To prepare for the upcoming election in Brazil, I’ve been reading Rio de Janeiro: Extreme City by Luiz Eduardo Soares, a book that portrays a city far from the picture-postcard version and instead shows Rio to still be in the grip of its violent past. Likewise, this recent encounter between São Paulo rapper, performer, and visual artist Edgar and the Rio de Janeiro-based production duo Os Fita (Abel Duarte and Cainã Bomilcar) has resulted in the collaborative album Faz Frio Mas É Verão (“It’s Cold, But It’s Summer”), an electrifying head-on collision between rap and left-field club electronics, spanning jungle, UK garage, dub, jersey club, gabba and, of course, baile funk. Faz Frio Mas É Verão reframes Rio de Janeiro as the symbolic backdrop for a tropical dystopia. The city’s imagery of sand, sweltering heat, sensuality and hedonism, is constantly at odds with its innate coldness, alienation and emotional collapse. The album constructs an intense, ultra-modern portrait of Brazil’s most famous metropolis, where irony, tension, desire, violence and euphoria coexist in a permanent state of excess and instability. Musically, the project distorts, fragments and rearranges Edgar’s flows amidst buzzing interference and hyper-kinetic electronics that subvert the traditional logic of pop structures. It’s another genre-defying release from friends of Sounds & Colours, Outra Música, which is quickly building up an intriguing catalogue. I spoke with Edgar along with Os Fita about the new album.

Sounds & Colours: How did this collaboration come about?

Edgar: The project began precisely with a collaboration with rappers from Serbia; I was there doing an artistic residency. That’s when Os Fita came together for the first time, we’d already performed at festivals across Brazil, each with our own solo projects, but this was the first time we collaborated. In 2024, while producing an album called Universidade Favela, we started working together again on tracks, one of which was selected for the album. Since the production process is always a mix of madness and abundance, it inevitably leads to different paths to follow. That’s how it begins: observing, gathering and reorganizing the world around us.

S&C: The title of the album is an interesting concept, what’s the meaning behind it?

Edgar: “It’s Cold, But It’s Summer” is an ode to Rio de Janeiro, the marvelous city that remains beautiful and inspiring even amid architectural ruins and political upheaval. One of Brazil’s most enchanting and unique cities, it has the potential to become an autonomous state due to its political influence and military might. The controversy that permeates the city also permeates its citizens and is becoming an integral part of our culture; no two Brazilians are alike, and even less so the Cariocas [those born in Rio de Janeiro], an ambiguous phrase that illustrates the city’s many layers: even with a warm heart, one’s hands remain cold. Despite difficulties accessing healthcare and education, drugs and weapons are readily available; living in a favela facing the sea, in direct contrast to a luxury condominium. Feeling cold in the middle of summer is a subversive nuance that attempts to show that not everything is as it seems.

S&C: You are originally from Guarulhos, a satellite city of São Paulo; how does it compare with Rio de Janeiro?

Edgar: I was born in Guarulhos, but I left when I was 15 and went to Bahia. In 2021, I began living in Rio de Janeiro; and I returned to São Paulo in 2024, and have been splitting my time between Guarulhos and Rio de Janeiro ever since. 

Rio de Janeiro is so unique that it culturally influences the behaviour, speech, gait, hairstyles and clothing of people from the outskirts of other states. There’s an invisible bridge we call the Rio-São Paulo bridge; we’re completely different from one another, even when we try to make the same musical genre. This album is more of a tool for understanding the different layers and multiple facets that the people of Rio de Janeiro carry in their hearts or in the form of voices in their heads. It is simply a dystopian interpretation with a specific focus on the contrast between the outskirts and the city centre, which transforms into dynamic and satirical poetry about a country that lives Carnival out of season.

S&C: The title track could almost be a commercial tune, yet you “spoil” (or enhance) it by ending it with distorted gabba. What were the ideas behind that?

Abel Duarte (Os Fita): I don’t really like the idea of calling it “commercial,” because I think it’s far from being that. I believe the production and arrangement try to capture the imagery of contradiction, duality, opposition and contrast that the lyrics evoke.

The lyrics open with lines about an idyllic landscape, a view of the sea, nature, and then, immediately after, the next line shatters that vibe with the image of a character holding a gun at the top of the hill. Beyond the lyrics, the song’s structure itself plays with these codes and helps build that meaning, that feeling. In other words, while the first half is more beautiful and colder, featuring the beauty of Ana [Frango Elétrico]’s voice and a more melodic, sung chorus, it all explodes in the second half into an instrumental, somewhat gabba section. It’s a much hotter, more aggressive part where Kiko [Dinucci]’s distorted guitars kick in with full force. That section represents the heat, the chaos of a summer under a 50-degree sun. I think the musical arrangement attempts to structurally translate the ideas of the lyrics: it’s cold but it’s summer, the little boat at sea, the ipê tree, and the .38 calibre in hand.

S&C: There’s a heavyweight list of collaborators, and many familiar faces to the pages of Sounds and Colours: Ana Frango Elétrico, Jup do Bairro, Kiko Dinucci, Crizin da Z.O. and Tantão (of Black Future). What did these collaborators bring?

AD: First of all, I want to talk about the privilege we had in being able to collaborate with these incredible artists. Obviously, they are artists whose work we follow and admire deeply—we’re genuinely huge fans. I feel like each of them fits like a glove on their respective tracks and really helped shape the album as a whole.

Early on in the album’s process, as we started exploring different vocal timbres and processing for Edgar, we realized this would be a record where we wanted a lot of different voices to appear. 

Crizin [da Z.O.] was the first one to record. We follow his work a lot, and we move in similar circles. Right from the start, the album took on shapes and themes that heavily cross over with his work. So naturally, we thought of him and invited him to the track. He sent back these absurd lyrics, full of crazy yet perfectly relevant imagery, so much so that the track ended up being named after one of his lines: “Casacão e bermudinha” (Big coat and little shorts).

For “Bonde Maconha Dinheiro”, we wanted to bring a party energy, but with an irreverent, mocking vibe, and Jup [do Bairro] came to mind immediately. Edgar already has a partnership and friendship with Jup, and we (Os Fita) had always talked with her about doing something together. So the timing was perfect for us to join forces. She brought a badass energy to the track and led the way for us to finish the production.

When Edgar recorded the chorus for “Popó Matou Bambam”, which goes “Sun, I need more sun…”, we had just finished recording an improv session with Tantão [from Black Future], where he had spent hours singing about the sun. We were blown away by the cosmic connection of the two of them talking about the sun in the same week, in separate recording sessions. So we didn’t have a choice; we had to combine both sets of lyrics into a single track.

On “Faz Frio Mas é Verão”, when we started recording the song, we thought a softer voice would fit the chorus melody perfectly, but it was also important that this voice brought a sense of strangeness. Ana Frango Elétrico came to mind instantly, and I think they did it brilliantly. They brought a strange beauty to that chorus, something both dense and simple. It worked wonderfully as a duet with Edgar; their vocal timbres matched perfectly.

Finally, Kiko Dinucci came into the picture exactly when we decided the song’s arrangement needed to explode into an aggressive end. We wanted a guitar to drive that explosion and create that contrast with the first half of the song. Enter Kiko, who is a guy we admire so much, a genius of our music scene who has a highly original language on the guitar. It dialogues with punk but has a very groovy, deeply Brazilian characteristic, which fits perfectly with the track.

S&C: Which track do you think has a particularly interesting production story? 

Cainã Bomilcar (Os Fita): I’ll talk about “Engenheiros do Apocalipse.” This is the only track on the record that came out of a provocation from Edgar, when he suggested a specific sample. It was the first song we produced for the album.

The song started as a trap-funk track, with an aggressive tuim – that sharp, synth sound – which led Edgar to write in a very direct and brutal way about the tensions he was seeing and experiencing in Rio. When he showed us the lyrics, we recorded them over a beat with a slower, more spacious feel, but to us, that beat simply couldn’t match the impact of the lyrics.

We kept that original beat for the final section of the track, when he describes an explicit sex scene taking place on the streets of the city. It’s a more humorous section of the song, but he continues to throw out these acidic verses, criticizing big tech companies and their role in the escalation of the climate crisis. For the rest of the track, though, we decided to double the tempo and create what comes closest to a jungle track on the album, with lots of sharp cuts and rhythmic changes designed to emphasize the lyrics. And I think all of those developments that happened through our dialogue with him are what ultimately gave the record its identity.

S&C: Talk about the different characters that can be found in Rio portrayed in the album.

CB: These characters are present throughout the entire album, whether they are created through Edgar’s writing and performance as an MC, or through processing and manipulation during post-production.

There’s the “playboy” who thinks he’s “from the ghetto”, trying to present himself as someone from the streets, and plays with tools like Auto-Tune to appropriate the aesthetics and fashion of the favelas in an attempt to distance himself from his own reality. Also there’s the young delinquent who uses voice processing to avoid being recognized, etc. Edgar himself shifts away from other phases of his career when he sings the lines “ódio na veia e no olhar, fica dificil de acreditar que esse é o mesmo, mesmo Edgar” (hatred in his veins and in his eyes, It’s hard to believe you’re hearing the same Edgar) in the song “Me Deixa Em Paz”.

Ultimately, I think that if we explained all of these characters in detail, the album would lose a lot of its mystery, fun and richness. I think it’s more interesting to let listeners dive deeper into the many different lyrical personas that inhabit the record.

You can listen to the album below and a vinyl edition is scheduled for December 19th:

(Photo of Edgar & Os Fita courtesy of Marcelo Mudou.)

It’s a jam-packed programme this month, with mambo, jazz, salsa, rock, even a bit of classical music from Brazil, not to mention some interesting new sounds from Peru and a tribute album from Japan. Where on earth should I start? At the beginning, stupid. Yes, but…

Fernando Noronha: Ain’t No Hiding From The Blues (Worldhaus Music)

In the beginning… was the blues. It’s not often, though, that you get to hear it played by a Brazilian vocalist and guitarist. It’s his 9th record and the culmination of four years of writing and recording, marking 30 years since he formed his band Black Soul in Porto Alegre, Brazil, and built a career that’s taken him across stages in North America, South America and Europe alongside legends like B.B. King and Chuck Berry. And talking of legends, his guitar can snarl like Magic Sam’s, reverberate like Ry Cooder’s (when he switches to acoustic) and chill you to the bone like Albert Collins’. There’s a blistering version of Muddy Waters’ “Hoochie Coochie Man” that features some terrific harp blowing by Kim Wilson of The Fabulous Thunderbirds. Highly recommended for blues fans the world over.

Dos Santos: Es Amor (Otherly Love)

This one seems to have been with me for months; in fact, it came out at the back end of August – which just goes to show… something. It’s the Chicago-based quintet’s fifth album, their first since 2021’s City of Mirrors. Led by the never-less-than-interesting Alex E. Chávez and powered by one of my favourite drummers, the Panamanian Daniel Villarreal, Dos Santos are one of those bands you can’t classify, with their own unique sound: a blend of cumbia, son jarocho, psychedelic rock, jazz and Afro-Cuban percussion – and plenty more during the 10 new songs here. Chávez suggests that “we wanted to make a record that sounds like us live – raw, intense.” The title track alone suggests that they succeeded.

