Electronic ‎– Electronic (1991)

Style: Pop Rock, Synth-pop
Format: CD, Vinyl, Cass.
Label: Warner Bros. Records, Tusk Music

Tracklist:
01.   Idiot Country
02.   Reality
03.   Tighten Up
04.   The Patience Of A Saint
05.   Getting Away With It
06.   Gangster
07.   Soviet
08.   Get The Message
09.   Try All You Want
10.   Some Distant Memory
11.   Feel Every Beat

Credits:
Guitar, Keyboards, Programmed By – Johnny Marr
Programmed By (Additional Programming) – Andy Robinson
Vocals, Keyboards, Programmed By – Bernard Sumner
Written-By – Sumner, Marr, Neil Tennant
Producer – Bernard Sumner, Johnny Marr,Neil Tennant

Both more and less than what a partnership of Sumner and Marr would promise, Electronic's debut has weathered time much better than might have been thought upon its release, but ultimately only half works. When it does, though, it's fantastic, sometimes shifting from okay to fantastic within the same song. Opening number "Idiot Country" is a bit like that -- the beginning sounds a little too rushed, Marr's heavy wah-wah riff OK enough but Sumner's semi-rap/semi-sung vocals a bit ham-handed. By the time the full combination of gentle keyboards, crisp rhythms, and the gentle, reflective chorus comes to bear, though, everything feels just great. Perhaps understandably Electronic leans much more toward New Order than the Smiths -- Marr had already proven his desire to work in dance-crossover since his previous band's breakup, while Sumner's immediately recognizable, melancholic vocals call to mind New Order's rich history. With synth bass and Rolands standing in for Peter Hook's own unique way around the low end, though, Electronic stands out more on its own. Marr's guitar work throughout tends towards the subtle via soft, brisk strums or the occasional repeated key riff; as he's credited for keyboards as well, it's likely much of his work ended up creating the pleasant synth melodies. There's nothing bad per se on Electronic, merely mediocre or a touch forced time to time -- "Gangster," for instance, has a great, cinematic tension undercut by Sumner's attempt at social relevance. The three singles from the album remain the highlights: the delicate, acoustic guitar-led slow groove of "Get the Message," "Feel Every Beat" and its appropriately slamming rhythms, and, in America, the group's brilliant debut effort "Getting Away with It." Neil Tennant of the Pet Shop Boys, who memorably guested on that last number, brings bandmate Chris Lowe along to help on his excellent, sly duet with Sumner -- "Patience of a Saint," another standout. 

Ned Raggett / AllMusic

Rocky Marsiano ‎– Meu Kamba (2014)

Genre: Hip Hop, Latin, Funk / Soul, Folk, World, & Country
Format: Vinyl, FLAC
Label:  Adam & Liza Music

Tracklist:
01.   Psycho Baio
02.   Dançante
03.   Tuta
04.   Genti (feat. Sagaz)
05.   Mexe Mexi
06.   Semba Assim
07.   Selva Rainha
08.   Kassula (feat. Sagaz)
09.   Da Banda
10.   Black Like Gold
11.   CL Suave
12.   Owyele
13.   Irri Birri
14.   Rengue Lengue

Rocky lançou um desafio para poder responder a ele. Da sua relação de longa data com Rui Miguel Abreu, estimado coleccionador e amante de discos (logo, também de música, para que não restem dúvidas) surgiu a ideia de trabalhar sobre originais de Angola, Moçambique, Cabo Verde e São Tomé, música que a cidade de Lisboa respira há muitos anos e que Rocky conheceu lateralmente durante os seus anos no hip hop, em Portugal (actualmente ele está em Amesterdão), convivendo com pessoal que transporta essa cultura. A transformação dos originais passa pela preservação do groove e a aplicação de um modelo hip hop de apropriação e transformação. A mistura de cores dá-se na MPC, colocando em marcha a a roda que ajuda a fornecer resposta para a pergunta no texto que acompanha o disco: “e se os b boys dançassem semba em vez de funk?” Temos a primeira edição, limitada, com capa impressa a cores. 

flur.pt

Bruno Pernadas ‎– How Can We Be Joyful In A World Full Of Knowledge (2014)

Style: Afrobeat, Psychedelic Rock, Ambient, Folk
Format: CD, FLAC
Label: Pataca Discos

Tracklist:
1. Ahhhhh
2.  I ndian Interlude
3.  Huzoor
4. Première
5.  Guitarras
6.  Pink Ponies Don't Fly On Jupiter
7.  How Would It Be 1
8.  How Would It Be 2
9.  L.A.

