Eva Puyuelo Muns
Music
Portuguese is the loving tongue
by Jim Pinckney
ARTHUR VEROCAI (Luv’n’Haight)
APROPA’T, Savath & Savalas (Warp)
Originally recorded and released in 1972 when creative Brazilians were under heavy manners from a repressive military regime, Arthur Verocai’s self-titled debut album is a truly great find by Californian re-issue merchants Luv’n’Haight. Like many Brazilian musicians and composers, the 27-year-old Verocai used figurative language and bold musical experimentation on top of unmistakably Brazilian signatures to gently vent his protest without arousing the interest of the authorities. Verocai had already worked with ground-breaking acts such as Jorge Ben, Gal Costa and MPB4 before receiving the invitation from Continental Records to assume creative control under his own name. The results remain spellbinding over 30 years later.
One of the record’s many highlights is “Presente Grego” (translation, “Greek Gift”), which unashamedly takes its cue from early 70s American soul and funk, with its choppy wah-wah guitar and strident horn arrangements. The lyrics make reference to the legend of the Trojan Horse; the allegorical reference is to the censorship and oppression being practised under the appearance of good government. Verocai’s background in arrangement is at its best here, and also on the instrumental “Sylvia”, which feels like a Brazilian take on David Axelrod’s moody soundtrack-esque excursions.
Several of the album’s 10 tracks take on more traditional domestic styles. But even in the straighter deliveries, there’s nothing standard or throwaway.
Finally wrestled out of the hands of collectors and obsessives (previously fetching over $1000 on eBay for original vinyl), Arthur Verocai is a hidden masterpiece.
Undoubtedly, part of the charm of Verocai’s album is in the beautifully intoned vocals in indecipherable (to these ears) Portuguese. The power of suggestion and the mystery of the exotic can add much to songs that might appear clumsy if the meanings of the lyrics were revealed in translation. Scott Herren’s latest album contains a dozen vocal tunes that, all in Spanish, attempt similarly beguiling atmospheres and probably suitably dismal translations. Herren, operating under his Prefuse 73 monicker, has become the biggest thing in alt-hip-hop since DJ Shadow; he has chosen a completely fresh path for the second Savath & Savalas album.
It’s a record with a backstory. Herren went to Barcelona in a search for the roots of the father he never met. It’s startlingly obvious that (like many before him, including myself) he has become infatuated with the unique culture of the Catalan capital; he has since moved in, musically and physically.
Apropa’t is about as far away from last year’s One Word Extinguisher as possible. It pushes Herren’s melodic sensibilities into the foreground, and only rarely indulges in his trademark tools of rhythmic sonic interference and distortion. It’s an odd melancholic blend that recalls Catalan folk song, early Brazilian psyche-delia and tropicalia. On “Um Girassol Da Cor De Seu Cabello”, Herren and vocalist Eva Puyuelo Muns so vividly reference the Beatles’ classic “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” that it veers perilously close to pastiche. Somehow it works spectacularly. “A La Nit”, “Dejame” and “Radio Llocs Espacials” also stand out with their dreamy Latin moods and rich yet minimal production.
Drawbacks? The vocals are liable to grate for listeners who don’t have much capacity for the South American lullaby style – and there’s a good argument that this could have made a great EP, rather than an interesting album.
But it’s healthy to see Herren (or Guillermo Scott Herren, as he now prefers to be called) expanding his oeuvre. When he can combine this kind of beauty with the 21st-century macro-funk of Prefuse 73, expect to see sparks flying.
