I’m in San Diego at the moment for the Pacific APA. Naturally, California rhymes with sea and sun, and in the absence of a California-themed Brazilian song worth posting (of course, there’s this silly one by Lulu Santos), I had to think of the classic ‘Wave’, composed by Tom Jobim and perhaps best known in the João Gilberto version. But I’m also posting it in the original instrumental version, by Jobim himself, and a live version with Jobim and Herbie Hancock. In other words, plenty of choice for picky ears...
BMoF's guest of this week is Luciana Souza, a Brazilian singer who is surprisingly little known in Brazil, having been based in the US for many years now. (Indeed, I discovered her recently thanks to the recommendation of a BMoF reader.) And yet, she has been receiving wide recognition for her work, including a number of Grammy nominations. One of the remarkable features of her career is that she continues to record classics from Brazilian music, while also making quite a splash in the more ‘traditional’ jazz scene. I’m quite impressed with how versatile Luciana is proving to be, being such an accomplished interpreter both of American standards and Brazilian classics.
Indeed, last year she released TWO albums (check here for a promotional video of both): one is the third installment of her Duos series, all of which containing nothing but Brazilian songs; the other is called The Book of Chet, and includes classics of the ‘Chet Baker sings’ repertoire. (Having spent a considerable portion of my youth listening to these Chet Baker recordings, I was particularly pleased to discover the Chet album…) Both albums received Grammy nominations, in different categories (Latin jazz and jazz vocal, respectively).
From Duos III, I’m posting ‘Doralice’, made famous through the João Gilberto classic version, and 'Lamento Sertanejo' (the very same song of last week's BMoF) in a medley with Djavan's beautiful 'Maçã do rosto'; from The Book of Chet I’m posting ‘The thrill is gone’ (my favorite from the album is ‘I get along without you very well’, but sadly I couldn’t find it on youtube). This should be more than enough to convince everyone of Luciana's exceptional talent.
The episode of this week in the web-series Dominguinhos+ has an unbelievably beautiful version of ‘Lamento Sertanejo’, one of Dominguinhos’ classics (also famous in the Gilberto Gil version). It is an amazing collaboration between singer Mayra Andrade, mandolinist Hamilton de Holanda, and guitarist Yamandu Costa, two of the most talented musicians currently in activity in Brazil. Dominguinhos’ accordion itself is not heard here, but the virtuosity of the two musicians combined with Mayra Andrade’s limpid voice is an absolute killer.
Still on time for a BMoF today, and here is a recently released video clip/short film by rapper Criolo (that I'm a bit of a fan is no secret to anyone) of two tracks, 'Duas de Cinco' and 'Cóccix-ência'. Hope ya'll in the mood for rap on Fridays today!
This week we had the pleasure of welcoming Jerrold Levinson for a workshop in Groningen. I had never met Jerry in person before, but I had anticipated great conversations on music, given his influential work on the aesthetics of music. Well, as it turns out, it was even better than expected (and would have been better only if we had had more time to talk). It involved in particular some brief duets at restaurants in a variety of languages (English, Portuguese, French, even a bit of Spanish).
One of these songs was the bossa nova classic ‘Desafinado’: me in Portuguese, Jerry in English. And so the choice of what to post here at BMoF this week was pretty obvious: here is ‘Desafinado’, in the classic version from the Getz/Gilberto album, and the English version, ‘Slightly out of tune’ with the incomparable Ella Fitzgerald (live at a TV show). Incidentally, I find that the English lyrics, and Ella’s interpretation, give the song an ‘upbeat-ness’ that is extraneous to it, as it is basically a melancholic song about somebody who is accused of singing out of tune by his lover (and this causes him ‘immense pain’). Still, perhaps the way to think about it is of ‘Slightly out of tune’ as almost like a different song altogether, and a great one at that.
(And here is to hoping for more such duets involving Jerry and me in the future.)
Dominguinhos was one of the greatest Brazilian accordionists of all times, and musical heir of Luiz Gonzaga – second only to Gonzaga in the pantheon of Brazilian northeastern music. Sadly, he passed away last year in July. In the year before his death, a documentary on his life and oeuvre was filmed and is now completed. The documentary itself will be released in May (though it will be competing in a number of film festivals the coming months), but as a prelude to the documentary a webseries of 8 short episodes is being posted online, a new episode every Wednesday. Each episode focuses on musical encounters of Dominguinhos with other musicians: the first episode is with Gilberto Gil, second with João Donato, and third with Djavan, among other illustrious guests. I’ve been enjoying each of them tremendously, and look forward to the remaining 5 – and of course, to the documentary!