João Correia - Drums and Percussion
Sérgio Costa - Flute
Ricardo Ribeiro - Bass and Soprano Clarinets
José Maria Gonçalves - Saxophones
Afonso Cabral - Vocals
Margarida Campelo - Vocals
Francisca Cortesão - Vocals
Bruno Pernadas - Composition, Keyboards, Synthesizers, Vocals, Vibraphone and Guitars

Os ouvidos de Bruno Pernadas e todas as suas experiências parecem apontar para uma mistura interminável de influências. Prova disso é o seu disco de estreia a solo, How Can We Be Joyful In a World Full of Knowledge? (editado pela Pataca Discos), um trabalho dividido em nove destinos paradisíacos diferentes, através do uso extremamente bem calculado de experiências sonoras que vão desde o jazz ao Space Age-Pop.

Sem quaisquer exageros, Bruno Jorge de Oliveira Pernadas possui já um curriculum vitae bastante recheado e por isso, não era de esperar outra coisa. A sua experiência a solo estreia-se de forma bem sucedida, explorando pequenos desdobramentos de géneros musicais – consequência da herança que traz consigo, fruto dos seus vários trabalhos na cena jazz portuguesa. Composto e produzido pelo próprio, o álbum parece dividir-se em duas fatias distintas e conta com a colaboração de João Correia e Margarida Campelo (pertencentes a Julie & the Carjackers), Afonso Cabral (dos You Can’t Win, Charlie Brown) e Francisca Cortesão (Minta & the Brook Trout).

O single de abertura e previamente conhecido, “Ahhhhh”, surge extremamente bem posicionado já que nos abre portas para a linhagem musical experimental do disco – das notas vocais doces que repetem incessantemente Ahhhhh, ao exercício imposto pelo ritmo afro-beat que se acaba por criar. Abertura esta para o “Indian Interlude”, com ares de conto de fadas, que suspira ardentemente a um universo de colagens e ambiente pop sonhador.

Entretanto, somos transportados para outro destino improvável, o tema “Guitarras”, cujo nome define melhor do que ninguém o que se ouve nos seus quase oito minutos de duração. Exercício que condensa linhas de guitarra a saltitar num jogo instrumental alegre e onde se junta uma espécie de solo de improvisação de xilofone.

A atmosfera em que nos vimos até aqui isolados termina e somos levados para a outra fatia sonora do disco. Isto começa em “How Would It Be 1″, tema que dá início a uma estética mais tímida da obra. Três canções até ao final do trabalho, tratadas com a leveza do açúcar e que nos arrastam para um cenário bucólico e sereno.

How Can We Be Joyful In a World Full of Knowledge? surge-nos como um refúgio paradisíaco, tal como dissemos atrás, com canções capazes de brincar com diferentes cenários e sensações, ao mesmo tempo que intensificam as características (e qualidades) musicais de Bruno Pernadas. Um cenário imenso de opções a serem descobertas por quem o ouve, numa obra esculpida de forma criativa e imprevisível, abarcando vários géneros musicais. Um passo mais do que seguro na carreira do músico; um projecto inaugural que queremos, sem dúvida, ver florescer e sentir ganhar mais força para além dos seus próprios limites.

