Vinicius Cantuaria
Tucumã

    GENRE: BOSSANOVA, NU BRASIL

    If someone had passed by during that time near Forest Sound and Shelter Island in New York, they would have surely noticed that something special was happening. What was Bill Frisell doing with Joey Baron, Mark Feldman, and Erik Freidlander? And with whom were the latter and Arto Lindsay recording? And, furthermore, why were Laurie Anderson, Nana Vasconcelos, and even Sean Lennon (!) frequently seen in the area?   

    A few months later in a city in southern Italy, a tender young man—who was suffering from love at the time—purchased the fruit of these mysterious encounters. He had already appreciated the previous work (produced by Lindsay and Sakamoto) of this Brazilian musician (formerly a guitarist, drummer, percussionist, and writer for Lindsay, Veloso, and Gil), but certainly did not imagine that this album would haunt him and that one song would even amplify his ill-fated affliction.

    THE PERFECT HEARTBREAK SONG

    What else could be expected from this Buster Keaton of the state of Amazonas if not a perfect heartbreak song like “Amor Brasileiro”? Over an arpeggio with the rhythm of samba, enriched by Frisell's reverberated guitar, Michael Leonhart's trumpet, and above all by the delicate crescendo of a superlative Joey Baron, Vinicius Cantuaria—as if he had only read Ovid, the Italian Neoplatonists, and Shakespeare's "The Tempest"—sang about love in these terms: "Let love fill entirely, because only this leads to transformation." Then, after explaining that for him, a Brazilian in the Big Apple, nostalgia for his homeland was the green Amazonian source of his poetry ("feel this love, strong, Brazilian, the love for your home, the inspiration"), he listed all possible forms of love like Dante's Ulysses (If.XXVI, 94-95): "a father’s love, a son’s love, a friend’s love, or the love that brings concern, that takes away sleep, hunger, and leaves one distressed," including those who benevolently deprive others of the superfluous ("the love of a thief, a good form of love"), and finally addressed the person all this was initially meant for ("to be able to love you just one more time, to be able to do it just one more time, to love you just one more time, forever"). Even in the now distant 1999, this was curing with slow homeopathic magic that increasingly unhappy young man.

    THE REST OF THE ALBUM

    was, all things considered, despite the high level of genius of the participants, less memorable and, in hindsight, one could say it already foreshadowed the barrenness of subsequent productions. After a simply pleasant bossanova ("Maravilhar"), the northeastern "Sanfona" was systematically skipped by you. However, the covers of Veloso ("Aracajú" and "Jóia"), the instrumental "Igarape" and "Retirante" (with a Laurie Anderson more Lou Reed-like than ever), and "Pra Gil" (dedicated to Gilberto Gil), and at the end of the album—justifying its purchase—fortunately contained another masterpiece: the cover of the most beautiful song by Alcides Dias Lopez ("Vivo isolado do mundo"). The usual story of this man, now happily married and a father, who remembered for three minutes (just the time of a samba) how much he had to suffer for another woman, in this new poignant interpretation had nothing of the irony and ferocity present instead in the famous version by Zeca Pagodinho. In the confidence directed at his friend ("but she does not know, friend, what she lost, a sincere and pure love from a dark man like me"), there was no trace of pride, but only an infinite regret. In some ways complementing "Amor brasileiro," this other great track (with a lyrical Friedlander and an always subversive Lindsay) was about ten years ago constantly in the ears and heart of the sad muitosladusismo who was for a while compelled to pair with as many women as possible (including a friend of the woman who always denied him), before being "regenerated"—and better than the protagonist of "Vivo isolado do mundo"—by his current super girlfriend "shapely, irritable, vain" and "lovely as a cherub". Today, I can only recommend this album to anyone in need of two similar songs, and if you've made it this far, I hope, dear devotes, you forgive me for the adolescent content and the length of my writing, but, as is well known, music has always been important, especially in war, and even more so in love. In this regard, I would be delighted also to know from you what your perfect heartbreak song has been…but please, do not tell me this one!

P.S. A heartfelt thank you to Appestato mantrico for his explanations on the use of links and to Il_Paolo for his valuable advice.