I’m posting here ‘Abri a porta’, with Gilberto Gil; ‘Minha saudade’, with legendary jazz pianist João Donato; 'Retrato da vida' with Djavan and Mayra Andrade . In all tracks, the magical accordion of Dominguinhos shines. (You can follow the next episodes on Facebook or the Youtube channel.) Brazilian music lovers are unbelievably lucky that all this wonderful material was recorded just before Dominguinhos' death, as this means there is more of him still around for us to enjoy.
As many readers will have seen, the great Paco de Lucia passed away last week. So to honor him, here is the (to my knowledge) only song recorded by him with a Brazilian musician, namely Djavan. The song is ‘Oceano’ of 1989, and to be honest it is not among my favorite Djavan songs (it doesn’t help that it was the main theme of the ‘love story’ between the protagonists of a soap-opera, so we all got over-exposed to it back in the day). But there is a beautiful solo by Paco de Lucia between 2.30 and 3.00 mins., which already makes it all worth it. I’m also posting one of the many breath-taking duos of Paco de Lucia with the equally great (and also prematurely deceased) Camarón de la Isla, simply because one can never get enough of these two; here, 'Tu cariño es mi castigo'.
Carnival has already started in Brazil. The internationally most famous carnival celebration is the parade of samba schools in Rio, but two equally strong carnival traditions thrive in Salvador (Bahia) and Recife/Olinda (Pernambuco) – democratic, street carnival in both cases. What the samba school is for carnival in Rio (and a few other places, like São Paulo), the ‘bloco’ is for street carnival. Blocos are (more or less) organized groups with their own music band and participants who dance along. In Bahia, the most famous bloco is probably Ilê Aiyê, created in 1974 as an affirmation of black pride and a celebration of the Afro cultural heritage in Bahia and in Brazil more generally. When it first came into existence, it was viewed as ‘racist’ given its emphasis on the value of African-Brazilian culture, and to this day only blacks are allowed to parade with the group. Ilê Aiyê remains one of the symbols of the strength of the Afro-Brazilian culture – here is a song by Caetano Veloso celebrating their existence.
In their first carnival, in 1975, Ilê Aiyê paraded with a song that remains emblematic for the black pride movement in Brazil: ‘Que bloco é esse - Ilê Aiyê’. And so to join the carnival spirit this week I’ll be posting numerous versions of this song. It’s really a great song, and here is a bit of the lyrics translated (as usual, very hard to come up with a decent translation):
Ok, so today is my birthday (yes, somehow every year it coincides with Valentine's day), and most of it will be spent packing and then in the car, driving to the mountains. So not exactly the best birthday ever, but with a nice reward to come after: a week of vacation. (So no BMoF next week.)
Anyway, to congratulate myself I'm posting the Brazilian version of 'Happy birthday', 'Parabéns pra você', quite possibly the most often sung song in the whole history of Brazilian music (damn, not an original Brazilian song!). So here it is, sung by soulman Ed Motta, who already made an appearance here at BMoF a while back.
And yes, I'm happy to accept congratulations in comments.
Yesterday (February 6th) would have been Bob Marley’s 69th birthday. As it so happens, I spent a huge portion of my adolescence and early adulthood listening to Bob Marley. In fact, it is difficult to express how much his music has always been and still is an integral part of my life. Reggae in general, and Bob Marley in particular, is extremely popular in Brazil, and I’ve posted before some samples of Brazilian reggae (here, here, and here). But today, to celebrate Bob’s birthday, it is time to post a few songs from the 2002 tribute album to him by Gilberto Gil, Kaya N’Gan Daya (which phonetically reads as ‘Caia na gandaia’, something like ‘Go party’, and is of course a reference to Bob Marley's song 'Kaya'). Gil is a long-time Marley fan; his version of ‘No woman no cry’, ‘Não chore mais’ is a classic from his Realce album (1979), and received a new version in the 2002 album (I like the older version better).
It is hard for me to choose which songs from Kaya N’Gan Daya to post, simply because I’m such a huge fan of pretty much every existing Bob Marley song (and possibly the non-existing ones as well), but I’ll go with ‘Waiting in vain’ and ‘Positive vibrations’. Fellow Bob Marley fans, feel free to post your favorites in comments below!