Ana Isabel Palha Rodrigues / punch 

Bruno Pernadas ‎– Those Who Throw Objects At The Crocodiles Will Be Asked To Retrieve Them (2016)

Style: Afrobeat, Downtempo, Free Jazz, Space-Age, Folk
Format: CD, FLAC
Label: Pataca Discos

Tracklist:
01.   Poem
02.   Spaceway 70
03.   Problem Number 6
04.   Valley In The Ocean
05.   Anywhere In Spacetime
06.   Poem
07.   Because It's Hard To Develop That Capacity On Your Own
08.   Galaxy
09.   Ya Ya Breathe
10.   Lachrymose

Credits:
Alto Saxophone, Tenor Saxophone – João Capinha
Baritone Saxophone, Tenor Saxophone – Raimundo Semedo
Bass – Nuno Lucas
Drums, Percussion – João Correia
Flute – Diana Mortágua
Guitar, Keyboards, Piano, Bass, Synthesizer, Vocals – Bruno Pernadas
Piano, Keyboards, Vocals – Margarida Campelo
Trumpet, Flugelhorn, Flute – Diogo Duque
Vocals – Afonso Cabral, Francisca Cortesão
Words By – Bruno Pernadas, Rita Westwood
Written-By, Arranged By, Producer – Bruno Pernadas

Depois de no dia 23 de Setembro Bruno Pernadas nos ter presenteado com dois discos, ouvimo-los noite e dia e temos algumas coisas a dizer sobre eles. Setembro não nos deixou sem antes dar início ao outono, mas este ano uma nova estação invade a nossa casa: Bruno Pernadas com Worst Summer Ever e Those Who Throw Objects At The Crocodiles Will Be Asked To Retrieve Them promete aquecer as nossas noites e acalmar as nossas vidas agitadas. O jazz único do português que este ano apaga 34 velas deslumbrou os nossos ouvidos com o seu primeiro álbum How can We Be Joyful in a World Full of Knowledge onde temas como Ahhhhh e Première assinam pelo artista pelo modo como vibram em nós. 

Agora em dose dupla, o compositor além de ocupados, deixa-nos…deslumbrados. 

Worst summer ever é a banda sonora perfeita para a história sem personagens que Bruno nos conta. 

Pode não figurar ninguém, mas os instrumentos de sopro guiam a intriga, a inspiração marca o lugar, a bateria gera o movimento e ação e a gentil guitarra é o figurante com mais destaque que qualquer filme teve. 

Aqui o jazz não é música de ambiente, não passa despercebido. As três primeiras faixas conservam o jazz às suas origens com um boom no final de cada uma delas. 

This is not a Folk song foi a que mais nos surpreendeu. Pela simplicidade, pela harmonia, pela genialidade. Existe algo de familiar com esta tema que nos envolve e tranquiliza. Perto do quinto minuto deste tema gera-se uma melodia vibrante onde cada instrumento tem a sua vez de brilhar num crescendo entusiasmante. 

Mas se a alegria nos invade com este último tema, a música Worst Summer Ever é diferente. Todas as histórias têm o seu capítulo de disputa, onde se gera a luta contra o vilão ou a momentânea derrota do bem. Este penúltimo tema transpira isso mesmo. 

Bruno encontra a rebeldia do jazz, ou talvez o jazz tenha despertado nele esta rebeldia? 

Those Who Throw Objects At The Crocodiles Will Be Asked To Retrieve Them conserva a sonoridade do jazz mas dá-lhe uma frescura e criatividade que nos deixa perplexos. As letras foram compostas em parceria com Rita Westwood, também a responsável pelas artes de capa dos dois discos. 

As inspirações orientais são claras em Problem number 6 e Anywhere In Spacetime, sendo que esta última se destacou entre as nossas favoritas. 

No entanto é o futurismo que mais marca este álbum, numa redescoberta deste estilo musical, onde a electrónica se conjuga com os instrumentos mais clássicos e a uma voz mutável (Francisca Cortesão e Margarida Campelo) que dão música a amantes abertos o suficiente para se prenderem a nada. 

E assim fica guiada a visita a Bruno Pernadas, já sabíamos ter em Portugal grandes nomes do jazz, mas inovadores como este? Parece-nos que não. 

E que falta que este lisboeta da Pataca Discos nos estava a fazer, nada melhor que dois grandes discos para nos despedirmos do Verão, que assim, sem dúvida, não foi o pior de sempre.

