Monday, 18 May 2020

Psychic Temple ‎– Psychic Temple Plays Music For Airports (2016)

Style: Avant-garde Jazz
Format: Vinyl
Label: Joyful Noise Recordings

Tracklist:
A1.   Music For Airports
B1.   Music For Bus Stops

Credits:
Double Bass – David Tranchina
Drums – Tabor Allen
Drums, Percussion – Sheridan Riley
Electric Bass – Mike Watt
Electric Guitar – Paul Masvidal
Electric Organ – Philip Glenn
Electric Piano – Cathlene Pineda
Mixed By – Ronan Chris Murphy
Trumpet – Kris Tiner
Trombone, Euphonium, Horn, Valve Trombone – Danny T. Levin
Producer, Arranged By, Electric Guitar – Chris Schlarb

Adapting pop songs for jazz ensemble is something of a tradition in the jazz universe.  The typically elevated musicianship of a jazz ensemble, combined with the tangential strength in the area of improvisation are potent tools to apply to a pop song, to open it up in ways that the original composer never envisioned or anticipated.  A classic example of this potential is John Coltrane’s adaptation of “My Favorite Things,” and how he honors the original melody by keeping its cheerful and festive tone but also launches into dramatic and free improvisations, infusing it with power and fury and a perspective as vast as any horizon line.  More recently, pianist Robert Glasper’s mash-up of Radiohead’s “Everything In Its Right Place” and Herbie Hancock’s “Maiden Voyage” was a massively insightful vision of the interlocking pieces of melodies and the rhythms that surround them. 
Brian Eno - "Music for Airports"The Chris Schlarb ensemble Psychic Temple has stepped up and given a rendition that, arguably, should be included on any list of great jazz adaptations of pop songs.  Brian Eno’s 1978 release “Music for Airports” was the first of his Ambient tetralogy, an outstanding album that showed how a well-crafted melody, breathed out slowly in a minimalism environment, could sound like the unfolding of entire universes.  Triggering that effect is the opening track’s melody on piano and keys.  For Psychic Temple, that is merely the starting gate. 
Miles Davis - "In a Silent Way"It’s Kris Tiner’s trumpet that voices the melody of “Music For Airports 1/1,” whereas the keyboard roles are assigned to conjuring up a different kind of ambient music, something far more reminiscent of the Miles Davis jazz-rock fusion era… in particular his 1969 release In a Silent Way.  But it doesn’t stay ambient for long, as the large ensemble continues to build the intensity through the layering of their sound while simultaneously intertwining melodic strands through the fabric of the harmonies.  It creates a wave that only crests and breaks near the finale, when it returns to a peaceful state. 
Clark Terry - "Serenade to a Bus Seat"It leads into the second of the album’s three extended pieces… “Music For Bus Stops.”  This one takes a straight-ahead jazz route, though with some changes in trajectory for some blues expressions and some funk grooves.  This is not a sea change of sound, though, from its predecessor.  That 1970s Miles jazz-rock electro-acoustic action is still in the mix, but now it gets focused through the lens of a modern jazz voice.  The thesis statement of melody is rolled out in the opening, and it gets referenced throughout, but where the Eno cover was more about ensemble play, “Music For Bus Stops” follows a more familiar mode of development that gives plenty of space for soloists to step up to the front of the stage and be heard. 
And, with it, comes its own bird-of-a-feather comparison… Clark Terry’s Serenade to a Bus Seat.  This 1957 recording was your basic straight-ahead bop session, and maybe it was just the suggestive album cover and title, but the music seemed to reflect the synchronized chaos of that mode of transportation.  The Psychic Temple song “Music for Bus Stops” seems to have the same idea in mind, and when compared to controlled, focused, streamlined nature of airports, both in reality and as a sonic expression of the opening track, Psychic Temple seems to have encapsulated the spirit of the experiences. 
The album’s third and final track is an alternate version of the opener.  But this time around, the ensemble sticks closer to Eno’s original (and, for that matter, the title-track to Davis’s In a Silent Way), maintaining a tranquil presence from first note to last.  It’s yet another inspired take on this seriously inspired album.
davesumner / Bird is the Worm

Rita Braga ‎– Bird On The Moon (2018)