Buena Vista Social Club: Buena Vista Social Club (World Circuit)

There’s nothing really that I can say about this that hasn’t already been said, other than to announce that the eminent World Circuit label has issued a very pukka-looking special edition double LP to celebrate the 30th anniversary of this global phenomenon. Hurry, hurry, hurry, while stocks last!

Cheo Feliciano: Cheo (Craft Latino)

And talking of anniversaries… Craft Latino are past-masters when it comes to reissuing landmark albums from Fania and other Nuyorican labels from the golden age of salsa. This one is probably my pick of a recent bunch that includes Willie Colón and Héctor Lavoe‘s Cosa Nuestra, Héctor Lavoe‘s ¡Que Sentimiento!, Roberto Roena y su Apollo Sound’s Lucky 7 and Chamaco Ramírez‘s rather splendid Alive and Kicking, which has been out of print for 45 years. What’s so special about Cheo? Maybe it’s the singer’s honey-rich baritone voice, or the all-star supporting combo, with Larry Harlow on piano and Louie Ramirez on vibes combining to create a sound that reminds me of George Shearing’s Latin quintets, or maybe it’s simply the easy, laid-back atmosphere that bathes you in a good, good feeling.

Hermanos Gutiérrez: Los Ojos del Cóndor (Easy Eye Sound)

It would take a hard person to please not to experience that same good feeling when listening to the Swiss-Ecuadorian guitar-twanging brothers. On this their seventh album (already!?), they trade their customary desert scenery and atmosphere (which often for me conjures up the Harry Dean Stanton character striding purposefully across the sun-blasted terrain of Paris, Texas) for that of the high Andes. Alejandro’s indigenous charango guitar appears occasionally in the mix of intertwining electric, acoustic and lap steel guitars to help conjure up a big South American bird gliding effortlessly around some rarefied mountain scenery.

Gustavo Virissimo: Reflexos (Self-released)

And here’s another guitar-wielding hombre from down south. It’s the Brazilian artist’s self-produced debut album, combining contemporary jazz (sometimes with a Hermeto Pascoal and an Itibere Zwarg twist) and the rhythmic richness we associate with the music of Brazil. The eight numbers move between instrumental pieces and vocal numbers with either lyrics or with wordless scatting in support of the leader’s guitar. Most were recorded (in Porto Alegre, where Virissimo is based) in two to six takes, eschewing technical perfection for the loose improvisational feel of musical conversation. At just 24, the guitarist could have a long career ahead of him and it’ll be intriguing to see where he goes from here.

Orchestra Mambo International: ¡Apúntalo! (Loft Recordings)

My record of the moment – from a 14-piece international and intergenerational outfit whose origins can be traced to West Yorkshire. Trombonist and co-songwriter Jonny Enright grew up with brass bands in Halifax, while DJ and all-round Latin obsessive Lubi Jovanovic hails from Bradford. Knowing both cities as I do, it’s hard to make the leap involved when you hear the authentic, joyful music they produce, which transports you to an era when the orchestras of Machito, Tito Puente and other giants were kicking up a storm at venues like the Palladium. It’s full-on mambo madness that doesn’t let up for a moment.

Mambo Legends Orchestra: No Hay Que Hablar ‘NUFF SAID! (Truth Revolution Recording Collective)

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Atlantic, musicians who spent years playing with the likes of Machito, Tito Puente and Tito Rodriguez were resurrecting another mambo-tastic big band. Co-led by timbalero, arranger and musical director Jose Madera, saxophonist and flautist Mitch Frohman, and the late bongo master John “Dandy” Rodriguez, the orchestra is an assembly of longtime friends and collaborators to celebrate both the enduring artistry of the Palladium generation and the younger musicians who continue to carry the language forward. With guests like the late-lamented Eddie Palmieri (on the opening “Sabroso Guaguancó”), trombonist Jimmy Bosch (on “El Trabajador”) and alto-saxophonist Bobby Porcelli, their first album in 15 years is indeed a rousing celebration of an era and a genre that continues to inspire dancers around the globe.

Frederico 7: Brasileirôu (Lion’s Lair Records)

Described as “an album of Brazilian soul, rhythm and lived poetry”, the new release by the expatriate Brazilian artist based in Austin, Texas, follows his previous Exótico Americano, which created quite a media stir. Sonia McLaughlin, singer and leader of Nossas Novas, had this to say about Frederico 7’s dozen new numbers: “The songs are sad and joyful; mystical and down to earth… filled with nuance and spirit.” Listening to these highly individual, variegated numbers (written over nearly two decades apparently) makes me wonder where he’s been during my own last two decades or so. Produced by the esteemed Beto Martinez and recorded between Austin and Brazil, Brasileirôu is something to get your teeth into (so to speak).

Oriente Trio: Canto (Self-released)

Back to Peru, Lima in fact, for a project dedicated to exploring Peruvian tropical music through the lens of a conventional jazz line-up: guitar, double bass and drums. Inspired by bands of the late ’60s and early ’70s, the trio found it a challenge and an opportunity to adapt that repertoire to their smaller format. It seems to me they’ve succeeded in creating something discreetly special with this their third album.

Marcelo Quintanilha: Classica in Versi (YB Music)

So then… here’s that classical album I promised you. It’s not quite as simple as that – as you might divine from the label it’s released on, the oft-cutting-edge YB Music. It’s the singer, composer and producer’s 13th album and it reimagines some of the world’s most celebrated classical melodies as contemporary songs. It was originally conceived in Portuguese, but the album actually ended up presenting nine of the songs in Italian, one in French and one in Spanish. Mozart, Bach, Beethoven and Debussy are but four of the European big-hitters represented and the songs are performed by an ensemble led by the singer on acoustic guitars with occasional guest appearances by the likes of Mafalda Minnozzi and Tony Canto. It’s an ambitious idea, but it manages to create a convincing bridge between classical repertoire and popular song. Here’s a representative track to test the water…

Sexteto Tropical: Melao y Guaguancó (El Palmas Music)

To Venezuela, and make it snappy. Which is what this sextet specialised in: salsa with a cymbal snap, guitar crackle and cowbell pop. Originally released on Discos Efi and now reissued by the Barcelona-based label, this slice of late ’60s/early ’70s is raw and vibrant. Boogaloos, guaguancós and a “Descarga Tropical” jam to conclude proceedings collide with little let-up and no studio frills. Strange, though. Looking at the cover, you’d swear the sexteto was a septeto.

Marcelo Galter: Marcelo Galter investiga a beleza sem fim de Dorival Caymmi (Rocinante)

The Rocinante label rarely disappoints – and this release is a revelation. Occasionally, a new album hits me on the head like a rolled-up pair of thick winter socks and makes me think, Aha! Something special going on here. As the title suggests, the Bahian pianist and composer investigates the endless beauty of Dorival Caymmi, but not in the way of a conventional tribute, more a contemporary quest to explore the great composer’s spirit of invention. As Galter himself puts it, “I want to invite people to dive into the waters of Bahia and discover what the title already announces: that the beauty in Caymmi is, indeed, infinite.” This is no mere piano-led jazz album – Galter adds his voice, indigenous instruments, Guinea-Bissau musician Mû Mbana’s voice and Fulani flute and some stunning Afro-Brazilian percussion to the mix – but something truly individual that demands to be heard. This “re-imagination” of “O Vento” is just one of many highlights across the eight numbers.

José Alberto “El Ruiseñor”: BuenAventura (Tumi Music)

Here’s another label that rarely disappoints. Tumi’s latest dive into the musical heritage of Cuba brings us the fourth album for the Bath-based label by the larger-than-life, big-hearted vocalist. He and his band of Cuban and Mexican alumni serve up son and salsa with a powerful sense of romantic yearning. Whether singing solo or in duets with guests like Kenia Sánchez or El Haragan y Cia, the human voice comes out on top throughout these ten classy numbers.

Davisito Navarro: Davisito + El Negro Live from New Orleans (Self-released?)

While on a Cuban trajectory… No relation to “Fat Girl”, the legendary short-lived bebop trumpeter “Fats” Navarro, Davisito was born in Manzanillo, Cuba, but has made his home in the Crescent City since 2023, where apparently there is a burgeoning Cuban emigré scene. His debut album captures him live in the company of his own quintet augmented by his fellow Cuban, the splendid drummer and percussionist Horacio “El Negro” Hernandez. Much of it is more straight jazz than the Latin variety, but the playing is first class throughout the 10 mainly long numbers and the album announces a genuine new talent. Here’s the band’s take on a composition by one of New Orleans’ top drummers, the Wynton Marsalis alumnus, Herlin Riley.

Bajune Tobeta: Sergio Mendes Tribute (CROIX JAM)

That’s probably quite enough jazz for one helping, so here’s the first of a couple more tribute albums. This one, under the aegis of the Tokyo-based producer, Bajune Tobeta, commemorates the second anniversary of the beloved Brazilian global star’s passing. According to Tobeta, “This project began with a single wish: to hear Gracinha [Leporace, Mendes’ widow and ex-musical partner] sing ‘Mas Que Nada’ once more.” She does and it is probably one of the stand-outs among the 11 numbers associated with Mendes. The current single is a version of Jobim’s “Inutil Paisagem” that features Paula Morelenbaum, one third of the Morelenbaum/Ryuichi Sakamoto partnership responsible for 2001’s glorious Casa, itself a tribute to Antonio Carlos Jobim.

Various Artists: Arnaldo Baptista 7.8 – Canções Inesquecíveis Revisitadas (Café8 Music)

The second tribute is an extraordinary one in many ways. For a start, it celebrates the 78th birthday of Arnaldo Baptista, a founding member of Os Mutantes. Secondly, it takes a very unusual form: 56 tracks by over 60 artists spread over four compilations, Cobre, Sunny, Pink and Jeans. You’ll forgive me for not having listened to all of them, but this is clearly an epic – like one of those dance marathons of the Depression depicted in the film They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? The compilations focus on Baptista’s post-Mutantes solo period that took off in 1974 with the release of the celebrated Loki? Many of the contributing artists are new names to me, but I recognise the likes of Rod Krieger, Hyldon and the now venerable Sandra Sá. No doubt some of the others have featured in one or more of Andy Cumming’s On The Margins column. Here’s a taster of what to expect…

Marina Mole: Azucrim (Café8 Music)

Marina Mole is just one of the myriad artists involved in the Arnaldo Baptista project and it just so happens that she released an album on the same label during September. It is in itself a little extraordinary, sounding at times to my ears like a cross between Patti Smith and the earliest incarnation of Siouxsee and the Banshees. It’s a concept album, but not like one of those prog-rock creations back in the day. It’s all about an angel created by the artist herself who must descend to earth to live as a human. Here’s the single, focus track or whatever you want to call it. Love the song, love the video, love the schtick.