PIB 

Bruno Pernadas ‎– Worst Summer Ever (2016)

Style: Fusion, Contemporary Jazz
Format: CD, FLAC
Label: Pataca Discos

Tracklist:
1.   Love Versus Love
2.   Granado Wire
3.   September 4th
4.   Intro
5.   This Is Not A Folk Song
6.   Waltz
7.   Worst Summer Ever
8.   Before It Gets Too Late

Credits:
Bruno Pernadas - Guitar
Francisco Brito - Doublebass
Pedro Pinto - Doublebass
Joel Silva - Drums
David Pires - Drums
Sérgio Rodrigues - Piano
João Mortágua - Alto Saxophone
Desidério Lázaro - Tenor Saxophone

Depois de no dia 23 de Setembro Bruno Pernadas nos ter presenteado com dois discos, ouvimo-los noite e dia e temos algumas coisas a dizer sobre eles. Setembro não nos deixou sem antes dar início ao outono, mas este ano uma nova estação invade a nossa casa: Bruno Pernadas com Worst Summer Ever e Those Who Throw Objects At The Crocodiles Will Be Asked To Retrieve Them promete aquecer as nossas noites e acalmar as nossas vidas agitadas. O jazz único do português que este ano apaga 34 velas deslumbrou os nossos ouvidos com o seu primeiro álbum How can We Be Joyful in a World Full of Knowledge onde temas como Ahhhhh e Première assinam pelo artista pelo modo como vibram em nós. 

Agora em dose dupla, o compositor além de ocupados, deixa-nos…deslumbrados. 

Worst summer ever é a banda sonora perfeita para a história sem personagens que Bruno nos conta. 

Pode não figurar ninguém, mas os instrumentos de sopro guiam a intriga, a inspiração marca o lugar, a bateria gera o movimento e ação e a gentil guitarra é o figurante com mais destaque que qualquer filme teve. 

Aqui o jazz não é música de ambiente, não passa despercebido. As três primeiras faixas conservam o jazz às suas origens com um boom no final de cada uma delas. 

This is not a Folk song foi a que mais nos surpreendeu. Pela simplicidade, pela harmonia, pela genialidade. Existe algo de familiar com este tema que nos envolve e tranquiliza. Perto do quinto minuto deste tema gera-se uma melodia vibrante onde cada instrumento tem a sua vez de brilhar num crescendo entusiasmante. 

Mas se a alegria nos invade com este último tema, a música Worst Summer Ever é diferente. Todas as histórias têm o seu capítulo de disputa, onde se gera a luta contra o vilão ou a momentânea derrota do bem. Este penúltimo tema transpira isso mesmo. 

Bruno encontra a rebeldia do jazz, ou talvez o jazz tenha despertado nele esta rebeldia? 

Those Who Throw Objects At The Crocodiles Will Be Asked To Retrieve Them conserva a sonoridade do jazz mas dá-lhe uma frescura e criatividade que nos deixa perplexos. As letras foram compostas em parceria com Rita Westwood, também a responsável pelas artes de capa dos dois discos. 

As inspirações orientais são claras em Problem number 6 e Anywhere In Spacetime, sendo que esta última se destacou entre as nossas favoritas. 

No entanto é o futurismo que mais marca este álbum, numa redescoberta deste estilo musical, onde a electrónica se conjuga com os instrumentos mais clássicos e a uma voz mutável (Francisca Cortesão e Margarida Campelo) que dão música a amantes abertos o suficiente para se prenderem a nada. 

E assim fica guiada a visita a Bruno Pernadas, já sabíamos ter em Portugal grandes nomes do jazz, mas inovadores como este? Parece-nos que não. 

E que falta que este lisboeta da Pataca Discos nos estava a fazer, nada melhor que dois grandes discos para nos despedirmos do Verão, que assim, sem dúvida, não foi o pior de sempre.