Genre: Electronic, Pop
Format: FLAC
Label: Lunadélia Records

Tracklist:
01.   Is There Another World?
02.   National Anthem To The Moon
03.   Vampires On Horses
04.   Grãos De Arroz
05.   O Estacionamento
06.   Millions Of Reflections
07.   Comichão
08.   Das Delfinwunde
09.   I Can Still Remember Spring
10.   Church Bite
11.   Believe It Or Not
12.   Upa Upa (Meu Trolinho)
13.   Je N'arrive Pas
14.   A Quantic Dream

Credits:
Harp – Angélica V. Salvi
Theremin – Dorit Chrysler
Percussion – João Pais Filipe
Vocals – Ian Svenonius, Mary Ocher
Composed By, Lyrics By, Vocals, Synthesizer, Ukulele – Rita Braga

Rita Braga is a singer-songwriter born in Lisbon in 1985, now residing in London. Bird on the Moon is her second release and it is one quirky album. Over the course of 28 minutes and 14 tracks, you will hear lyrics in five different languages: English, Portuguese, Spanish, French, and German. Accompanying herself on ukulele, harp, cheap analog synths, and rhythm machines, Rita’s minimal compositions provide a weird peek inside her mind and her love of old cartoons and movies. Similar to Pascal Comelade’s compositions using toy instruments, Rita’s love of old Casio toy synths and rhythm machines provides a similar vibe. Though Rita is not near as outré as Petunia-Liebling MacPumpkin’s modern take on The Residents, Rita’s songs do provide a change of pace to the sonic barrage of today’s musicians. Rita jumps around from songs with her little girl voice like Joanna Newsome, to oddball tunes similar to Ptôse or Der Plan, to the Kraftwerk influenced “Das Delfinwunder,” to the oompah-esque “Upa Upa (Meu Trolinho),” to the slightly cosmic album closer “A Quantic Dream.” There is even a pseudo-Broadway tune “I Can Still Remember Spring.” Bird on the Moon is definitely not something you encounter every day, but an album well worth investigating.
Henry Schneider / exposé

Einstürzende Neubauten ‎– Halber Mensch (1985)

Style: Noise, Avantgarde, Experimental, Industrial
Format: CD, Vinyl
Label: Some Bizzare, Potomak, Thirty Ear

Tracklist:
01.   Halber Mensch
02.   Yü-Gung (Fütter Mein Ego)
03.   Trinklied
04.   Z.N.S.
05.   Seele Brennt
06.   Sehnsucht (Zitternd)
07.   Der Tod Ist Ein Dandy
08.   Letztes Biest (Am Himmel)
09.   San
10.   Yü-Gung (Adrian Sherwood Mix)
11.   Das Schaben

Credits:
Producer, Recorded By, Mixed By – Gareth Jones
Producer, Songwriter– Einstürzende Neubauten
Remastered By – Michael Schwabe
Performer – Alexander Hacke, Blixa Bargeld, F.M. Einheit, Mark Chung, N. U. Unruh
Meio marco, meio revolucionário, terceiro álbum dos alemães foi além de um simples número em sua discografia

Halber Mensch 34 anos hoje. Em 1985 o grupo liderado pelo vocalista Blixa Bargeld lançava seu terceiro e mais marcante disco da discografia. Gravado no lendário Hansa Studios em Berlim, a produção foi dividida entre a banda e Gareth Jones, conhecido por seus trabalhos no Depeche Mode. As composições tomaram forma entre 1983 e 1985, tendo como força motriz a experimentação, mas de uma forma mais madura. O álbum saiu pelo carimbo Some Bizarre Rercords.

Como era de se esperar de um grupo sem intenções comerciais (tradicionais), nenhum single foi lançado para promover ½ Mensch. Em contrapartida, no ano seguinte lançam um video homônimo de aproximadamente 1 hora, oriundo de sua visita ao Japão. 
O longa conta com direção do cineasta japonês Gakuryu Ishii, também conhecido como Sogo Ishii, e mostra a banda tocando em uma fábrica desativada, assim como a performance de dançarinos Butô – dança com origem no Japão pós-guerra, que vaga pelo expressionismo, surrealismo, construtivismo e outros.