Maglore: Fluxo Natural (LOCO Records)

We’re still in Brazil – it’s hard to get out sometimes – and it’s time for a bit of classy pop-rock. They’ve been around since 2009 and it’s their sixth album, so the group has got history. Committed to the sanctity of the song, the four-piece unit mix MPB, rock, folk and an indie aesthetic to create something resembling a contemporary 1980s sound. Given their classic guitar, keyboards, bass and drums line-up, there are no real surprises, but they do what they do very well.

Y La Bamba: Ojos Del Sol (self-released?)

Happy 10-year anniversary to Y La Bamba for an album described by KEXP as “a work of poetry, memory, and healing”. There’s a special new vinyl edition with an additional song (“Sin Tu Amor”) to celebrate the anniversary. The first generation Mexican-American producer and artist, Luz Elena Mendoza, is the creative force (and the extraordinary voice) behind Y La Bamba, who will be touring the U.S. this month with Hermanos Gutiérrez and Vanessa Zamora.

Jaime Chirif Watanabe: Garabatos (Buh Records)

More guitar music from Peru now, but this sure is different. For a start, it came out (in the back end of August) on cassette. I kept my cassette collection, but you don’t see too many in this format these days. It’s an album of nine electro-acoustic pieces built exclusively from improvised guitar recordings edited and generally transformed so that some sounds become totally unrecognisable. I rather like the minimalist approach; here’s a taster of what to expect. By the way, I picked up my double-deck Akai cassette recorder in Cash Converters for €15 and my old cassettes still sound as good as the day they were recorded. Just in case Garabatos inspires you to…

Maurilio: Flecha do Avesso (Frase Records)

Here’s the debut album from a new (to me, anyway) singer-songwriter based I believe in Bahia, along with his co-artistic director, Lívia Nery. It features some high profile contemporary names such as Juçara Marçal and harks back to the Afro-Brazilian music and MPB of a bygone era. It’ll take a few more listens for the songs to stick, but I like what I hear. Shades at times of Max de Castro.

Tipa Tipo: Arquetipas (Bit Rosie)

Peruvian yacht rock, anyone? Based on a cursory listen, I’m definitely going to put my hand up. Arquetipas is the band’s second album and it’s full of breezy melodies in a way that at times reminds me of the Rio-based Bala Desejo. Adele Fournet, who sings, plays keyboards, writes and co-produces, talks of feeling like “I’m walking around in a grayscale world, and I want a rainbow. That’s what we’re trying to do in Tipa Tipo.” Fournet and co-producer, songwriter, singer and guitarist Felipe Wurst met in Peru and then decamped to Brooklyn and thence Bloomington, Indiana. Drummer Jordan Leong Auber completes the trio, who released their debut Cintas in 2024 to understandable acclaim.

The Buena Vista Orchestra: Ayer, Hoy, Mañana (SSK Records)

No, I’m not duplicating an entry. This “Cuban music repertory ensemble” are about to embark on a mammoth tour of the U.S. – with Europe scheduled for 2027 – just to prove that they’re the real thing, even if the album does commence (a trifle suspiciously) with “Chan Chan”. It and the other seven numbers demonstrate an affinity more for the Afro-Cuban All Stars than the semi-mythical outfit from whom they take their name. Led by violinist Rolando Morejón Reyes, the Buena Vista Orchestra simply make great Cuban music.

Marcos Valle: Vento Sul (Vampisoul)

And finally… (and I thought I’d never type those words) no Nunca Tarde column would be complete without a reissue of an early Marcos Valle LP by Vampisoul. This one, dating from 1972, is arguably one of his finest, featuring as it does the glorious “Democústico” among other highlights. Like one of music’s truly greats, Valle had and has a propensity to regularly reinvent himself.

That’s it for another month or so. I’m off to have a lie-down, worn out by so many great releases. See you next time.

(Thanks to Martin Cohen for the photo of Mambo Legends Orchestra.)

Mauricio Takara is one of the most restless and inventive figures in contemporary Brazilian music. In the late 1990s Takara made his mark on the independent scene by founding the band Hurtmold. With the group, he helped define a sound that blended jazz and post-rock with the groove of Brazilian rhythms, becoming a touchstone for Brazilian instrumental music. Under the moniker M.Takara, he has produced a solo discography that serves as a true laboratory for experimentation. In his live shows, he splits his time between drums, vibraphone, samplers and mixers, creating sonic layers he defines as “Resilient Music” – a sound that adapts and transforms according to the environment and the people around him. This philosophy has led to collaborations with key figures from the American post-hardcore scene, such as Joe Lally and Brendan Canty (Fugazi).

Versatility is a key word to describe his work. This is the same musician who has collaborated with the favela rap of Sabotage, the delicate artistry of Vanessa da Mata, the powerful presence of Naná Vasconcelos, and the full-on assault of Rakta. Furthermore, he has built a strong connection with Chicago’s avant-garde scene, notably through the São Paulo Underground project alongside trumpeter Rob Mazurek.

This new release on the Desmonta label is at times reminiscent of the jazzier side of Hurtmold’s catalogue. “Prisma/loqueci” reminds me of On the Corner-period Miles Davis, a loose funk, a driving groove and horn blasts over the top. Not so much a soundalike, but it’s in the atmosphere and context of an open dialogue between jazz, hip-hop and the pulse of African percussion. He remains one of those rare artists who honours the past while shaping the future of Brazilian music. I spoke to Takara by email about this new release.

Sounds & Colours: How did this project come about and what was the initial inspiration to record Xaxim?

Mauricio Takara: For some time, I have been composing music heavily based on rhythmic cells, overlapping claves, time signatures, where all the key elements (rhythm, melody, harmony, and timbre) originate from the drums and percussion, sometimes incorporating electronic elements as well. In 2025, I began wanting to expand this concept into a more band-oriented format featuring a few melodic instruments, to introduce an element of improvisation, while still maintaining the essence of percussion as the foundation of the musical orchestration.

S&C: Why the title Xaxim, a plant native to the Mata Atlântica? 

MT: Actually, it came about because of the song of the same name, the melody of which was composed with the xaxado rhythm in mind. That’s where “Xaxim” came from. In the end, the rhythm changed a bit, but I kept the name because I think it’s a very beautiful word with a lovely rhythm.

S&C: There are two collaborators on this EP, Guizado and Esdras Oliveira. Who are they and why did you choose to play with them?

MT: I’ve known both of them for a long time. Guizado is a very active trumpeter in the São Paulo scene, and I’ve played with him on various projects over the past 20 years.

Esdras played a crucial role when I first started composing more percussion-only music. For a few years now, we’ve been developing a rhythm-focused practice and body of research together. He is a highly versatile and focused musician who brings a wealth of possibilities to a live line-up, and he was also instrumental in the making of this EP.

The initial idea was to propose a weekly practice session while I was in São Paulo, so we could exchange ideas and explore possibilities together. It went really well, eventually evolving into this EP and a live performance line-up.

S&C: A lot of recordings under your own name are more electronic and loop-based. What caused this move towards a jazz-based sound?

MT: It’s been a while since I slightly changed the way I use electronics in my work. Now, I try to use them more as a response to what I’m playing, rather than the other way around. But I think the essence remains very much the same.

S&C: I hear a southern African influence with a marimba-like sound in “Linha Reta” (and “Prisma”); is this deliberate? 

MT: It wasn’t intentional, but I’m constantly listening to and researching music from various places. As I mentioned in the previous question, this research, focused more on rhythmic composition, has had a very strong influence; it includes a lot of music from West Africa, Indonesia, and across Southeast Asia, as well as a great deal of Brazilian music.

S&C: You’ve been based in Berlin, yet this was recorded in São Paulo. What brought you back to Brazil to record?

MT: I come back to Brazil whenever I can. I think this work really took shape there largely because of the people involved, namely Guizado and Esdras.

I feel that this music has a certain simplicity and a highly repetitive rhythmic sound; it required that kind of intensive practice, involving a lot of personal interaction, to strike the right balance between precision and looseness. I think I tend to find that more in São Paulo, given the musical nature of the place and the fact that it’s where I grew up.

S&C: Has being in Berlin influenced your music making a lot? 

MT: Definitely. Berlin has an incredibly active music community, with people from all over the world, and it’s much more open than I imagined it would be before I went there. Being part of that has been very inspiring and motivating. Last year, I played with an Indonesian Gamelan group, which was also a very unique experience.

S&C: This is an EP, so are there plans for an album?

MT: There are two more songs from that same recording session that will be on a solo album featuring guest artists, which I’m going to release next year. But the idea is to keep composing and performing, and perhaps even expand the lineup a bit more.

S&C: Will you play any shows to promote this release?

MT: For now, only in Brazil. In December or January.

You can listen to Xaxim below:

I was saddened to read the news that Mighty Sparrow checked out on Sunday, 27th September after a short illness. Arguably the mightiest of all calypsonians died peacefully in New York aged 91 and surrounded by his family, always a “consummation devoutly to be wished”.

Born in Grenada, Slinger Francisco fled the nest with his mother for Trinidad and Tobago to re-join his father. He grew up in Laventille, a suburb of Port of Spain (granted an affectionate place in this household thanks to Taj Mahal’s version of pan-man Robert Greenidge’s “Salsa de Laventille“). He acquired his initial moniker, “Little Sparrow”, as a youthful performer who liked to move around when he sang – which prompted older performers to ask “Why don’t you just sing instead of moving around like a little sparrow?” He changed his stage name to the more boastful version deemed necessary perhaps to compete with the Lords of calypso. He won the first of his eight “Calypso King” titles in 1956 for his gently scurrilous song about prostitution, “Jean and Dinah”, which celebrated the departure of U.S. troops from the island and became an international hit. The rest as they say… He recorded countless albums, some in the early part of his career for RCA Victor, culminating in Live at 85!, recorded in Joe’s Pub in New York in 2020.

Perhaps Sparrow’s zenith in terms of his international fame and acclaim was the 1960s and ’70s and I can recommend the Strut label’s marvellous double CD compilation Sparrowmania! Wit, Wisdom & Soul from the King of Calypso 1962-1974. It contains many of his best-loved numbers including “Jook For Jook”, “Big Bamboo” and the deeply ironic “Sparrow Dead”. His calypso (and later soca) gem “Ten to One is Murder” was a reference to an incident in which Sparrow allegedly shot a man. If there was any truth in it, then the man’s wit and wisdom might be demonstrated by his embracing of Christianity and becoming a 7th Day Adventist in his final days before the demise of his soul. Let us salute “The Calypso King of the World”.

Welcome to autumn – and what a relief it is to say that after summer’s scorchio. Hopefully, normal service shall now be resumed; I shall endeavour to make these singles round-ups monthly, at least until I’m directed otherwise by my team of advisors.