There have been quite a few musically relevant events this week. Most important of all, Pete Seeger left this world. But on a more down-to-earth dimension, the Grammy earlier this week had a few memorable moments, including the Daft Punk-Stevie Wonder performance of ‘Get lucky’. At the same Grammy, but receiving much less publicity, a Brazilian trio, Trio Corrente, won the Latin Jazz Grammy award for their album Song for Maura, a collaboration with iconic Cuban saxophone player Paquito D’Rivera. So here is the beautiful eponymous song from the album. (It’s not like I had heard about Trio Corrente before, so thanks Grammy for calling my attention to this beautiful gem.)
Rolling Stone Brasil announced their ‘Best of 2013’ lists. Topping the list of best Brazilian songs of the year, a curious item: ‘Problema seu’, by Felipe Cordeiro, a singer from the northern state of Pará. In Pará, the genre ‘brega’ (initially a pejorative word, something like tacky/distasteful/cheap, originating from a term for 'brothel') is particularly popular, with its over-the-top aesthetics and ultra-mellow lyrics, but in Pará mixed with local sounds and with a splash of Caribbean influences thrown in.
Brega, like funk carioca, was for a long time considered to be ‘cheap music’ and frowned upon by the intellectual and cultural elite, while being widely popular with the masses. The fact that a song with a clear brega inspiration makes it to the top of Rolling Stone Brasil’s list of best songs of the year is remarkable (though in previous years brega diva Gaby Amarantos had also scored well on the RS lists), but for this song in particular, it is not that surprising considering the groovy guitar riffs, a high danceable factor, and catchy lyrics (Você pra mim/é problema seu…). So yes, a rather good song!
Big pile of exams to mark here today, so this will be a short post. I’m going with an unchallenged classic: ‘Fé cega, faca amolada’, from Milton Nascimento’s 1975 album Minas (one of the albums I listened to over and over again as a child), in a duo with Beto Guedes. Besides the awesomeness of the song and of Milton’s voice, I really like the instrumental arrangement: it mixes jazzy undertones with some psychedelic distorted guitars, and the overall result is quite unexpected -- and quite something!
This week, a friend reminded me on FB of this song from Marisa Monte's second album, Mais (1991), which I listened to a lot back in the day. (It has some other great songs, like 'Ainda lembro' and 'Ensaboa'.) The song itself is beautiful (and beautifully sung), but what makes it really cool is the accompanying video-clip and how it matches the lyrics. Here is the text in Portuguese, and you can try your luck with google translate; my favorite line: "Para dias de folga: namorado" (For your days off: a boyfriend). I was watching it with my kids this morning, and they loved it; indeed, the song has a lullaby ring to it, and the animation in the clip is simple and yet clever. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as we did!
I’m still waiting for Rolling Stone Brasil to publish their ‘Best of 2013’ lists, which often give me good ideas of music to post here at BMoF. But for now, let me post a 2013 song by one of the most experimental of all experimental musicians in Brazil, Tom Zé. He is relatively well known outside Brazil in alternative, world music circles, after having become of one of David Byrne’s protégés in the 1990s (he was an iconic figure in the Tropicália movement in the 1960s, but was then by and large ‘forgotten’ for many years). But one of the remarkable things about Tom Zé is that he continues to make music exactly as he sees fit, completely ignoring any ‘market pressure’ and not trying to please anyone with facile tricks.
The song below is ‘Tribunal do Feicebuqui’ (‘Feicebuqui’ being a transliteration of ‘Facebook’), a song that shows not only that Tom Zé keeps up with current social phenomena (recall that he is 78 years old), but also that he looks at these phenomena with astute, critical eyes. I’m also posting ‘Curiosidade’, from his great 1998 concept album ComDefeito de Fabricação. There is much more memorable music by Tom Zé one should listen to, but these two give at least an idea of the work of one of the most creative, independent musicians currently in activity in Brazil.