Durante a turnê de promoção de Halber Mensch (álbum), a banda tocou na edição alemã da Expo 86, patrocinada pelo Goethe Institute, que também teria os industrialistas londrinos do Test Dept e os canadenses Skinny Puppy. 
Embora conhecidos pela sonoridade industrial mais harsh, ou seja, deveras inacessível, a quantidade de bandas que estes alemães influenciaram não cabe no papel; indo de falanges mais pesadas como Fear Factory às mais pop como Depeche Mode, além de fãs famosos de outras esferas sônicas como Henry Rollins no punk.
Luiz Athayde / Class Of Sounds
Einstürzende Neubauten are generally known more for their unwieldy name (referring to the sounds made by collapsing buildings) than any musical contribution they have made, but it’s a simple fact for those in the know that this group of Germans was one of the biggest influences on the Industrial genre, continuing the ‘work’ of Throbbing Gristle and becoming a strange offshoot of Krautrock in many ways. Frontman Bliza Bargeld (also until recently of Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds) described the band once as the aural equivalent of the Baader-Meinhof Group, and that ‘noise terrorist’ mentality can often be found in their music. Their first album was recorded to a tape recorder set in a pillar of the Stadtautobahn Bridge in West Berlin, their drummer doesn’t use a conventional kit but random pieces of scrap metal, they make many of their own instruments and went to the extent of shooting microphones over the Berlin Wall as part of their hunt for sounds. 
Although in recent years the band may have mellowed out, back in 1985 they were only just beginning to make their sound more accessible, and ½ Mensch is still a tough listen for those used to conventional musical structures. Sudden screams and stream-of-consciousness vocals from Blixa, the metallic cacophony from the band, the twisted catchiness of the songs mixing freely with an even more twisted creepy atmosphere... this is as hard an album to describe as it can be to listen to! Yet what amazes me about this, and other, even more difficult Einstürzende Neubauten albums, is how it comes together and clearly forms music, as grotesque as it is. 
The opening title track is a capella and features a cacophony of strange vocals, chanting, singing, calling, leading suddenly into the infectious beats of Yü-Gung (Fütter Mein Ego), one of the band’s best known songs, describing the effects of amphetamine addiction and insomnia. It may seem a strangely random piece at first, a backing beat with several smaller beats above and around it whilst Blixa howls and squeals over the top, but when you research and discover than one of those odd sounds that you hear is a razorblade tapping against a mirror, it begins to make an eerie sort of sense, and is certainly more effective than the over-the-top antics of Rammstein, one of the bands directly influenced by Einstürzende Neubauten. As there, so here; although understanding German will help you understand just what Blixa is yelling about, it isn’t a necessity before you begin to listen, such is the passion at work. 
Each track present is distinct and unique, truly interesting music made literally from shouting and hitting things with sticks; the martial stomp of Trinklied, the sledgehammer disco of Z.N.S, the percussive tapper of Seele Brennt... Interestingly, to my knowledge the band have never made it clear exactly how they created each song, and this makes it a deeper, more atmospheric listen. Often, it’s hard to even guess at what could create the various sounds you hear here, and as a result your mind can easily wander and think it’s heard, for example, the pitter-patter of feet on Z.N.S to wonderfully creepy effect. 
Clearly, this isn’t for everyone. Heck, I hardly ever listen to this band myself, but there’s no doubt about the fact that they’re quite unique, and deserve a listen if only so you can say you’ve experienced it. A better introduction may well be one of the band’s DVDs so you can see as well as hear their individual sturm und drang; I’ve been trying to get hold of the 2006 Palaste Der Republik show, where the audience came armed with drumsticks and became part of the concert themselves, for a while now without paying ridiculous prices. If you have an interest in the Industrial genre and a very open mind indeed, then Einstürzende Neubauten are a group that have been experimenting with the base elements of music for many years now, and deserve much more exposure than they currently get.
Goat / Metal Reviews

Catherine Ribeiro + Alpes ‎– n°2 (1970)

Style: Chanson, Prog Rock, Experimental
Format: CD, Vinyl
Label: Anthology Recordings, Disques Festival

