| The American Bossa craze started
in 1962, prior to the arrival of the Beatles in the U.S. and
the eternal transformation of pop music that resulted. It was
seen by many as a last-ditch effort by jazz to remain within
the commercial framework of American popular music, from which
it had been receding since the end of World War II. Bossa Nova
is remembered by most, if at all, as an urban, sophisticated
sound that was not quite jazz and not quite pop music, the sound
of bachelor pads with expensive hi-fi equipment and bars where
jet-set bachelors and bachelorettes drank martinis against an
op-art background. In short, boss nova music has been resigned
to the dustbin of retro kitsch otherwise known as lounge music.
To Brazilians, the bossa nova has a very different meaning
and place in the country's history. The late 60s and early
50s were a time of great optimism in Brazil. The country had
a democratically elected president, Juscelino Kubitschek,
whose motto was "fifty years of development in five."
The architecturally futuristic city of Brasilia was being
built, the arts were flourishing, and the nation had entered
the world auto industry. Brazilians saw that their country
was well on the way to becoming a developed nation and were
ready for the fresh sounds that boss provided. Unfortunately,
neither bossa nor democracy lasted; by the time Americans
were snapping up copies of the single "Girl From Ipanema",
the Brazilians had moved on.
Thievery Corporation's Rob Garza and Eric Hilton are admirers
of Brazilian music as well as sounds that most listeners would
only consider for their kitsch value. The two met (and DJ
at) the Eighteenth Street Lounge in Washington, D.C., and
the music on Sounds From the Verve Hi-Fi (the title is a play
on their own album Sounds From the Thievery Hi-Fi) is just
the type of thing you might hear in this laid-back venue.
To be fair, not everything here is Brazilian or bossa-Verve's
considerable back-catalog of including other Latin jazz styles,
hard bop, and some psychedelic psuedo-Indian tracks.
The disc opens with "Menina Flor" from Luis Bonfa
and Stan Getz's Jazz Samba Encore! album. This venture
into merging the rhythms of Brazilian music with the muted
sound and improvisations of cool jazz was recorded and released
more than a year before Getz's better known (and better selling)
collaboration with Joao Gilberto, Antonio Carlos Jobim, and
Astrud Gilberto on Getz/Gilberto, yet it sounds quite
similar. The oft-underrated Sergio Mendes & Brazil '66
weigh in with "Chove Chuve", a song that Rob often
includes in his DJ sets. It demonstrates the classic Mendes
formula as well as any track could, with its muted but infectious
rhythm, exotic touches (courtesy of some harpsichord-cum-sitar
keyboards) and soulful female vocals.
Speaking of female vocalists, the royalty of Brazilian music
is represented here, with contributions from Mary Toledo,
Elis Regina, and the darling of the bossa craze, Astrud Gilberto.
Astrud's contribution is the startlingly weird "Light
My Fire" from her album September 17, 1969. The
album is hard to find and has yet to be issued on CD, so this
is a rare opportunity to hear her singing something other
than the bossa tracks she is best known for. It's pretty clear
that this version was designed to appeal not to the scores
of kids now listening to The Doors, but rather to their beleaguered
parents. The "SpinningWheel"-style horn arrangements
are corny in the extreme, and Astrud comes across a bit like
Shonen Knife on this, but the drums, which are pretty far
forward in the mix, save it from being total kitsch. The end
result is a little sad-cut adrift from her composer husband
(who she divorced not too long after the release of the "Girl
From Ipanema" single) and her roots in the Brazilian
music world, what could she do but perform the American hits
of the day? Still, it's hard to resist listening to this track
again and again.
Other standout tracks include Elis Regina's "Bala Com
Bala", organist Walter Wanderley's "Batucada",
Latin bandleader Cal Tjader's "Cuchy Frito Man"
as well as his collaboration with Lalo Schifrin on "The
Fakir". My only real complaint is that the collection
ends on a weak note with The Jazz Renegades' rendition of
"Do It The Hard Way". The group was led by Steve
White, who is probably best remembered as the drummer from
Paul Weller's Style Council. The track is lame white-guy jazz
and points up the fact that the previous tracks are all done
by extremely talented musicians, arrangers, and composers
who were able to incorporate many new sounds and influences
into their music. Unlike the bachelor-pad and ultra-lounge
compilations making the rounds these days, this collection
is one you'll want to listen to long after the novelty of
some of its tracks have worn off.
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