PIB 

Happy Mondays ‎– Bummed (1988)

Style: Indie Rock
Format: CD, Vinyl, Cass.
Label: Factory

Tracklist:
01.   Country Song
02.   Moving In With
03.   Mad Cyril
04.   Fat Lady Wrestlers
05.   Performance
06.   Brain Dead
07.   Wrote For Luck
08.   Bring A Friend
09.   Do It Better
10.   Lazy Itis

Credits:
Banjo – Horseman
Bass – Paul Ryder
Drums – Gary Whelan
Guitar – Mark Day
Keyboards – Paul Davis
Percussion – Dave Hassell, Mark Berry
Piano – Steve Hopkins
Vocals – Shaun Ryder
Producer – Martin Hannett

Released as a new musical movement was gaining focus and shape after the second summer of love, Bummed represented something of a great leap forward for the Happy Mondays. The shambolic monotony of their John Cale-produced debut, Squirrel and G-Man 24 Hour Party People Plastic Face Carnt Smile (White Out) was replaced by well, a Martin Hannett-produced shambolic monotony. However, it is the rogue heart and spirit that beats away here is what stops the album from collapse. Given the pedigree of the city, Shaun Ryder's lyrics are some of the best to come out of Manchester, bringing a cast of no-hopers and vagabonds to life over the album's 10 tracks, all delivered with a great wit and slurry anti-charm. Here are characters like “Mad Cyril” (which took, like Big Audio Dynamite’s “E=Mc2” before it, inspiration from the Nic Roeg/Donald Cammell film Performance) or “Fat Lady Wrestlers”, and notably “Some C*nt From Preston” ('Smoking wild-grown mari-jo-wana keeps that smile on my face'), which had to be renamed “Country Song”. 

The Irish showband-flavoured "Lazyitis", although a direct swipe from "Ticket To Ride", is remarkable, highlighting the group’s growing musical adeptness and Ryder’s lyrical disdain. It was Martin Hannett’s final production of significance, and Central Station’s saucy sleeve help Bummed capture the Mondays exactly as they were, untrained, vulgar, as far outside the marketing machine as possible. And very very beautiful. 

"Wrote For Luck" is the album's monster, one of the handful of definitive Mondays' tracks. When it was later remixed as "W.F.L" by Paul Oakenfold and Vince Clarke, Madchester as we know it was born.

Daryl Easlea / BBC Review

Kieran Hebden / Steve Reid ‎– NYC (2008)

Style: Experimental, Free Jazz
Format: CD
Label: Domino

Tracklist:
1.   Lyman Place
2.   1st & 1st
3.   25th Street
4.   Arrival
5.   Between B & C
6.   Departure

Credits:
Drums – Steve Reid
Electronics – Kieran Hebden

The recent Four Tet EP Ringer not only revealed Kieran Hebden to be a surprisingly dexterous techno producer, but also found him making an asset out of his greatest liability. For all the cosmic wonder he can evoke by placing electronics against naturalistic backdrops, Hebden has often gotten himsef stuck in ruts, even if just for a few moments here and there. In part, that's the fate of an improviser, but it's exacerbated by samplers and machines that can be slow to respond to Hebden's shifts, however smartly they're triggered. In improvised music, it's one thing to sound like you're in transition and another thing to actually be in transition. 

None of that mattered on Ringer, thanks in part to techno's formalist grounding. But it matters a lot on NYC, the fourth album made by Hebden and jazz drummer Steve Reid. Ringer's functional dance-music accepts, even privileges, the kind of ruts that have tripped up Hebden in the past; NYC, meanwhile, puts them to work in settings that serve different purposes. On the duo's earlier albums, Hebden and Reid occasionally sounded like they were only barely aware of what the other was doing or might stand to do next. On NYC, they sound much more conscious and sympathetic. 

"Lyman Place" starts the album with an unvarying few-note bass-line set against the sound of a jet engine rising in long, slow takes. It sounds like something Miles Davis would have done in the 1970s, and Hebden's relative understatedness helps set off Reid's drumming-- circular, splashy, coyly shrouded by the shimmer of persistent cymbals. "1st & 1st" follows with a fit of funk built around a guitar sample that Hebden makes sound twitchy, like a signal from a world away.