Joyce Moreno: “Aldeia de Ogum”

Joyce and Tutti again. This one comes not from the Jazz Is Dead album of August, but from her new album for her trusty label, Far Out Recordings, which comes out at the end of next month. It’s a re-working of one of the stand-out tracks from her classic 1980 recording, Feminina. It’s become a bit of a club favourite in recent times and here Joyce & co. breathe new life into the song with a distinctive horn and reed arrangement by Nailor Proveta. Still well and truly gorgeous!

Owerá & Lozk: “Jaxy”

Here’s one I missed by awarding myself the month of August off (despite the urgent warnings of my advisors). It’s a collaboration between the indigenous Guarani artist Owerá and the Colombian producer, Lozk. The titular Jaxy is the moon, treated by the Guarani people as not just a planet but a living spiritual presence, the guardian of the night, protector of animals and children and messenger of dreams and love. The two have collaborated before, but as Lozk reveals “Jaxy is more than a musical collaboration—it is a cultural exchange that honours diversity while discovering shared connections through art and storytelling.”

Tavo Paez: “Sobrepensando”

My aversion to Autotune has been well documented, but this is quite a sweet song that seems to be about young love, and señor Paez sent me a nice e-mail – at least, I think it is. It’s in Spanish, but I can manage to deduce that this is the first single from his next album, Tu Playlist Favorita, which comes out at the end of the year. I hope the driver and the Lady in Lilac will be very happy together.

Ely Combo: “Tema de Shaft”

I do love a nice wacky version of the Isaac Hayes classic and while this slice of Mexican reggae doesn’t scale the same heights as Malik Adouane’s extraordinary interpretation, it certainly is one of Vampisoul’s craziest 45rpm reissues. The band was one of the first apparently to incorporate ska and reggae into their repertoire – in the early ’70s. The B-side is an equally bonkers reggae reinterpretation, this time of Charles Wright & the Watts 103rd St. Rhythm Band’s soul smash, “Express Yourself”.

Louie el Ser: “sex drugs reggaeton”

Another echo from the past, but of a very different genre. It’s a new collaboration with Marchante that takes the old cliché and re-purposes it for a pulsating Latin club. The publicist describes it as “a hypnotic late-night collision of reggaeton and electronic club music”, which says it all very succintly.

Allexa Nava: “To Nostalgia & Explorations”

The single by the Peruvian saxophonist, flautist and composer now based in London is really a three-piece suite – or an EP by any other name. It draws from both the music Allexa grew up with and what she listens to now. “It’s a mixture of my past and my future,” she suggests. “After reconnecting with the music I grew up with, but implementing elements of what I listen to every day and what has become my inspiration in writing as an adult.” Her alto sax melds deftly with acoustic guitar in this strikingly confident Afro-Peruvian opener that suggests why she’ll be headlining a show at the Elgar Rooms in the Royal Albert Hall on 22nd October.

André Ubilla: “Vientos de la Cordillera”

From a London-based Peruvian to a Chilean artist based in Berlin. It’s a single taken from his forthcoming fourth album, (Algunas) Formas de Amor, which marks the final chapter of his Prisma trilogy. While the video was filmed in the German Alps (by film-maker, Felipe Herrera), the song draws on the Chilean cordillera as a metaphor for memory, distance and heartbreak. There’s a suitable note of wistful yearning in this artist’s voice that makes for an affecting audio-visual experience.

Cosme: “No Tengo Duda (Versión Bolero)”

This Puerto Rican singer-songwriter had the interesting idea of releasing a new interpretation of one of the most personal songs on BRUJO, his debut album, to give it “a more mature touch”. Having listened to both, he succeeds in adding artistic gravitas to his reflections on his romantic partnership and a certainty that he had found the person he wanted to be with him for the rest of his life. And isn’t that lovely?

Zemmoa: “Mi Dolor Un Artiste”

The transgender Mexican artist’s fifth single from her album Un Abrazo came out a day before her exhibition at the Museo de Arte Transfemenino (Transfeminine Art Museum) in Mexico City. The single echoes the Mexican tradition of singing about pain in order to keep living after it – or at least to try. ZEMMOA: 20 Years of Fashion Victims, is an exhibition that brings together photographs, clothing, objects, archives and audiovisual material from a career spanning music, nightlife, fashion and digital culture. Zemmoa recalls how back then “the night was my first refuge. There, I could wear a miniskirt, dance, and be myself with a little more freedom than during the day. I never missed a party. Music came later, as a way to turn that refuge into a language.”

Leo Santi: “Cores No Jardim”

The Brazilian singer-songwriter is a devotee of Gilberto Gil and his debt to his hero and Tropicália in general is evident here in his first single – and incredibly his first-ever song – from a forthcoming debut from that estimable European label with a predilection for Brazilian artists, Ajabu! It was conceived and created on a 10-day holiday in Ubatuba, a coastal region in São Paulo. Santi has in fact been a musician and a producer for many years, but the single betrays what must have been a long-hidden talent for songwriting that bodes well for the album to come. It’s all about the colours he saw in a garden, “the details of everyday life that, when you stop to notice them, turn ordinary days into something worth singing about”. Quite so.

Mantena®: “Araújo”

I rather like this Brazilian group’s conceit of using the registered trademark symbol with their band name. I can’t, however, tell you a great deal about them or their brand of “chaotic samba rock” because the information I received is in Portuguese, but the single is quite original and it has a tongue-in-cheek quality that I like. They would appear to be a quintet from Belo Horizonte and this seems to be the first single from their first album, Samba Esquema Noia. Keep an eye out for them.

Karen y Los Remedios: “Ninfa”

Described as “a ballad with a trip hop sensibility”, I felt compelled to listen (having just watched an old Portishead DVD of the group in concert in New York). It’s the second single from Karen and the trio’s forthcoming new album, Bestiaria. And I guess that’s Karen herself acting the mythological figure of the water nymph somewhere perhaps in the Mexican jungle – if there’s anything left of it. The 12 tracks of the album, I’m told, present 12 such figures revealing different facets of a single universe. The single and the other tracks function “as a portal into stories where magic, nature, and human experience exist in a constant balance between light and shadow”. A long way from the aesthetic of Portishead perhaps, but if you like this, check out her new single “Curandera“, which is just out. (I know, I know…)

Ships of the Pharoahs: “Joys”

I would have featured the new EP from this London-based group, but it’s more like a long player, so I couldn’t justify the space in this particular slot. Even though it’s a bit late in the day, I’ll highlight instead just one of the numbers, which came out as a single around the beginning of August. “Joys” is a plural joy, and it spotlights clearly how bossa nova is a facet of the group’s infectious sound. The group is led by the producer Last Nubian, whose touch is light but sure. I particularly like Achanté’s breezy, understated vocal.

Mystérika, F.A.V. & Tino Amor: “La María”

It’s not every time we have something from Costa Rica, one of the world’s more intelligent nations, and certainly not a chunk of pumping Latin house crossed with electronic merengue. It’s a collaboration between the DJ and producer Mystérika and the experimental cumbia duo F.A.V. and Tino Amor that’s bound to have a club full of dancers waving their arms in the air like they just don’t care.

La Pirámide: “Pirámide”

Let’s draw the proceedings to a close with some weird and wacky experimental Mexican music from another era. This beguiling single comes courtesy of Light in the Attic and Discos Carbon. It’s taken from a compilation and a celebration of innovative Mexican musicians who merged electronic and indigenous instruments with an ambient, minimalist, jazz and New Age aesthetic. It’s entitled A LA ALTURA: VISIONARY MEXICAN MUSIC 1977-1999, and will be released in two volumes, the first of which arrives at the end of next month. If this is anything to go by, it’ll be something to look forward to.

It only remains for me and my advisors to wish you all a very happy and healthy autumn. Until we meet again…

Mambo has travelled a long way from the streets and clubs of New York and the Caribbean. These days, you can find it taking shape in West Yorkshire. Orchestra Mambo International grew out of a one-off Latin night in Manchester in 2022, but what began as a tribute to Tito Puente quickly became something much bigger: a multinational orchestra bringing together musicians from Cuba, Colombia, Brazil, Venezuela, Spain and the UK.

At the centre of it is Jonny Enright, a musician whose route into Latin music began with Yorkshire brass bands, classical training and a life-changing encounter with Manny Oquendo’s Conjunto Libre. Alongside DJ and record collector Lubi, Enright has spent the past few years turning that obsession into a living, breathing band. Their debut album, ¡Apúntalo!, is the result. It is deeply rooted in the history of mambo and New York salsa, but it is also unmistakably the work of musicians making something new in Yorkshire. We recently caught up with Jonny to get a full picture of this amazing project straight from its primary source:

Sounds and Colours: Let’s start from the beginning of the project. You and Lubi were driving along the A650 between Shipley and Bradford when the idea for Orchestra Mambo International began taking shape. What were those conversations actually like? And what made you think, “Right, we need to start a mambo orchestra”?

Jonny Enright: It began as a one-off project rather than something we had carefully planned. The Blues Kitchen in Manchester asked Lubi to put together a band for a Latin night in November 2022, and we decided to play the music of Tito Puente.

I already had some of the music from previous projects, so we assembled a great band, including my old friend Carlos “Pachanga” Peña on vocals. I think we were billed as something like “DJ Lubi’s Mambo Allstars”.

The Manchester gig was a real success, and we all loved it, so we followed it with a show at the Brudenell Social Club in Leeds, which sold out. What stood out was the mix of people in the audience: dancers, jazz heads, Latin music fans, younger people discovering the music for the first time, and people who simply enjoy quality live music.  Tito Puente’s music is so universal and welcoming, and the audience really responded to this.

It felt like the right time to make it a proper band. We wanted a name that reflected the make-up of the group, with musicians from Cuba, Venezuela, Brazil, Colombia, Spain and the UK, so we called it Orchestra Mambo International.

The music we were playing and the reactions we were getting inspired me to start writing original music for the band. I wrote and co-wrote the songs for the album, working closely with Carlos and Jimmy Le Messurier where the songs called for it. Carlos and I wrote “Mambo Te Llama”  (“The Mambo Calls You”), which we released as a 45 on ATA Records in May 2024. It nearly sold out on pre-order and received fantastic radio support, including from Gilles Peterson and Cerys Matthews on BBC 6 Music.

S&C: Your route into Latin music wasn’t exactly conventional. You came through Yorkshire brass bands and classical training, while Lubi came through DJing, record collecting and digging. Do you remember the record, musician or moment that made Latin music feel like something you needed to pursue rather than simply something you enjoyed listening to?

JE: The defining moment for me was seeing Manny Oquendo y Conjunto Libre at the Clapham Grand, around 1992. Their horn section had five trombones, including Jimmy Bosch. It was incredible, and Conjunto Libre quickly became my favourite band.

I loved Jimmy Bosch’s playing, and I learned his solos and started coming up with horn moñas (riffs) in his style.  Years later, it felt like a real full-circle moment when my first band, Grupo X, had the chance to back Jimmy on several UK visits as a solo artist.