Tracklist:
1.   Prelude
2.   Sîrba
3.   15 Aout 1970
4.   Silen Voy Kathy
5.   Prelude
6.   Poème Non Epique
7.   Ballada Das Aguas

Credits:
Percussion, Organ – Denis Cohen
Portuguese Guitar – Isaac Robles Monteiro, Pires Moliceiro
Vocals – Catherine Ribeiro
Classical Guitar, Organ, Vocals, Lyre – Patrice Moullet
Composed By – Catherine Ribeiro, Patrice Moullet

Beauty and chaos intermingle in these early-1970s touchstones of avant-garde folk. The French-Portuguese singer’s unearthly voice and searching lyrics made them cult classics. 
The first three records by the French-Portuguese singer Catherine Ribeiro and her inventive, psychedelic backing band Alpes are the types of elusive record-collector gems that feel like transmissions from another world. These new reissues from Anthology Recordings mark their first official release in the United States, and, up until now, their legend was due in part to their scarcity. Kim Gordon, one of Ribeiro’s most vocal supporters, recently noted that she only discovered Alpes’ 1971 sophomore album, Âme Debout, around a decade ago, possibly hipped to it by Jim O’Rourke. A lot of people arrive at Ribeiro’s music with similar stories. You hear this unearthly voice emerging from somebody’s speakers. You listen to the wild, visionary music accompanying it. Suddenly you need to know everything. 
Ask Ribeiro, and you won’t find many answers. The accompanying liner notes sketch her life prior to Alpes’ debut, 1970’s Nº2, in stark terms: “It was an immense pile of waste and solitude,” is how she summarizes her formative years. In her 1999 memoir, L’Enfance, Ribeiro dives deeper. She was born in Lyon, France during wartime. Her brother died as an infant. She spent an inordinate amount of her youth hiding in the darkness of a makeshift bomb cellar. Before she immersed herself in music, Ribeiro was an actor, appearing in Jean Luc Godard’s 1963 anti-war film Les Carabiniers. In her most memorable scene, she watches her soldier husband display a series of surreal, beatific postcards from the war. The message was simple: Look how we suppress and miscast the brutality of our lives; look how we reenact that violence on others. Ribeiro swore to never make this mistake in her art. 
With Alpes, Ribeiro filtered nihilism, anger, and empathy into triumphant, multi-layered collages, galloping and stuttering as though the acid had kicked in midway through a hike at sunrise. “Peace to those who howl because they see clearly,” goes one of her iconic lyrics. Ribeiro does just that, but her voice is such a versatile instrument that it cannot be limited to one mission. She laughs, she caws, she screams, she mourns, she barks, she brays. She sings about suicide, about motherhood and madness, about doomed affairs between Eastern European women and politicians from imagined countries. The music—which calcified into the sound of an identifiable avant-garde-leaning psych-folk band throughout these three LPs—touches on the swirl of 1960s rock and the theatrical swell of 1970s prog, stretching both genres to their most impressionistic extremes. As a group, Alpes can sound eerily beautiful or demonically possessed, sometimes whiplashing between those modes as if satirizing the entire scope of rock music.