It sounds as if Hebden made a strategic decision to do less on this album, which heightens the impact when he does make a move. Reid benefits greatly from the space to breathe-- much of his drumming on the duo's other records sounds comparatively crowded and confused by how to connect with Hebden. And Hebden himself shows off a new sense of always being in the right place at the right time, without getting caught out in between. He hasn't lost any of the polyglot record-collector drive that has made Four Tet matter from the start: NYC wanders through spells informed by melodica-strewn dub, shoegaze rock, weird folk, and of course the clattering sense of purpose at work in free-jazz. But Hebden sounds considerably more easy-going now, like he's taking time to listen in to what comes out as it happens all around him. 

Andy Battaglia / Pitchfork

Scott Walker ‎– Any Day Now (1973)

Genre: Pop
Fomat: CD, Vinyl
Label: Fontana, Philips

Tracklist:
A1.   Any Day Now
A2.   All My Love's Laughter
A3.   Do I Love You
A4.   Maria Bethania
A5.   Cowboy
A6.   When You Get Right Down To It
B1.   If
B2.   Ain't No Sunshines
B3.   The Me I Never Knew
B4.   If Ships Were Made To Sail
B5.   We Could Be Flying

Credits:
Arranged By, Conductor – Peter Knight, Robert Cornford
Producer – John Franz

Brian Eno ‎– The Ship (2016)

Style: Ambient
Format: CD, Vinyl
Label: Warp Records

Tracklist
1.   The Ship
2.   Fickle Sun (I)
3.   Fickle Sun (II) The Hour Is Thin
4.   Fickle Sun (III) I'm Set Free
5. Away

Credits: Instruments – Brian Eno Mastered By – Matt Colton Producer – Brian Eno, Peter Chilvers Recorded By – Brian Eno, Peter Chilvers

There aren't many artists who, with 40-plus years of record-making under their belts, still see each record as a way to challenge their own paradigms with something new and different. For Brian Eno, however, this kind of challenge is core to his identity as a musician. The Ship, Eno’s newest release and his sixth on Warp, somehow manages to feel distinct from all the work he’s done. He describes this divergence as a desire “to make a record of songs that didn’t rely on the normal underpinnings of rhythmic structure and chord progressions but which allowed voices to exist in their own space and time, like events in a landscape.” The Ship is broken into four tracks that more or less flow into one fluid 48-minute suite of music. 

On his website Eno describes his inspiration for The Ship as coming from, among other things, a fascination with the sinking of the Titanic and humankind’s balance “between hubris and paranoia.” That Eno should go here now is an interesting way of coming around full circle, because four decades ago he kicked off his non-pop career by issuing The Sinking of the Titanic by his friend and peer Gavin Bryars. That release, which featured not only Bryars but also Michael Nyman and Derek Bailey, was the very first on Eno’s then-new Obscure label in 1975, and served as one more footnote in the annals of Eno’s history in serving as a nexus for the “scenius.” (a term he coined to describe his belief that “it’s not individuals who create things, it’s scenes.”) The Bryars opus is also a double-edged sword as reference points go, because it has claimed ownership on Titanic-related musical storytelling, and it’s also incredibly good. 

Thankfully, the comparisons end there. While Bryars’s piece, with its beautiful, looping melody and gentle, nagging insistence, conjures a feeling of an auspicious capital-M Moment whirlpooling slowly downward, Eno’s opening track “The Ship” tells a story not of submerging into sea but of floating listlessly across windless water and forever fog, waves nibbling at the bow and starboard. With a minimalist structure and languid pace, this is not music meant to be experienced or appreciated by those in a hurry, or to be played in the background; it demands your attention in a way that quiet music often doesn’t.

For those willing to stick it out for 21 minutes, “The Ship” unfolds with a kind of majesty that can make one feel like they’re getting their body re-calibrated. Slowly shifting synths establish both gait and mood, before eventually giving way to poem-like vocals by Eno, intoned in a sort of Gregorian chant that only serves to strengthen the feeling that you are being induced into a meditative state. They continue for several minutes before subsiding and the track’s gentle voyage continues, with pitch-shifted voice returning with the refrain “Wave, after wave, after wave.” While not ambient music, the sounds at times resemble moments from Eno’s past, including especially the burbling sounds around 5:50 that recall his work with Bowie on Heroes’ "Neuköln." 