By then, I was studying at the Royal College of Music. I had just joined La Clave, one of the leading Latin bands on the London scene at the time, led by Orchestra Mambo International’s timbalero and fellow songwriter, Jimmy Le Messurier. I was already deeply into the music, but seeing Conjunto Libre live sealed it for me.

S&C: Interesting! So you spent years digging into the history of mambo, son, salsa and the New York Latin scene, and then you found yourself working alongside musicians who had been part of that history, including Joe Bataan and Jack Costanzo. Was there a particular moment when you realized that the music you’d spent years studying had become something you were physically inside?

JE: My Latin musical education has come largely through being in clubs and seeing how people react to the music, listening on repeat to tracks I really like, transcribing loads of tunes for the bands I have played with, and playing alongside talented, generous musicians from all over the world. 

I’ve been fortunate to work with artists such as Joe Bataan and Jack Costanzo. I learned a great deal from both of them, not only from their music, but also from their hard work and single-mindedness in choosing their own path and sticking to it.

I can’t think of a particular moment when it clicked, and there’s always so much more to learn, but it’s just been a gradual process where I’ve become confident enough to find my own voice within that style. 

Writing and producing this album was probably the clearest expression of that. I wrote or co-wrote all of the material, then arranged and produced it with the orchestra in mind. It felt as though years of listening, transcribing, performing and leading bands were pouring into the new songs.

Releasing it through my own label, Loft Recordings, has been part of that process too. It means taking responsibility for the whole thing, from the first musical idea through to the finished record, but I’ve got a great team around me and lots of people to chat to for advice, including Lubi, Jimmy and our bass player, Simon Edwards. My family keep me grounded. And living in West Yorkshire, you can’t get too big for your boots.

S&C: There’s something fascinating about Orchestra Mambo’s geography. The music has deep roots in Cuba, Puerto Rico, New York and the wider Caribbean, yet this particular orchestra has grown out of Yorkshire and brings together musicians from Colombia, Cuba, Brazil, Venezuela, Spain and the UK. What’s your take on musical traditions that travel this far from their historical centres?

JE: For me, it feels completely natural. This music has always travelled, evolved and brought people together, and our band reflects that, with its international lineup.

The important thing is to respect its roots: to listen, learn the language, understand where it comes from and play it properly. But we also want to share its joy as widely as possible. I hope the music on the album has soul and depth, with plenty going on in the arrangements, while still being exciting, welcoming and made for people to enjoy together.

That is why we are taking the orchestra to new places on our album tour. We want people beyond the usual Latin and jazz audiences to experience a full mambo orchestra:  the rhythms, percussion, brass and energy of it all, whether they come to dance, listen closely or simply have a great night out.

S&C: Absolutely. On another note, Carlos “Pachanga” Peña is 72, while the orchestra also includes a much younger generation of musicians. What have you seen happen between those generations that couldn’t really be taught in a classroom or written into an arrangement?

JE: This is one of the most special things about the band for me. I got my own break with La Clave at 20 and learned a lot from playing with older musicians, so I have always wanted to give talented younger musicians opportunities, and Lubi feels the same.

Young musicians such as trumpeter Olivia Cuttill, baritone saxophonist Gustavo Andrade and coro singer Romy Taylor bring freshness, energy and fearlessness. They are all already making names for themselves and leading successful projects in their own right.

Playing alongside more experienced musicians brings a different kind of learning: to do with feel, perspective and the ability to react in the moment. Carlos brings a lifetime of experience, having toured as a corista with Oscar D’Leon and much more, but he is incredibly youthful himself; he would probably say he has more energy than anyone in the band. It’s a really exciting combination, and that’s something you can’t write into an arrangement.

S&C: With ¡Apúntalo!, there seems to be a strong desire to make the music something people participate in rather than something they simply observe. What do you think happens when Latin music is treated as a living social experience rather than as something to be preserved behind glass?

JE: We are really keen to bring people into the music rather than present it as something distant or exclusive. I was very proud when we played Glastonbury Festival last year: the Glasto Latino tent was packed on both nights, and most of the audience had probably not heard of us or been familiar with this particular style of music before. But they really responded, cheering the solos, dancing, singing along and giving the band so much energy.

That is what this music is about for me. It is sophisticated and full of history, but it also makes you feel good. The audience is part of the experience: their dancing, cheering and response changes the atmosphere in the room, and the band feels that.

We want to respect the tradition, but not treat it as a museum piece. The best way to keep this music alive is to play it with real commitment, write new music within that tradition, and invite people in to share the joy of it.

S&C: You once mentioned buying Orquesta Novel’s Que Viva El Son Montuno at Mr Bongo in London in the mid-90s. What’s a record you’ve lived with for decades that still reveals something new every time you put it on?

JE: Sonido, Estilo y Ritmo by Manny Oquendo’s Conjunto Libre (Montuno Records, 1991).  The title means Sound, Style and Rhythm, and that pretty much sums up the six tracks on the album, with beautiful arrangements of classics like “Qué Humanidad”, “Estoy Como Nunca”, and “Llora Timbero”.  It’s music for dancing, but there’s lots of detail in the arrangements, with jazzy harmonies and mambos that take the songs off into new places.  

The playing is top-notch with Jimmy Bosch firing on all cylinders over rich trombone moñas and Dave Valentín’s virtuosic flute playing conversing with Manny Oquendo’s timbales, with amazing playing from Andy and Jerry González (bass and congas).  It has a real sense of joy, but there’s something deeper and majestic in the rhythms that really gets me every time I listen.

S&C: You’ve spent a lot of time mentoring younger musicians. Gustavo Andrade, Víctor Estévez and Olivia Cuttill are now part of this wider story. At what point does the relationship change from “I’m teaching this person” to “this person is teaching me something”?

JE: Right from the start, really. I learn as much from them as they do from me.

I can help with things such as phrasing, articulation and the finer details of the style, but when they start playing, they bring an exuberance and excitement that is genuinely inspiring. Gustavo, Víctor and Olivia are all hugely talented, well-trained musicians in their own right, and they are not afraid to ask searching questions, which definitely keeps me on my toes.

For the more experienced members of the band, their energy reminds us how it felt when we were starting out. It is a lovely thing to see, and it gives us a good spirit as a band.

S&C: You grew up around Halifax and Bradford, learned your craft through British brass bands and classical music, and eventually found yourself leading a multi-national Latin orchestra and playing places like Glastonbury. If someone had told teenage Jonny that this was where the road was heading, what part of the story would he have found hardest to believe?

JE: I was always keen on the idea of leading my own band. Aside from my classical music activities, in my teens I had a New Orleans jazz band that played in local pubs. We only had six tunes, so we’d rotate them and give them different names, hoping nobody would notice.

I loved the idea of being part of a horn section, like the ones I saw on Top of the Pops with bands such as Dexys Midnight Runners and The Specials. I thought that would be a good thing to get into at some stage, but I never would have imagined that I would discover Latin music or that it would become such a central part of my life.

I did have to pinch myself when we were recording the album and had brilliant musicians like Carlos Peña, Claritzel Miyares and Chip Wickham in my studio. That was definitely a thrill, and I had to make sure I concentrated and pressed record at the right times!

S&C: Amazing! To finish this great interview with a bit on recorded music, you’ve spent decades digging through records, so I’m curious about what your ears are actually chasing these days. What are a couple of artists or records you’ve been listening to a lot lately, whether they’re new or 50 years old?

JE: Whilst I’ve been writing and producing our album, I’ve been listening to loads of classic New York salsa for inspiration. One record I’ve had on a lot is Siembra by Willie Colón and Rubén Blades (Fania Records, 1978). I just love the performances, and Willie Colón’s arrangements go off in all sorts of unexpected directions, but never get in the way of the songs. Rubén Blades sings them so beautifully.

I like a good song, and I really like Olivia Dean’s album The Art of Loving, which is packed full of them. She’s a brilliant performer, and there’s something so positive about the album. It’s good to listen to different styles and just enjoy good music, rather than always analysing everything.

¡Apúntalo! is ultimately a record made to be heard in motion. There are deep arrangements, years of musical history and serious musicianship under the surface, but Orchestra Mambo International never loses sight of what makes this music so powerful in the first place: people coming together, dancing, listening and responding to one another. If Jonny Enright’s story tells us anything, it is that musical traditions do not stay in one place. They travel, they change, and they find new people willing to carry them forward.

¡Apuntalo! is out today via Loft Recordings. Listen to it on Bandcamp, give it a proper spin, and catch Orchestra Mambo International on their UK tour this autumn.

Today, the São Paulo-based composer, producer and guitarist Lourenço Rebetez announces his second album, Lingua Geral (scheduled for 4th November), alongside the release of the first single from the album, “Maestro”.

Produced by the semi-legendary Arto Lindsay and featuring a whole wealth of notable musicians, Lingua Geral brings together Candomblé percussion and rhythms, jazz and echoes of hip-hop beat-makers like Madlib and J Dilla. Sounds good! For the moment, we have to content ourselves with “Maestro”. As the title suggests, it’s an homage to a mentor – Letieres Leite – which opens with a kind of lopsided call-and-response between the percussion and horns before… Well, listen up and see what you think.

Bárbara Scarambone is a Brazilian artist, independent researcher, and naturally curious person. Boombop Indica is her Substack music newsletter (written in Portuguese),  organized by season and free of frills, featuring new releases and non-obvious recommendations. Who is Boombop for? For those who live and breathe music and love the feeling of discovering a new band or stumbling upon an album they didn’t even know existed.

During the World Cup she wrote a post about alternative music from Paraguay, featuring her in-house style of poetic writing, original research, and dreamy analysis, and which she has kindly allowed us to reproduce here, thereby offering us a great opportunity to hear some new music from a much ignored country. 

Hi there. On this day without a match, I’m trying not to think about the World Cup, but it’s impossible not to think about Paraguay, a place that usually appears to us as a border, a neighbor, a crossing, a news item, a stereotype, a blank space on the map. Yet every border has a side that sings softly before turning into a road. And it was through that side that this post began to open up: not as a postcard or through a ready-made notion of Latin American music, but through a collection of noises, guitars, tapes, bedrooms, radios, heat, dust, and invention.

Augusto Roa Bastos, one of the country’s greatest writers, used to say that Paraguay is an island surrounded by land. Perhaps that’s why the music from there sounds like someone inventing their own sea. It is a country that speaks two languages ​​at once and blends them into a third, Jopará, and that created an entirely new [musical] genre a century ago, Guarania, just so it could sing more slowly than the world demanded. A country where women weave ñanduti, a type of lace that mimics a spiderweb (the word literally means “spiderweb” in Guaraní), thread by thread, much like someone recording on four tracks.