Prior to the formation of Alpes, Ribeiro mostly sang folk songs. Among her first recordings was a French translation of Bob Dylan’s “It’s All Over Now Baby Blue.” In her home country, where solo singers were still more fashionable than bands, she summoned a backing group called 2Bis, featuring multi-instrumentalist Patrice Moullet. Their music rattled and buzzed like something wild in a too-small cage: You could hear Ribeiro trying to break free. When she rebranded as Alpes, Ribeiro fully embraced chaos. Nº2’s “Poème Non Epique” spans 18 minutes as she intones with ferocity against Moullet’s rumbling backdrop. Inspired by Malcolm Lowry’s novel Under the Volcano (and the hallucinogens Lowry reportedly ingested to complete it), Ribeiro aimed to make music that spoke to her “cravings for freedom, for incomplete epiphanies, for spontaneous careless decisions.” Smoky and uncontainable, Nº2 finds her embarking on that journey like she’d been waiting her whole life to take it. 
From here, her music would grow more disciplined and more boundless. Moullet would remain the only consistent member of her band, alternating between gorgeously fingerpicked classical guitar and noisy, invented instruments like his “cosmophone,” which looks like a lyre but sounds like a buzzsaw. Âme Debout, the sparsest release of the three, peaks with its ballads at the beginning and end: “Diborowska” and “Dingue,” acoustic laments that Ribeiro sings in a frayed, desperate tone like she’s trying to tear them apart from the inside. At the center of the album is a series of tracks titled “Alpes” that feel improvisatory, almost drone-like, save for one thrashing element (Claude Thiebaut’s restless percussion in “Alpes 1,” Ribeiro’s unsettling growls in “Alpes 2”). The crescendo resolves with the wordless “Aria Populaire,” a prayer that forecasts the emotional clarity to come. 
If Âme Debout was the sound of a band finding its footing, then 1972’s Paix is when they become airborne. It stands as Ribeiro’s masterpiece because it comes the closest to containing her multitudes, housing her most beautiful composition (the love song “Jusqu'à Ce Que La force de T'aimer Me Manque”) and her most wildly experimental. The music is driven by an incessant rhythm, echoed by Patrice Lemoine of the prog/space-rock band Gong on organ (maybe the sound that most directly time-stamps this music to its era). Throughout, Ribeiro gazes toward the future. The final third of the epic title track resembles doom metal in its descending bassline and Ribeiro’s spectral vocals. But instead of building to a roar, it simply sustains, melting into the closing “Un jour... la mort”—a nearly half-hour piece that’s alternately ambient and explosive, earthy and weightless. 
For all its hallucinogenic qualities, Ribeiro’s work, as you dive deeper, proves to be less of an escape than a magnification: She zooms so deep into her psyche that all its turmoil appears as stillness. Unlike some cult acts, Ribeiro’s career has continued long after these quietly influential albums. Among her later recordings are faithful covers of Edith Piaf’s songbook: music that, even at its most traditional, Ribeiro can’t help but scour for its latent mayhem. Listening back to her early work, you can hear her challenging herself to find the darkness within traditionally beautiful sounds—the horror that’s always on the other side of awe. “Calm is not of this world,” she commands in “Dingue.” “What’s the point of being calm? I want to go crazy.” It’s the legacy she created, a mantra for the legions of disquieted minds who heard themselves in her voice and howled along.
Sam Sodomsky / Pitchfork

Annette Peacock ‎– I'm The One (1972)

Style: Blues Rock, Avantgarde, Experimental
Format: CD, Vinyl
label: Future Days Recordings, Light In The Attic, RCA Victor

Tracklist:
A1.   I'm The One
A2.   7 Days
A3.   Pony
A4.   Been & Gone
B1.   Blood
B2.   One Way
B3.   Love Me Tender
B4.   Gesture Without Plot
B5.   Did You Hear Me Mommy?

Credits:
Bass – Glen Moore, Stu Woods
Drums – Laurence Cook, Rick Morotta
Guitar – Tom Cosgrove
Organ – Michael Garson
Percussion – Airto Moreira, Barry Altschul, Domun Romao, Orestes Vilato
Piano – Apache Bley, Michael Garson
Synthesizer, Piano – Paul Bley
Tenor Saxophone – Michael Moss
Producer – Annette Peacock, Bob Ringe
Written-By – Annette Peacock, Bob Ringe, Vera Matson
Vocals, Piano, Electric Piano, Synthesizer, Vibraphone, Composed By, Arranged By  – Annette Peacock