A few weeks ago I posted ‘Sua estupidez’, sung by Gal Costa but composed by Roberto Carlos and Erasmo Carlos. Roberto Carlos is known in Brazil as ‘The King’, that is the king of folk music, and is immensely popular especially among the less economically favored segments of the population. He is known in particular for his ultra-romantic, ultra-mellow songs – yes, ‘tacky’ would be an appropriate description for lots of it…
But the duo Roberto/Erasmo Carlos has also produced some real gems, such as ‘Sua estupidez’ of a few weeks ago, ‘Debaixo dos caracóis dos seus cabelos’, ‘Fera ferida’, and ‘Cachaça mecânica’, which I am posting below: the first two sung by Caetano Veloso, and the third by Erasmo Carlos. (It turns out that Roberto Carlos’ versions themselves are usually not that good, not because he is not a good singer, but because of tacky arrangements…) The first two are real classics known by everyone; the third one is much less known, but possibly the best among the three: a wonderful, sad samba. So start with the third!
This week’s post is again not entirely Brazilian, technically speaking: today we have Cape Verdian young singer Mayra Andrade, who some of my friends have been raving about for a while (Jeroen and Rafa, that's you!). What justifies her inclusion among the BMoF guests is not only the fact that most of her songs are sung in Cape Verdean Crioulo, a variation of Portuguese; Mayra herself claims to have been highly influenced by Brazilian music. In fact, the first song she recalls singing as a child is the beautiful lullaby ‘Leaozinho’ by Caetano Veloso (equally popular among Brazilian children at large). Mayra often collaborates with Brazilian musicians and records Brazilian songs, and while not yet very widely known in Brazil, she is definitely a rising star worldwide. Her newly released album Lovely Difficult moves away from world music and towards something that can be described as ‘universal pop’, including songs in English (such as the single ‘We used to call it love’), while retaining the freshness and innovation she is known for.
I’m posting here some of Mayra’s versions of Brazilian songs, but music lovers should really also check her ‘non-Brazilian’ music, including her interpretation of Cape Verdean mornas but also her more recent work. So here is her version of 'Berimbau' (classic by Baden Powell and Vinicius de Moraes) with Trio Mocotó, featured in the Red, Hot + Rio 2 album, and a live version of ‘O que será’ (classic by Chico Buarque), a duet with French singer Benjamin Biolay. And I couldn’t resist posting a duet with the marvelous Cesária Évora, ‘Petit Pays’ – Cape Verde, that is (such a beautiful line: ‘Petit pays, je t’aime beaucoup…’) (See here for more of her songs, and a short interview with Mayra (in Portuguese).)
BMoF today could not but honor Nelson Mandela, without a doubt one of the greatest humans in the 20th century and possibly of all times. There is probably no better way to honor him than with music – a man who once said “it is music and dancing that makes me at peace with the world and at peace with myself”. There is much in common between the place that music occupies in people’s lives in South Africa and in Brazil, and this statement by Mandela encapsulates how many Brazilians feel about life, music and dancing (that's certainly the case for this particular Brazilian…).
I found this 1990 video of the pop band Paralamas do Sucesso performing ‘Free Nelson Mandela’, where they reveal their roots as a ska/reggae band. They appeared in the 1980s, and provided much of the soundtrack for my childhood and early teens. They continue to play and record to this day, despite some set-backs (in particular the ultra-light accident of the band leader Herbert Vianna in the early 2000s, which killed his wife and left him paraplegic).
So let’s all get up and sing for (and with) Mandela, and thank him for all he’s done to make this world a better place. (The music itself starts at 1.10.)
This week I had to deal with a fair amount of emotional stupidity from people who are very dear to me. So I was inevitably reminded of this song, ‘Sua estupidez’, composed by Roberto Carlos and Erasmo Carlos but at its best in this Gal Costa version (1969), which I listened to a lot around the time that my father died, in 1998 (he was also an example of emotional stupidity of this kind). The key part of the lyrics: “Your stupidity does not let you see that I love you”. Enough said.
UPDATE: This post seems to have gotten some people worried, apologies for that. It's nothing serious, just an argument with someone I'm very close to.
Here is one more for the ‘new sounds’ category (we’ve been surprisingly modern as of lately here at BMoF). Anelis Assumpção is a young singer who mashes Brazilian and Jamaican rhythms (dub, reggae etc.) in her music. She also happens to be the daughter of Itamar Assumpção, one of the main exponents of the alternative music scene of São Paulo in the 1980s and 1990s, known as Vanguarda Paulista (he died prematurely 10 years ago). But Anelis is her own woman, and has been making some great music for some years already.