There is something deeply moving about listening to a country through what it lets slip out. A band from Coronel Oviedo trying to freeze time with 90s-style guitars, unaware that they are repeating the founding gesture of Guarania. Two brothers in Asunción recording homemade psychedelia in the 70s, in a basement, right in the middle of the Stroessner dictatorship, when broadcasters were scared to even play Italo disco on the radio, and long before lo-fi became a recognized language. Surf music made far from the sea, on that very island surrounded by land. Dream pop with a small-town accent, backyard psychedelia, and noise pop that is both tender and loud, the kind that sounds like it was recorded with a heart pressed right up against the amplifier. This edition of Boombop Indica is a small, affective archaeology of alternative Paraguay: listening to what happens when sound becomes a place. The country emerges as a frequency: strange, sweet, electric, underground, the kind that arrives from the side and keeps echoing, like a door discovered in the middle of a wall. Shall we proceed?

Cassette – Como pasa el tiempo (2026)

Where: Coronel Oviedo, Paraguay

For those who enjoy: ethereal-reverbed-nineties guitars, My Bloody Valentine playing on a countryside radio station, the need to stop time knowing that it doesn’t stop for anyone, small-town dream pop, analogue photos fading with care.

The hit: No me busques

JODI – Pop Espontáneo (1972)

Where: Asunción, Paraguay

For fans of: basement-style Mutantes, raw and visionary homemade psychedelia, a Stockhausen student with an 8-track recorder, R. Stevie Moore, clandestine fuzz during a dictatorship, vinyl archaeology, and discovering that lo-fi existed before the name did.

The hit: Loveseller

EEEKS – Pet City (2017)

Where: Asunción, Paraguay

For fans of: 1960s surf music with no sea on the horizon: “the island without a sea”, guitars that start at the beach and end in the dark; a blend of new wave, post-punk, and shoegaze with a dash of grit; Allah-Las after listening to The Cure; dancing while looking at the floor; electric 60s vibes filtered through the 80s; reverb as an act of imagination; the B-side of summer.

The hit: II Novo 60’s

The Crayolas – Being There (2018)

From: Asunción, Paraguay

For fans of: backyard psychedelia with sharp guitars, closing your eyes and seeing a kaleidoscope, hot afternoons slowly melting away, singing in English while dreaming in Guaraní, colors that don’t yet have names, a good-humored Ty Segall, the world seen through coloured glass, and siestas that turn into journeys.

The hit: Sabes

paraguanoise – Tierra del Cerro (2025)

Where: Asunción, Paraguay

For those who like: lo-fi noise pop, El Mató a Un Policía Motorizado, Yo La Tengo, distortion like a hug, love songs recorded in the bedroom, Horsegirl, the blurred border between Asunción and La Plata, being young and eternal with the amplifier on.

The hit: Secuencia

(Here’s a link to the original post on Substack.)

“Magdalena Ruiz” is the first single from an album that comes out next month. Madre Cumbia is an intriguing collaboration that brings together the ancestral custodians of Colombia’s oldest cumbia traditions, the architect of modern tropical music and the country’s greatest living accordionists.

Latin Grammy Award-winning Los Gaiteros de San Jacinto represent one of Colombia’s oldest continuously performed musical traditions. Active since the 1940’s, their music preserves the ancestral dialogue between gaitas, drums and voice that predates the commercial recording industry and has become synonymous with the very origins of cumbia. As custodians of an Afro-Indigenous musical heritage, they remain the definitive link to the genre’s birthplace.  

Fruko hardly needs an introduction. He has been called “a one-man tropical orchestra“ and few musicians have left a greater imprint on Colombian popular music. Often described as the Quincy Jones of Colombia, he served as the visionary producer behind the golden era of Discos Fuentes, an era that helped define the sound of modern tropical music through so many groundbreaking recordings.

Latin Grammy-nominated Carmelo Torres carries forward the accordion tradition born in Colombia’s Caribbean plains. As the direct heir to the cumbia sabanera lineage shaped by pioneers such as Andrés Landero and Aníibal Velasquez,  Torres is widely regarded as one of the last great acordeonistas gruesos—a powerful, deeply rhythmic style rooted in the same musical communities where cumbia first flourished. Recently, he portrayed Gabriel García Márquez’s character Francisco El Hombre in episode 4 of Netflix’s One Hundred Years of Solitude.

The single is a celebration of San Jacinto and one of the great songwriting traditions of the Colombian Caribbean. San Jacinto is inseparable from Los Gaiteros de San Jacinto, but it also produced the song’s legendary composer, Adolfo Pacheco, one of Colombia’s great songwriters, whose repertoire moved between vallenato, cumbia and the traditional music of the Montes de María. A schoolteacher, lawyer and public servant who remained deeply connected to the civic and cultural life of his region, Pacheco was recognised by the Festival de la Leyenda Vallenata in 2005 for his extraordinary contribution to Colombian music by naming him Rey Vitalicio, “King for Life”.

“Magdalena Ruiz” is more than a portrait of a legendary dancer; it is Pacheco remembering an entire world through her. He tells us what the viejos y gaiteros remember: Magdalena’s white smile, the sensuality and grace of her movement, and the way a gathering changed the moment she arrived. The song’s extraordinary line, “Si no llegaba Magdalena, se enfriaba de la gaita el son,” suggests that without her, even the sound of the gaita grew cold. When Magdalena arrives, everything comes alive: the musicians, the dancers, the drinking, the young men and women, the elders, the opening of the circle “La Rueda”. And when Pacheco sings “Ahora la evoco en mi cantar” — “Now I evoke her in my song” — he is not only summoning Magdalena’s memory; through her, he is summoning cumbia itself. Magdalena is the spirit of the music, a deity implored to connect the community.

Here’s a private link so you can stream the single now on Soundcloud.

At the centre of the world depicted by the song is the rueda de cumbia, the traditional circle in which cumbia becomes a communal ritual rather than simply a musical performance. The musicians occupy the musical centre while dancers move around them in a circle, traditionally with women carrying candles and moving with long skirts as the drums and gaitas propel the rueda forward. The form embodies the intertwined African and Indigenous foundations of Colombian cumbia, alongside European influences that entered its dress and social environment. Percussion, gaitas, movement, courtship, fire and community all exist within the same space. There is no hard division between performer and audience: the musicians create the music for the dancers, while the dancers give the music its physical life. La rueda is cumbia experienced as a living social ritual. She represents the dancer as an essential participant in cumbia—the person capable of transforming sound into celebration.

If this whets your appetite for more, as it certainly does mine, the vinyl edition of the album is out on 20th October, while the digital download release occurs on the 10th December.

(Cover photo of Los Gaiteros de San Jacinto with Carmelo Torres courtesy of Alan Pulido.)

Six years after the release of Rastilho (2020), musician, composer, and producer Kiko Dinucci returns with his latest studio album, entitled Medusa. It’s described by Dinucci himself as “an album of love, ghosts, and beasts”. Dinucci is one of the most influential and inventive figures in contemporary Brazilian independent music, moving fluidly in the inter-zone between punk, samba and experimental music.

The album evokes a swarm of upfront guitars applied to the Brazilian songbook, samba, and the 1970s romantic ballads of Roberto Carlos, while remaining anchored in the post-hardcore sound of the nineties. To describe the album’s sound, Dinucci has invented the word Exugaze, a kind of Brazilian shoegaze, moving away from his acoustic steel-stringed strumming sound and into more abstract territories. There’s not even recognisable guitar in “Faca da Palavra”, which becomes a deliberate drone using a rabeca bow. At the same time, the delirious lo-fi romanticism of “Como foi?” destroys any romantic feeling, making fun of its over-sentimentalism in a burlesque manner. I spoke to Dinucci about the making of this remarkable record.

Sounds & Colours: What was the starting point and initial inspiration behind Medusa? 

Kiko Dinucci: It all began with an album I started recording in 2024 that went completely wrong, a creative shipwreck, an aesthetic mess. I had to admit defeat and halt the sessions. Then, the idea struck me to make a record reinterpreting the work of Noel Rosa, which sounds almost like an affront to the more conservative wing of the samba scene: a guy from São Paulo playing Noel on an electric guitar. That blend of homage and irreverence made me want to take a chance on the idea. I recorded a song called “Pela Décima Vez” in that style; I really liked the result and played it to Cadu Tenório, one of the album’s collaborators. He remarked that it had a Dream Pop and shoegaze vibe. I’d never listened to much Shoegaze, I’ve always preferred American alternative bands that emerged from the punk/hardcore scene, like Hüsker Dü, Dinosaur Jr., Minutemen and Sonic Youth. But I started paying attention to My Bloody Valentine specifically, and I became fascinated by the radical way Kevin Shields explores the guitar. I began testing the format with my own new songs and liked the outcome. 

S&C: Tell us a bit about how the album was created; how did you choose your collaborators? 

KD: I recorded at least 70% of the album in my small home studio, my salinha, which was a very solitary process. I started worrying that the work might become too self-absorbed, so I thought about inviting people to intervene and bring something fresh for both me and the audience. Juçara Marçal, for instance, a lifelong sister to me, experimented with vocal samples, adding a whole new colour to the record. Cadu Tenório introduced elements from electronic music culture that brought a lot of newness to my sound. Lucas Pires and Gustavo Infante brought the sonic texture of analog tape. I think every collaborator, whether in composition or arrangement, contributed things I couldn’t have achieved on my own. 

S&C: You’ve just mentioned Juçara Marçal. I see that she’s credited as “Director” on the album; could you expand on her role in the recording process?

KD: I invited Juçara to help me with the album back in 2024. She was the one who suggested I interpret Noel Rosa’s work using guitars. When I began developing the Medusa album in a shoegaze style, she contributed many ideas and helped guide the production process. Ultimately, she also collaborated on the arrangements for “Loira Palmer”, “Claudia”, “Frota e Eu”, and “Segundo Eterno”, treating the voice as an instrument, as texture or noise, an approach not often found in Brazilian song albums. Juçara deeply explores these alternative ways of using the voice; I view her as an instrumentalist. Her collaboration was pivotal, especially through our day-to-day conversations amidst our other professional commitments. I feel a strong artistic affinity with Juçara; meeting her was truly a defining moment in my life, and we have constantly fueled each other’s creativity throughout our shared artistic journey.

S&C: The album draws from artists like My Bloody Valentine, Sonic Youth and even veteran crooner Roberto Carlos. How did they influence its sound? 

KD: Although the record references the alternative rock of the 80s and 90s, I always wanted it to have a sound that could only be created in Brazil. So, there is a strong influence from popular song, samba, brega music and Roberto Carlos. I am incapable of purely emulating American or British music; doing so would feel like a defeat. I like the antropofagia [cultural cannibalism] concept: devouring external influences and refashioning them in a Brazilian way. It’s a sort of “beneficial flaw” that can result in something original and interesting.

S&C: I was expecting a “Rastilho 2” type of album. Compared to your previous work, what are the main sonic differences on this album? 

KD: I have a personal dogma, which is to always try to make an album that is contrary to the previous one. This has always happened on my journey. But I don’t plan too much either. I remember that after Rastilho I considered making an album playing steel stringed acoustic guitar and samples of construction noises. It seemed like an interesting idea to me, but I never came close to realizing it or trying it out. Life takes new directions and this influences the work. 2025 was a very difficult and challenging year for me, ending a relationship, the deaths of my father and friends. This is directly reflected in Medusa‘s songs and sound. 