Annette Peacock’s 1972 album I’m the One -- first released by RCA and now reissued by Light in the Attic's Future Days imprint -- is positively impressive. Peacock, one of the first people and maybe the first woman to own one of Robert Moog's famed synthesizers -- crafted an album that bridges with soul, pop, jazz, and a few other genres that still haven't been named. Her 1968 album with then-husband Paul Bley (as the Bley-Peacock Synthesizer Show), Revenge, showcased her imagination for and acumen with the instrument. I'm the One spotlights her abilities as a vocalist, composer, and innovator in a fashion that is seamless and still -- 40 years after this record's first appearance -- breathtaking. 
The record opens -- as so many records do -- with the title track and in this case it's a piece that calls to mind the austerity of Carla Bley and Michael Mantler's best work but Peacock's vision remains very much her own. The dissonant, majestic, and unsettling introduction gives way to a song that refuses to define itself as anything familiar to either the pop or casual -- or even sophisticated -- listener. More importantly, the technology at her disposal, including vocal treatments via the synthesizer, becomes so fully integrated in the playing and composition that it never calls unnecessary attention to itself. 
What does draw our attention is Peacock's unbelievably beautiful voice, displayed most elegantly on the ballad "7 Days" and the funky "Pony", a showcase for her distinct phrasing and equally distinct lyrics. "One Way" is an amalgamation of cabaret, music from outer space, New Orleans parlor tunes, horror film scores, torch songs, and a full-on soul meltdown, traveling the distance between Sun Ra and Dr. John and stopping to pick up Ike and Tina and Janis Joplin along the way. Her take on "Love Me Tender" also showcases her abilities as an interpreter as she renders the song remarkably new, her performance in touch with the sentiments of the original but also transcending and transforming those earlier intentions. (Mick Ronson borrowed Peacock's arrangement for his 1974 classic Slaughter on 10th Avenue.) 
I'm the One, let's not forget, emerged the same year as Lou Reed's Transformer and while it's certain that Reed and his co-producers David Bowie and Mick Ronson knew a thing or two about Brechtian presentation and melding high art with rock 'n' roll, there's plenty of evidence that Bowie respected Peacock's mind and music. He asked her to play on Aladdin Sane (she didn't) and offered to produce her next album (he didn't). He did, however, along with guitarist Reeves Gabrels, give "I'm the One" a nod in 1999 with "Something in the Air", evidence of both her staying power and his appreciation for genius. 
But who Peacock influenced and what they borrowed or stole doesn't matter when you're presented with the brilliance of this 37-minute opus, a record that wasn't as much ahead of its time as it was carving out its time, laying the groundwork for what was possible in a still-young decade and a year that still holds power over the heart and imagination of contemporary music. This is a perfect introduction to Peacock's music and, one hopes, a sign that more of her impressive works will be more widely available to an audience that needs to know this important vocalist/keyboardist/innovator/composer.
Jedd Beaudoin / PopMATTERS

Manduka ‎– Manduka (1972)

Genre: Latin, Folk, World, & Country
Format: CD, Vinyl, FLAC
Label: RCA Victor, ITR

Tracklist:
1.   Entra Y Sale
2.   Naranjita
3.   De La Tierra
4.   Patria Amada, Idolatrada, Salve Salve
5.   Oiticumana
6.   De Un Extranjero
7.   Qué Dirá El Santo Padre
8.   Brasil 1500

Credits
Bongos– Eduardo
Congas– Gabriel
Flute, Charango – Pato
Guitar – Baltazar, Manduka
Harmonica – Julio
Vocals – Manduka, Soledad Bravo


