everything!