S&C: There’s a lot of “noise” out there; I’ve noticed a lot of recent Brazilian recordings using noise, even social media has embraced noise, with the “Listening to a Merzbow album everyday” account, do you think noise has become more acceptable? Do you want to defy your audience’s expectations?

KD: I remember in the 90s when grunge exploded. I turned on the radio and I didn’t know what was indie or major anymore, everyone was very similar aesthetically. In general, in Brazil, I still feel resistance from the market due to noise or simply loud guitars. If you look at Brazilian music from all previous decades, the guitar is always low and the singers’ voices are very loud, at the front. The band often just serves as a pleasant and comfortable carpet for the singer to embrace and walk on. The assumed “noise” is not much part of the industry in general. But on the other hand we have rhythms like funk, brega funk and other rhythms that come from the ghetto that can be very noisy, claustrophobic, neurotic and not the noise of the guitar. Perhaps guitar noise is conservative compared to these musical styles. But what we call MPB hates loud guitars; it makes sense, because in the 60s there was even a demonstration against the electric guitar. I believe that within this Brazilian song culture, Medusa could be an anomaly. The guitar is way ahead of everything, including the voice, although I think the lyrics, melodies and voices on the album are important. In the 80s when Sepultura started recording in the studio, the technicians went crazy, they had never heard a guitar so loud and distorted. Nowadays it’s super normal.

S&C: “Claudia, Frota e Eu” references Sonic Youth’s “Madonna, Sean, and Me” [From the 1986 album EVOL]. Could you explain this reference to a foreign audience?

KD: Yeah, I was thinking about a couple that was very “pop” and just as toxic as the Madonna/Sean relationship was. I told Negro Leo about the theme, and he wrote the lyrics. I had a lot of fun with this song. I imagined Dinosaur Jr. playing it. And the lyrics have nothing to do with those real-life figures; the melody is kind of Jovem Guarda [60s Brazilian pop]. Before the choruses, there are drum fills typical of electronic brega music, but then no drums come in at all. It’s a mix of things combined in a somewhat schizophrenic way. That’s how I bring some identity and a signature sound to the song, beyond that external influence.

S&C: The Risco label is releasing this album. Is there a reason you changed labels? 

KD: I gravitated toward Selo Risco because I have friends who’ve released material with them, artists like Arnaldo Antunes, Sophia Chablau, Cidadão Instigado, Maria Beraldo and Vitor Araújo. I felt this album had an affinity with their roster. It’s my noisiest record, yet at the same time, there’s an almost orchestral beauty to the guitars, and also a pop sensibility to these love songs. For instance, I think the chorus of “Cão Perdido” sounds like Arrocha or Piseiro; maybe that’s just me imagining things, but I believe I’m constantly flirting with popular music. As we say in Brazil: “a bit of drugs, a bit of salad”. I like that clash of noise and beauty, of the experimental and the pop; I learned that from Sonic Youth when I first heard a copied cassette of Daydream Nation. Even though Selo Risco has some big names, it’s an alternative label, far from being a major label. We view the partnership as a true collaboration. I have always covered 100% of the costs for my previous albums. Having a partner label to share the expenses and relieve the burden of all the work I used to do alone has been a really rewarding experience for me.

S&C: How does this album set the tone for what’s next? 

KD: I want to play a lot of shows for this album. I’ll also keep doing all my other side projects. Those projects introduce me to new people and might point me in a new direction for the future; ideally, one where I can experiment with something I’ve never done before and bring something fresh to the audience and, first and foremost, to myself.

You can listen to Kiko Dinucci’s new album here on Bandcamp:

I apologise in advance for the amount of sheer noise on offer in the column. There seems to be a clear movement of DIY noise within Brazilian music at the moment. Whether it be guitar or sampler driven, what is it a reaction to exactly? Maybe the nepotistic neo-MPB that dominates the national stages. This month there are some really fascinating releases, which include indigenous black metal, psychedelic country folk, glitchy experimental MPB, a mixtape of DJ shout-outs, and schizophrenic dystopian tech-step.

Antropoceno – No Ritmo da Terra (Flowing Downward)

This is quite an extraordinary release, all-encompassing in its philosophy and production. Lua Viana is a São Paulo-based musician and producer, who previously created ethereal shoegaze soundscapes from her bedroom studio. However, her new artistic identity is Antropoceno, an experimental project that takes elements from the folk music of Candomblé and Capoeira and mixes them with deep guttural growls and avant-garde metal. Buried within this mix is a debate about climate change and decolonialism. This album is the second of a trilogy inspired by the work of Ailton Krenak, the writer and philosopher, whose book Ancestral Future demands “an ontological realignment with nature, through the recovery of resistance technologies developed by peoples who remained connected to the planet as a survival tactic against the erasure of subjectivities in the colonial process”. Viana attempts to incorporate Ailton’s philosophy through this dense and imaginative sound design, using the rhythms of Brazilian music and field recordings of the Amazon rainforest with electronics. It’s a heavy, intense experience and highly recommended. Also, look out for her experimental baile funk project as DJ URUTAU, which mixes bird song with grinding distortion.

Kaatayra- Caminhos de Agua  (Flowing Downward)

Also walking the line between Brazilian indigenous folk music and avant black metal is this companion album to the Antropocena release, available in Europe on the same label. If I can find one more I may have come across a trend. As with No Ritmo da Terra, there are references to nature, but here the focus is water, waterfalls and birds, the cangaço (North-eastern bandits), Afro-Brazilian rhythms and religions, and the philosophy and languages ​​of Brazil’s indigenous peoples. Caio Lemos is the creative mind behind Kaatayra. The album uses acoustic instruments to make a folk-inflicted black metal. He plays metal riffs on the acoustic guitar with “blast beat” metal drums and deep guttural vocals combined with the indigenous folk elements of flute; think of an Amazonian tribe playing Slayer. The main tracks on the album are long, up to 12 minutes, and like the prog-rock it’s clearly influenced by, the tracks stretch out, full of ideas and contain various movements, flowing like the rivers of Goiás, the inspiration for the music, made after a trip to Chapada dos Veadeiros. 

Rogerio Skylab – Skylab IV (Self-released)

A re-release and expanded version of this self-released album from 2003 from Rio de Janeiro cult rocker Skylab, the fourth in a series of ten eponymous albums. Skylab is pretty difficult to classify; he’s done a series of albums with column favourite Cadu Tenório, which featured “the corpse within MPB” backgrounded by Tenório’s anxiety-inducing electronics. Even though he’s backed by a traditional hard rock quartet on this release, he still defies categorisation by veering from samba marchinhas that reference samba legend Beth Carvalho, to potty-mouthed groovy funk about his hard cock, and a bossa nova that asks who killed a long list of cult MPB figures, including Tom Zé, very much alive at 90. A highlight is the spoken word piece “Puta” that recounts the different ways society makes suckers of us all. I saw Skylab and his band perform this album live recently in an open-air Greek theatre and it was quite special; his ageing, scrawny frame poised over the mic stand kept the crowd captive for nearly two hours.

Trielektro – Trielektro no lounge Lisboa (mutum)

Ricardo Dias Gomes was rightfully critically lauded for his take on singer-songwriter MPB on 2023’s Muito Sol and this release documents his more experimental tendencies, an inkling of which we previously heard on the excellent drone piece “Fllux”. For this new label, a Portuguese and Brazilian joint venture, Gomes is joined by Gil Fortes and Luciana Melo on a recording made at Lounge Lisboa, a venue which closed its doors in 2024. It’s an encounter of free improvisation. There’s a heavy drone rumbling in the background, and layered onto this are processed vocals, electronics, strange string sounds, percussion, and feedback. This creates moments of tension and suspension, alternating between hums, tape hiss, blips, pulses, and disembodied voices, with the music bridging spontaneity, electro-acoustic experimentation, noise, fragmentation, and sonic abstraction.

Cáustico – Banzeiro (Self-released)

Cáustico are an experimental noise-punk duo from Jundiaí, São Paulo, formed by Matheus Campos on guitar and Cely Couto on drums. Eliane Brum, the Brazilian journalist and writer, describes the Banzeiro as “…what the Xingu people call the wild territory of the river. It’s where, if you’re lucky, you can pass; if you’re unlucky, you won’t. It’s a place of danger between where you came from and where you want to go. Those who row wait for the banzeiro to retract its claws or to calm down.” So, this month we find a further reference to indigenous culture within the context of noise and avant-metal. But the aggressive currents of the banzeiro are an adequate description of the noise that this young married couple produce: a swirling maelstrom of effects-laden guitar racket mixed with grindcore riffs, hardcore drumming, and barely audible vocals. Live, they lock into a battering-ram wall of noise aided by their board of assorted pedals and effects.

Samucapta – Samucapta (Self-released) 

As a respite from a lot of the brain-battering noise this month is this debut solo album of bright progressive folk-rock from Piaui by visual artist, composer, and producer Samuel Brandão. The work features violão caipira and pífano flute and adopts ideas from classic rock, psychedelia, Celtic music, folk, world music, and MPB. It presents a North-eastern music drawing from the region’s own 1970s history of countrified psychedelia, while also looking to the Beatles, Pink Floyd, Jethro Tull, and Gentle Giant (now, there’s an influence you don’t see too often). A track like “A Tarde do Rei” mixes flamenco guitar with jazz trumpet, while “Tá pra Chegar” is a proggy folk piece that builds with its instrumentation and takes inspiration from Zé Ramalho, the original purveyor of the country folk of violão caipira mixed with psychedelic jams. Ramalho’s 1975 album Paêbirú still sounds remarkable today, with its mixture of mysticism, raga rock, acid folk and Brazilian rhythms. 

Getúlio abelha – Autopsia+ (Self-released)

Another singer and composer from Piauí, but this artist shows a much more modernist side to the region’s music. Abelha is a leading light in the LGBTQIA+ forró scene, and this is an expansion of last year’s EP Autópsia (hence the +). Much of this release works within the tecnobrega genre, the galloping beat that dominates the north, but with a heavy techno-pop influence and lyrics that speak openly about mental health challenges and the fine line between hedonism and despair. There’s also more traditional forró using accordion, and “Toda Semana” is an interesting combination of a piseiro beat, an arrangement with loads of harmony, and a chorus that is both a celebration of nightlife and a cry for help. Abelha is not afraid to chuck everything into the pot; there are dashes of funk batidão, trashy pop, rock, cumbia, and even bolero, culminating in an adventurous pop release.

