Sweet creaming Jesu! I’ve put off buying this for years. Partly on account of usually being broke, admittedly. But also partly because I’ve sometimes bought Brazilian music and been a little bit disappointed with it. I was a little worried this might be one of those instances.
I could’ve listened to this stuff online. And indeed, I did occasionally listen to snippets, but I never really gave it my full attention. Well, despite the perennial lack of Luca, I ordered it. Along with Gal Costa is India, album, of similar vintage the latter being released in 1973).
I’ve just listened to the first full play through, in my car, driving to work. It’s a grey and rainy day in The Fens. And boy, oh boy, did this bring some much-needed Brazilian sunshine into the interior of my car, and the innards of my spirit/s oul!
It’s a delightfully, heady and eclectic mix of all the stuff I love. Brazilian samba, with jazy harmonies and melodies, sometimes vocal, sometimes instrumental (beautiful vocal harmonies), but with horns, and strings, and even synths… and this is 1972! It’s MPB, it’s folk, funk, rock, pop, and easy-listening, it’s progressive! It’s just bloody brilliant, is what it is (he says, getting unabashedly Clarkson, in his enthusiasm).
I’m just disappointed in myself, for my lack of faith. I should’ve bought this years ago. I’ve known about it for eons. And it’s always appealed. He just looks such a funky dude. And the cover is brilliant. What a beautiful shot of a beautiful building, and a beautiful man. Nice tight face. The whole vibe is just totally up my Boulevard.
To have the music hit the spot so sweetly. Such a heart piercing bull’s-eye, it’s just gravy. Can’t say how happy it makes me.
It’s kind of funny, when synchronicity strikes. I just watch the Beastie Boys story, on Apple TV. That was superb. In it, add rock relates how MCA, when accused of hypocrisy by an interviewer, replied, ‘I’d rather be a hypocrite than somebody who never changes.’ Touché!
I’m not the same person, I was 10 or 20 years ago, at the height of my all devouring passion for music, be like jazz, funk soul, Latin Brazilian, pop, easy, listening metal, whatever. Back, then I was a drinker and smoker (of weed). I’m trying to be sober these days and the ravages of time, and Miss spent time at that (perhaps?) have left their marks.
But, interestingly, I also came across something recently that talks about scars, and scar-tissue. I’ll have to dig that quote out as I’ve completely forgotten what it was or where I heard it. But I believe whoever it was – poss’ Tom Waits? – was talking about how scars are the visual markers, if you like (or perhaps even the Momentos?) of traumas we have been through. And, very crucially, survived. Perhaps these moments, and the scars they leave, are things we shouldn’t shun, but, strange as it may sound, embrace?
Anyway, I’m starting to digress massively into psychology, or whatever the hell it is. Let’s come back to the music…
This was Verocai’s only album as an artist in his own right. And it sank without trace! Read more about Arthur here.