From here, The Ship gives way to the album’s second longest composition, “Fickle Sun (i),” clocking in at 18 minutes. Though the pace is a similar speed to “The Ship,” the feel is quite different, with a bass somewhere between “bounce” and “plod” and trebly, rising synths that give the track a menacing oomph. A later section seems to call upon the ’00s work of Fennesz, David Sylvian, and Scott Walker, which are good reference points for this record in general. While “The Ship” is remarkable for sustaining a specific tone for 21 minutes, all the while telling a clear story, “Fickle Sun (i)” is just as impressive, going in more directions musically and challenging the listener’s sense of understanding. 

After these two behemoths conclude, the storm clears and we are left with two brief cuts that function more as appendices, both of which are technically parts of “(ii)” and “(iii)” of “Fickle Sun” and each of which present issues for different reasons. “(ii)”, subtitled “The Hour Is Thin,” carries the same emotional tone, but stripped down only to plaintively struck piano notes and with a spoken-word piece by Peter Serafinowicz. While the music itself fits very well here, it would have been preferable to hear Eno’s honeyed baritone instead of Serafinowicz's clinical recitation. And “Fickle Sun (iii)” is a luxurious, jaw-dropping cover of the Velvet Underground’s “I’m Set Free” emerging unexpectedly from the last twinkled notes of “The Hour is Thin.” It’s incongruous to the rest of the record, but is so painfully perfect it can make you nearly let go of everything you’ve just heard to imagine, for a second, that Eno hadn’t stopped making pop music all those years ago. 

The Ship is a great, unexpected record. The title track and “Fickle Sun (i)” on their own and as a connected piece of music are marvelous accomplishments, distinctive in Eno’s catalog. And “I’m Set Free” immediately ranks among the most perfect-sounding pop songs Eno has ever had a hand in making. It is a little tough to process the disparity between the minimalist front and the melodic hanging chad of “I’m Set Free” at the end—and the latter is just so damned good that Eno’s pop fans may weep over being denied a full record’s worth of it. But in the end it’s easy to feel grateful that it all exists, and enthusiastic that Eno is an artist who still sees new techniques to learn and new landscapes to paint. 

Benjamin Scheim / Pitchfork

Tom Zé ‎– Estudando O Pagode (2005)

Style: Experimental
Format: CD, Vinyl
Label: Luaka Bop, Trama

Tracklist:
        Primeiro Ato
01.   Ave Dor Maria
02.   Estúpido Rapaz
03.   Proposta De Amor
04.   Quero Pensar (A Mulher De Bath)
05.   Mulher Navio Negreiro
06.   Pagode-Enredo Dos Tempos Do Medo
        Segundo Ato
07.   Canção De Nora (Casa De Bonecas)
08.   O Amor É Um Rock
09.   Duas Opiniões
10.   Elaeu
11.   Vibração Da Carne
12.   Para Lá Do Pará
13.   Prazer Carnal
        Terceiro Ato
14.   Teatro (Dom Quixote)
15.   A Volta Do Trem Das Onze (8,5 Milhões De Km2)
16.   Beatles A Granel

Credits:
Arranged By – Jair Oliveira, Paulo Lepetit, Tom Zé
Engineer – Paulo Lepetit, Rodrigo Sanches
Mastered By – Marcos Eagle
Mixed By – Rodrigo Sanches
Producer – Jair Oliveira

Antônio José Santana Martins was born in Brazil's Bahia region in 1936. We know him as Tom Zé, and at age 70 he's still making resolutely avant-garde music, or "spoken and sung journalism," as he calls it. Zé has never had much use for artistic boundaries, and his history of creating challenging and sometimes outright weird records always kept him on the fringe of Brazilian music. It wasn't until David Byrne discovered his records in the late 1980s, ultimately making him the first signing to the Luaka Bop label, that he gained international fame as one of Brazil's most inspired sonic troublemakers. At the time, he had been making a living in his hometown at his nephew's gas station. 