I discovered her music through a school friend I reconnected with thanks to almighty Facebook, Giba Nascimento. Giba is himself a musician, and composed and recorded the reggae ‘Not falling’ with Anelis -- he’s the guy on the bike in the brand-new (and pretty awesome!) video-clip below. (It’s not so surprising that so many of my friends from school ended up becoming musicians/artists, as until the age of 14, I went to a typical artsy/lefty school.) I’m also posting ‘Sonhando’ (a collaboration with another young singer, Karina Buhr), from her 2011 album Sou suspeita estou sujeita nao sou santa. Both great tracks but very different from each other, which reveals Anelis’ versatility. Good stuff!
Here is a brand new band, which my kool friends in Sao Paulo are all raving about, but which is still little known outside these circles: 5 a Seco. (They are so new that they don't even have a wikipedia page!). I'm still getting to know them, so I can't tell you much more than this, but when they become the new hot thing in Brazilian music worldwide, you can say that you heard about them first here at BMoF. So here is 'Feliz pra cachorro'.
My friend Fabio Goes posted a very nice link over at FB earlier this week: 10 fairly established artists/musicians (including Goes himself) were asked to talk about the newcomers in the musical scene they are particularly fond of. The result is a priceless collection of the very latest good music being made in Brazil. To give you a taste of it, I’m posting a song by newcomer Rodrigo Campos sung by rap star Criolo, and a duet of Goes himself with his ‘nominee’, Jennifer Souza. But in truth, the whole selection is very much worth listening to.
I haven't posted anything by Jorge Ben(jor) for a while, so here is the easy-going, mellow samba 'Ive Brussel', from his 1979 album Salve Simpatia. It is a duo with Caetano Veloso, which makes it even more enjoyable. So let the weekend come!
Short BMoF today, but with a real gem, and
again (after the Venezuelan Los Amigos last week) something coming from one of
our dear neighbors. ‘Volver a los diecisiete’ is one of the classics composed
by the Chilean iconic singer Violeta Parra, and here it is sung by a stellar
group of people: the great Argentinian singer Mercedes Sosa, Chico Buarque,
Caetano Veloso, Milton Nascimento and Gal Costa. (This extraordinary confluence took place at a music TV show that Caetano and Chico used to host back
in the 1980s – those were the days…) It's a South-American classic, which I listened to countless times in my childhood (it was especially popular among academic lefties like my parents), and which remains timelessly beautiful.
It’s been a while since I last posted
something that is 'technically speaking' not Brazilian (in the past, I posted on
Cuban piano player Roberto Fonseca, Cape-Verdean diva Cesária Évora and
Argentinian hero Spinetta), so today I’ll be posting a couple of songs by the
awesome Venezuelan band Los Amigos Invisibles. I first got to know their
music back in 1999, when I stayed at an apartment full of Venezuelans for a
week in Florence (long story…). All they played, day and night, was Los Amigos’
second album The New Sound of the
Venezuelan Gozadera (1998), and I immediately fell in love with the music:
it’s disco, Latin, fun, groovy, funky, all in one! What more can you ask for?
Since then, I continued to follow their
career, and in 2006 attended one of their concerts at the SoB venue in NYC (Los
Amigos relocated to NYC after the success of their 2003 album, The Venezuelan Zinga Son). They keep
producing great music; their latest album was released earlier this year, and
coming to think of it, why don’t they come play here in the Netherlands?
I’m posting here my favorite song from The New Sound…, ‘Ponerte en cuatro’
(yep…), my favorite song from the album following it (Arepa 3000), ‘La vecina’, and to justify their appearance here at BMoF, one
of their songs with Brazilian undertones, ‘Es la verdad’, from their 2009 album
Commercial. So now you really have no
excuse not to get up and dance: it’s Friday, and you've just discovered one of the
most danceable bands of all times.
I’ve mentioned a fewtimes that Djavan was
for years my very favorite singer, and I’m still a huge fan of much of his
oeuvre (but admittedly not very familiar with the more recent stuff). In this
context, I was very happy to hear about an album that came out earlier this year: Samba Dobrado, where singer Rosa Passos
sings nothing but Djavan songs (some of the classics as well as lesser known
gems). Rosa Passos has a limpid, precise singing style, which reminds me of the
great João Gilberto (she openly acknowledges him as one of her greatest
influences). She has built a solid career over the last decades, but is not
very well known among the ‘masses’, so to speak. Her Djavan album, however, has
attracted a considerable amount of attention, so it looks like she is finally
getting the recognition she deserves.
