Despite the eclectic repertoire, Souza and her excellent group of musicians keep it real with regard to the bossa nova sound. There is a great deal of restraint in these performances, which might read as flat to listeners who don’t cozy up to their speakers or listen in the intimate format of stereo or iPod headphones.

“Everything comes and goes/marked by lovers and styles of clothes” goes the first line of Joni Mitchell’s “Down to You,” the opening track on Luciana Souza’s newest CD. That might be said of the venerable musical form known as bosa nova, which originated in Brazil some fifty years ago. Souza’s parents were part of the original wave of bossa nova composers and performers, and this album is both a tribute to that original bossa explosion as well as a meditiation on the emotional twists and turns of matters of the heart.

“Down to You” makes it apparent that Souza is serious about creating a real bossa nova experience, not just tacking on some bossa rhythms beneath pop songs. The song unfolds slowly and languidly, and Chris Potter’s tenor solo at around two minutes in is light, but uses the upper register of the instrument much more than Stan Getz on his landmark recordings with Joao Gilberto. For her part, Souza mimics some of Mitchell’s phrasing (it’s very hard not to on Mitchell’s songs, so much of a piece are her compositions and her renditions of them), but manages to put her own stamp on the piece.

Luciana is joined by James Taylor on his song “Never Die Young.” “When I was growing up I listened to a lot of American music” Souza has said. “I’ve always wanted to do a record of the music I grew up singing that wasn’t Brazilian.” Despite the eclectic repertoire, Souza and her excellent group of musicians keep it real with regard to the bossa nova sound. There is a great deal of restraint in these performances, which might read as flat to listeners who don’t cozy up to their speakers or listen in the intimate format of stereo or iPod headphones. To those willing to listen to Souza’s intimate performance, there is much to treasure here, both vocally and musically. There are no lengthy solos, most being taken by pianist Edward Simon or Potter; guitarist Romero Lumbabo, who has also recorded with Chilean singer Claudia Acuna, doesn’t solo at all. Yet within these constraints, the group demonstrates that small, subtle gestures can be as effective as more dramatic statements.

Standout performances include Elliott Smith’s “Satelitte,” a song whose unusual structure makes it even more of a challenge to fit into a bossa format, and Brian Wilson’s hymn-like “God Only Knows,” which loses its air of desperation and takes on a sense of tranquility in Souza’s hands.

Souza concludes with a performance of Jobim’s bossa nova zen sermon “Waters of March,” a song with poetic lyrics that depends on the performer’s ability to phrase the lyrics in such a way as to illustrate their meaning, a test that Souza passes with flying colors. The New Bossa Nova may well help Luciana Souza to break through to a more mainstream American audience. If so, it will be well deserved as she’ll have done so without significantly altering her approach to music.