It may come as a surprise to many to know that the psychedelic rock and folk movement of the late 60s and early70s was not confined to the USA and Europe. In fact, the massive cultural upheavals of the 1960s had spread far and wide and by 1967-68, musicians, artists and writers across the world were exploring new ways to express themselves. This was no less the case in South America and it was during the late 60s and early 70s that an explosion of psych rock and folk produced amazing music that still inspires half a century later. The most well-known and celebrated South American movement from this era was Tropicália (also known as Tropicalismo), a Brazilian artistic movement that arose in the late 1960s that embraced music, poetry, visual arts and theatre. Musicians who were part of the movement include Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil, Os Mutantes, Gal Costa, and Tom Zé. But it wasn’t just Brazil that experienced a flowering of artistic freedom. Chile too had a movement called la Nueva Canción Chilena (Chilean New Song), a movement that captivated and elated a country during a period of social change. This was a powerful musical style that combined poetic lyrics with a haunting mix of traditional native wind and stringed instruments. It was born of and expressed the aspirations of a rising social class and political consciousness concerned with social justice and freedom. It was a time in which psychedelic rock and folk bands of the late ’60s and early ’70s like Los Blops, Los Jaivas, Aguaturbia, El Congreso, and Congregación mixed American and European rock with native Chilean and other South American forms. However, by 1973, the creative freedoms expressed by Chilean musicians, poets, writers and artists was abruptly curtailed when there was a violent CIA-backed military coup that overthrew the socialist government of Salvador Allende and installed the fascist dictator General Augusto Pinochet. The event caused many leading figures of the political opposition to be arrested, imprisoned and tortured. Thousands disappeared and were killed. In the context of such violent suppression and intimidation, many musicians sought asylum in neighbouring countries or even further afield, like the USA or Europe. One such musician and writer was Alexandre Manuel Thiago de Mello, otherwise known as Manduka. Manduka was born in 1952 in Brasil, the son of the journalist Pomona Politis and the poet Thiago de Mello, and nephew of the musician Gaudêncio Thiago de Mello. At the age of 18 he moved with his family to Chile, ostensibly to escape the increasingly oppressive atmosphere of the military government in Brazil. Just as many members and supporters of the New Chilean Song movement would soon go into exile after the 1973 coup, Manduka had escaped one dictatorship in Brazil to go and live in Chile, very soon to experience its own military crackdown. Manduka became involved with the Unidad Popular, a left-wing political alliance in Chile that stood behind the successful candidacy of Salvador Allende in the 1970 Chilean presidential election. During this time, Manduka also established close ties with important Chilean artists and began to foster interesting musical ideas, mixing his Brazilian heritage with the Chilean culture he found himself rapidly absorbing. In 1971, Manduka was still only nineteen years old and he was already a leading figure in the local left intelligentsia (his father was very close to notable figures such as Pablo Neruda and Violeta Parra, a musician who set the foundation for Nueva Canción Chilena) and was close to other exiled Brazilians, particularly the singer-songwriter Geraldo Vandré. It was with Vandré that Manduka co-wrote his first songs, quickly making a name for himself with ‘Patria Amada Idolatrada Salve Salve’, sung by Venezuelan singer Soledad Bravo, winning a prize at the 1972 Festival of Aguadulce, held in Peru. Upon his return to Chile, Manduka received an offer from Julio Numhauser to record a record. Numhauser was a key member of the Nueva Canción Chilena movement and founder member of the influential folk music groups Quilapayún. He was also artistic director of the IRT label and the result was an LP composed almost entirely by Manduka, with songs and improvisations that, somewhat inevitably, alluded to exile, Brazilian history and his own encounters with Chilean culture. The resulting album, 'Manduka’ was released in 1972 and featured vocalist Soledad Bravo along with contributions from some of the leading progressive folk and rock musicians in Chile at the time including Numhauser himself, Patricio Castillo (a close friend and creative partner of political activist, poet and singer Victor Jara), Baltasar Villaseca of leading Chilean psych folkrock group Congregación, and the brothers Gabriel and Eduardo Parra, from popular folk rock group Los Jaivas. The album is a wonderfully fresh and exciting collection of sounds that fizz with energy and hope; one minute a lilting folk ballad, the next an up tempo foot stomping attack on the acoustic guitar. It is the sound of a creative mind at the centre of a flourishing artistic movement just months away from being crushed. After the coup in September 1973, many of the leading figures in the Chilean music scene fled for their lives. Those that stayed payed a heavy price. An associate of Manduka, Victor Jara, was a key figure in the Nueva Canción Chilena movement. Soon after the coup, he was arrested and tortured. The guards smashed his hands and fingers, and then mocked him by asking him to play the guitar. He was then killed with a bullet to the head, and his corpse riddled with more than 40 bullets wounds. His body was put on display at a sports stadium as a warning then thrown out on the street of a Santiago shantytown. The stark contrast between the themes of his songs— love, peace, and social justice—and the brutal way in which he was murdered transformed Jara into a potent symbol of struggle for human rights and justice for those murdered during the Pinochet regime. This was the political context in which Manduka found himself and he had no choice but to flee to Argentina with members of Los Jaivas. In the years that followed, Manduka would continue to wander the world, living and working in Venezuela, Germany, France, Spain and Mexico, publishing records and books, scoring films, and collaborating with artists such as Naná Vasconcelos and Pablo Milanés. Manduka returned to Brazil in 1988 where he remained until his death on October 17, 2004, due to cardiovascular complications. 
Bandcamp