I haven’t been able to listen to the whole
album yet, and only found two of the songs on youtube (there are quite a few live videos, but with poor sound quality): ‘Linha do equador’ (here
in the original Djavan version of 1992) and ‘Samba dobrado’, which lends the
name to the album (here in the original Djavan version of 1978). But if all
goes well I should receive my copy of the CD at the end of this month, when a
dear friend who is in Brazil now returns to the Netherlands. Can’t wait!
And in the meantime, I treat BMoF readers to some beautiful music.
(Short BMoF ahead.) I’m a reasonably big
fan of the guitar-voice duo Tuck and Patti, but to my knowledge there is only
one Brazilian song recorded by them: ‘O Cantador’ by Dori Caymmi (son of the great Dorival Caymmi). The song has been covered by a number of
other people, including Ella Fitzgerald and Sergio Mendes (but then again,
which song has he not covered?), and in English it is referred to as ‘Like a
lover’. So here is the original version with Dori Caymmi, from his 1972 album,
and then the Tuck and Patti version, from their 1989 album Love Warriors. (The video is really weird though, it looks like some
creepy tribute to Michael Jackson, but it’s the only one with the Tuck and
Patti version that I could find on youtube.)
Last weekend my husband and I welcomed the visit of very
dear friends: a couple who, like us, is Dutch-Brazilian. They are both musicians (she is a singer, and he is a trumpet
player), so we always end up spending a considerable amount of time talking
about and listening to music. Interestingly, she (the Dutch half of the couple)
had never heard of the best Brazilian band of all times, Os Mutantes, while he
(the Brazilian half) had never heard of the best Dutch band of all times, Doe
Maar. So it was my pleasure and honor to rectify this strange situation, and we spent
quite some time listening both to Os Mutantes and Doe Maar. This gave me the
idea for this special edition of BMoF: THE BATTLE OF BANDS!
I’m posting below two songs by each of the two bands, and
people can vote in comments if they want. Os Mutantes have already made a
number of appearances here at BMoF, as befits the best Brazilian band of all
times. They were active in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and their music is
of the best experimental, psychedelic vintage around. Doe Maar was active in the early 1980s, and their music is both a reflection of the
Zeitgeist of the time (punk, post-punk, ska, verging towards new wave) and
perennially awesome. For Os Mutantes, I
give you ‘Top top’ and ‘Technicolor’ (in English), both from Jardim Eletrico (1971); for Doe Maar, I give you
‘Tijd genoeg’ (1982) and ‘Bella Donna’ (instrumental, 1980). (You can see it as a musical version
of the football epic matches between Brazil and the Netherlands in numerous
World Cups – last time, to the latter’s advantage…)
I wasn’t quite sure what to post today (a
good friend suggested an album by Francis Hime and Guinga, according to him a real
gem, but I haven’t had the chance to check it out yet – maybe for next week!). Then,
Sublime FM, the radio station I listen to in the car, came to the rescue. They
play the occasional Brazilian song, and one that they seem to like quite a bit
is ‘Quero ver você no baile’ by singer Paula Lima, below the fold in a live version. I first came across her in
the late 1990s, as one of the singers of Funk como le gusta (a band I posted
about before), and now she has been enjoying a fruitful solo career for quite a few
years. So here you see what happens when samba meets funk -- good stuff! (And I don’t mean
funk Carioca, about which I still have mixed feelings...)
By the time this goes on line on Friday, I’ll be in
Salzburg for the SOPhiA conference, so I'm writing on Tuesday evening. For a variety of reasons (including the terrible weather, and we are officially still in summer!), today I could use
a bit of optimism in life, so I figured I could post a song that has been on my
mind for BMoF for a while: ‘O que é, o que é?’ (1982) by Gonzaguinha. The diminutive,
‘little Gonzaga’, refers to the fact that Gonzaguinha was the son of the great
Luiz Gonzaga, the king of baião. But Gonzaguinha did not follow his father’s
footsteps of forró and baião; instead, he developed his own style, mixing and
matching different strands of folk Brazilian music. ‘O que é, o que é?’, for example, is an
amazing samba, and one of those songs that everyone in Brazil can sing, at
least the chorus:
Mas isso nao impede que eu repita/ é
bonita, é bonita e é bonita!
(This doesn’t prevent me from repeating/ it
is beautiful, it is beautiful and it is beautiful!)