SEXCORP – Delírios Anarco-Niilistas (.orphans)

Furthering my theory that there really is a new wave of Brazilian noise is this release, created utilizing various Rolands, KORGs, a Yamaha DX7 and distorted loops fashioned by sampling through pedals. The sound is an extreme over-driven, hyperactive, hyper-distorted, break core. There’s scattershot breakbeats and whooshing rave sounds that would sound amazing in a tiny sweaty cellar club. According to the Bandcamp comments, this album goes amazingly well with the game Darktide, and is “good music for good scraps in the Deadside wastes”, a statement which, frankly, leaves me clueless. I admire the creativity and the brevity and I listen to this and wonder what music they listen to to chill out after a day at the figurative computer coalface composing this manically hyper version of updated gabba. Phil Collins perhaps?

Agazero – Dissidente (Halcyon Veil)

Based in Niterói, a neighbouring city to Rio, Agazero, meaning H0, the Higgs boson “god particle”, is a multifaceted producer who also DJs under the name LHC. Initially inspired by the underground SoundCloud scene, he subsequently learned about jungle, plug, experimental IDM, and Jersey club, all of which feed into this madly inventive baile funk-inflected production, enhanced by superb editing and a wealth of ideas. “Amidst Backstage Hostility” plumbs the depths of bass music with its “Fuck the sound technician” and “I don’t like the backstage area” soundbites. “Through Sterile Appropriation” uses Middle Eastern violins and percussion to sound like Muslimgauze doing baile funk. “Intro Hermetic Isolation” features the aforementioned sonic terrorists SEXCORP and comes off as schizophrenic dystopian tech-step.

Clau Aniz – mácula (Mercúrio Música)

Another terrific album from the experimental fringes of contemporary Brazilian music, this time by singer, songwriter and producer Aniz from Fortaleza. The record, produced in collaboration with Yuri Costa, plays with influences that span jazz, avant-pop, noise, electronic music, and traditional Brazilian song. It was a workshop that became the catalyst for the album. As Aniz says, “The Music Creation Laboratory at Escola Porto Iracema das Artes, between 2023 and 2024, was incredibly vital for us. Negro Leo served as our mentor, and it was during that residency in Fortaleza that mácula truly took shape.” There’s not so much a direct musical influence from Maranhão-born Leo but it’s more in the mixing up of genres and the multiplicity of ideas resulting in these curious songs. Moving between instrumental pieces and vocal tracks, the opener “palavra” is a collage of flute, percussion and glitch. “Ressaca” follows a more traditional verse-chorus structure, while “harsh” demonstrates the sophisticated arrangements and layering at play.

Various – A Minha Vida é um Filme e Nele Eu Sou o Vilão: Carimbos e Vinhetas dos Paredões Brasileiros (Lugar Alto)

São Paulo label Lugar Alto have outdone themselves in regard to unpredictability with this cassette tape, a further attempt to bring the extremely populist (in the low-brow sense) to the more high-brow, discerning listener. The line that gives this project its title, “My life’s a movie and I’m the villain,” appears right at the beginning of this collage mixtape of DJ signatures, set intros, and sound system call-outs that come from baile funk and brega street sound systems known as paredões. A comparison for these fragments are the call-outs for raves that could be heard at the peak of pirate radio at the end of the ’80s and early ’90s. These carimbos and vinhetas range from the 1980s to 2025; you can hear the classic Rio de Janeiro sound systems such as Furacão 2000 and Cashbox, easily dated by their use of Miami bass breakbeats, to the current tuin of São Paulo’s mandelão scene. There are snatches of Linkin Park, the Prodigy, and Red Hot Chili Peppers, and there are representations of tecnobrega from Belém, Salvador’s pagodão, and the reggae sound systems of São Luís. It’s constant edging, not quite achieving the release of the expected drop, and I’m not sure what it means to the non-Portuguese-speaking listener, though the sheer variety and creativity are highly entertaining.

Yannick Hara – O Transe da Terra em Prosa (Self-released)

Drawing inspiration from the seminal 1967 film Terra em Transe (Entranced Earth) by Glauber Rocha, this EP is part of Yannick Hara’s conceptual cycle of creating rap inspired by the radical aesthetics of Cinema Novo, the new wave cinema movement that birthed the Tropicalismo spirit. Hara’s output is deeply theatrical, organized into acts and brought to life through film projections that blur the line between music and cinema in a style he dubs “Brazilian Cinema Novo Rap”. The music uses candomblé chanting and percussion, film dialogue, loops, and laid back breakbeats as a backdrop to raps that highlight that the problems encountered in the original film still exist: the crisis of power, populism and the disillusionment of left-wing intellectuals in Latin America.

The Circular Universe is a new film that documents the extraordinary life of Brazilian electro-acoustic and multimedia artist Jocy de Oliveira. The documentary gives an insightful overview of her life, which includes working with Stravinsky, Xenakis, and Stockhausen, her own idiosyncratic anti-bossa nova and her ‘post-operas’ with experimental electronics. 

At 90 years old, de Oliveira is still composing today. However, in a reflection of the changing face of culture in São Paulo, the new opera she was working on has just been cancelled by the Teatro Municipal de São Paulo, following changes in the institution’s leadership, with the new administration having an anti-identitarian and  more conservative cultural vision for the programme.

Despite this, the documentary is coming to Europe with the following dates confirmed:

September 24th at Sinema Transtopia, Berlin 
October 18th at the XenophoniX AvantJazz Festival, Copenhagen
October 23rd at the SemiBreve Festival in Braga, Portugal
The first week of November at In-Edit Festival, Barcelona.

Further screenings are to be confirmed for France and London.

I spoke to the documentary’s director, Dácio Pinheiro, about the film and the process of making it.

Sounds & Colours: A simple question: Why Jocy and why now?

Dácio Pinheiro: In 2017, I met Jocy for the first time, through a close friend and longtime collaborator, the musician Paulo Beto. At the time, we had started developing a documentary project about electronic music called Eletrônica:Mentes (Electronic:Minds). Since the subject opened up many possible musical directions, we decided to focus the research and narrative on the pioneers of electronic music in Brazil, in contrast with younger artists producing experimental electronic music today, from musicians nostalgic for analog equipment to those working with more advanced technologies.

During the research process, I came across Jocy de Oliveira and became fascinated by both her life trajectory and her creative energy. The documentary was released during the pandemic, but it was still screened at festivals such as IndieLisboa and In-Edit Brasil. After finishing the film, I was left with a strong desire to make a documentary entirely dedicated to Jocy. So, after 2020, Paulo Beto and I began developing this new project together. In 2022, we received our first support from the São Paulo State Department of Culture, and towards the final stage of production we also partnered with SescTV. It took us four years to complete the film.

It felt perfect that the documentary was finished close to Jocy de Oliveira’s 90th birthday. Perfect timing. The film had its world premiere at the latest edition of IndieLisboa, where it screened in the competitive section Indie Music. During June, the film had its Brazilian premiere at In-Edit Brasil, and was also presented at Sala São Paulo during a special event celebrating Jocy’s 90th anniversary. Over two days, the programme featured a new opera composed by Jocy alongside special screenings of the documentary. By the end of June, the film also participated in CineOP – Ouro Preto Film Festival, one of the most important festivals in Latin America dedicated to archive-based cinema.

I felt this was the right moment to make a film about Jocy because many of the ideas present in her work – technology, experimentation, multimedia performance, the body, the voice, and the role of women in the arts – feel incredibly relevant today. Although she has been a pioneering figure for over six decades, much of her work remains relatively unknown outside specialist circles, particularly in Brazil.

At 90 years old, Jocy continues to create and rethink her own work with remarkable vitality. The film became not only a portrait of an artist, but also an opportunity to revisit an important chapter in the history of experimental music and media art in Brazil through someone who actively lived and shaped it.

I was also personally fascinated by the freedom of her artistic practice, which constantly moves between music, theater, electronics, literature, and visual arts without respecting traditional boundaries.

S&C: Can you expand on the meaning of the title?

DP: The title The Circular Universe reflects both Jocy’s artistic philosophy and the structure of the film itself. Throughout her life and work, ideas, sounds, memories and artistic encounters constantly reappear in different forms, creating a sense of continuous movement between past, present and future. Jocy often says that she has been doing the same thing since childhood, everything keeps transforming, growing and taking on different forms of expression, storytelling and realization, but, in the end, it is always the same impulse, the same story being told.

The title also evokes the cyclical nature of artistic creation in her work, the dialogue between acoustic and electronic music, memory and reinvention, performance and archive. The film itself moves through different moments of her life almost as if navigating constellations connected across time.

S&C: I see the documentary is produced by SESC (Social Service for Commerce). How important were they to the making of the film? 

DP: SescTV was a key partner in the post production of The Circular Universe – Jocy de Oliveira. In addition to providing financial support through co-production, its involvement gave the project the stability and creative freedom needed to develop a film centred on experimental music, archives and cultural memory, themes that are often difficult to fund within more commercial structures.

SESC was already an enthusiast of Jocy de Oliveira’s work; they had previously produced and presented some of the composer’s operas, and in 2008, SESC released a DVD box set featuring some of Jocy’s major operas.

In Brazil, SESC plays a very important cultural role in supporting independent artistic production and preserving artistic memory. They have consistently created space for projects linked to music, contemporary art, theatre, education and documentary cinema. Their long-standing commitment to cultural experimentation has made them the ideal partner for a film like this about Jocy de Oliveira, an artist whose work has always challenged conventions and pushed artistic boundaries.

S&C: How did you select which of Jocy’s pieces to include in the film from Jocy’s vast catalogue of works?

DP: It was an intense process. We edited and re-edited the film several times until we arrived at something we were happy with. I had conducted several other interviews, but in the end I felt it was more important to let Jocy reflect on her own life story in her own words.

Selecting which works to include was one of the film’s greatest challenges, given that Jocy’s artistic output is so vast and multifaceted. Rather than creating a chronological portrait, I sought to follow my instinct and, much like the title itself, create a dialogue with her work and with the non-chronological nature of the events. We focused on works that could reveal the evolution of her artistic thinking and the recurring themes that permeate her entire career.

We were particularly drawn to pieces where she explores the relationship between voice, technology, theatricality and the female presence, central elements in her work. Some compositions were also chosen because they connect directly to important moments in her life, as well as to her exchanges, correspondence and encounters with artists such as John Cage, Luciano Berio, Messiaen, Xenakis and Stravinsky.

Many of her operas and multimedia performances also offered striking visual and sonic possibilities, in which music, space and image become inseparable. Ultimately, the film became less an attempt to summarise her catalogue and more a journey through her artistic universe.

This is my fourth documentary based mainly on archive material, and in previous projects I often struggled to track down the footage, either because it hadn’t been properly preserved, or because I knew it existed but the tapes had been lost or recycled. With Jocy, the experience was completely different.

We are enormously grateful for the generosity of Bernardo Palmeiro, who worked with Jocy for many years and documented many of her performances. He was instrumental in helping us find everything we needed to tell this story. Together, they have carefully preserved and organised an extraordinary archive over several decades, including videos, photographs, programmes and concert catalogues.

An excellent introduction to de Oliveira’s work is this collection compiled by one of the documentary’s producers, Paulo Beto (aka Anvil FX).