Nearly 20 years later, Zé occupies a revered space in Brazilian culture and music well out of proportion to any sales or popular notoriety he managed to compile in his heyday. But Zé's latest opus, Estudando o Pagode, is worthy of acclaim purely on its own terms. It's an ambitious, flawed, and ultimately vital work of astounding creativity that's in some ways even more radical than the recordings he made in his thirties. 

Musically, the album is exactly what the title says it is: A study of pagode music. Pagode first developed as a sort of recreational, improvised music for samba musicians to play at gatherings and has evolved into a dance music of the street-- something of a rural analog to the baile funk that's become well-known in the last few years. Zé claims to have chosen this form largely because, like baile funk (and, for that matter, Tropicalia), it is widely reviled by the Brazilian middle classes. Of course, a guy like Zé was never going to play it totally straight, and the music is shot through with the influence of rock, funk, and hip-hop. The lyrics in pagode frequently objectify women and Zé explicitly confronts this aspect of the style and subverts the music's normal focus. 

Lyrically, Estudando o Pagode is a complex, layered operetta featuring a cast of characters ranging from supernatural beings to everyday people. The overriding theme is the oppression of women by men throughout history; much of Zé's drama centers around a male character who, when attempting to shed paternalistic ideas, can't help bringing his own traditional associations into play. So the use of pagode music as the basis for the album is both ironic and culturally astute: It keeps the album firmly rooted in popular Brazilian forms, while using a traditionally macho music to denounce the subjugation of women. 

Does this all sound complicated enough for you? Estudando o Pagode certainly sprawls, but it does so in the same way Rio, São Paulo, and Brasilia sprawl: Alternately in patterns and haphazardly, overflowing with humanity at all points, and messy at the edges. And unless you speak Brazilian Portuguese, all of the album's pretense-- it comes with a full libretto, and press copies also included mock Cliffs Notes-- will be confined to the accompanying booklet. That leaves you with the wild musical mélange cooked up by Zé and producer Jair Oliveira, and it never gets boring or too inaccessible. Male and female vocals, sung and spoken, alone and en masse, share space in the constantly shifting arrangements, where acoustic guitars, hand percussion, and jerry-built instruments like piles of metal and rolled ficus leaves mingle with programmed drums and mangled electronic tones. Vocals are pitch-shifted, donkeys and orgasms are imitated and simulated, respectively, while "Mulher Navio Negreiro" includes voices approximating the sound of wind. 

The record opens with "Ave Dor Maria", riding a hip-hop beat topped with heavy descending guitar riffs and all manner of whizzing, fractured electronics, and Zé doesn't betray his age at all with his aggressive vocal delivery. Elsewhere, his singing ability sounds barely the worse for wear, and though he's never been thought of as a "singer" so much as a maverick, he deserves credit for making his average pipes do some pretty extraordinary things. Zé received formal musical training in college, and here he seems to use every ounce of it to subvert normality, using unusual chromatic piano runs in "Quero Pensar", otherwise one of the catchiest, most harmonically traditional songs on the album. 

What really makes the album work is that the music transcends the underlying intellectual conceits. For instance, the scene that "Duas Opiniões" corresponds to, called "It's Ridiculous to Cry", includes a conversation in the Garden of Eden and a revelation of gossip in the court of angels, but on the level of pure listening, it sounds like a damn nice Brazilian ballad. Likewise, "Elaeu" couches its gay-rights message in an instantly memorable pop song, warped at the edges by swirling electronics. 

Bottom line, Estudando o Pagode is an impressive album, musically, conceptually, and lyrically, and the cast of musicians and singers Zé assembled delivers on his singular vision. Whether or not this appeals to you depends on a lot of things, from your appetite for foreign-language music to your appetite for music guided by a Dadaist sensibility. If you're a newcomer to Zé, you'd probably be better off listening to Luaka Bop's 1991 Brazil Classics, Vol. 4: The Best of Tom Zé compilation first (I recommend this mostly because of the difficulty of finding his 1970 self-titled album). But in spite of its imposing premise, this album is surprisingly approachable and undeniably unique.

Joe Tangari / Pitchfork