Close window

Close window

Year END Appeal advertisement
Get our weekly e-Newsletter!
Recent Reviews
Caetano Veloso Nonesuch, 2007

Buy from Amazon.com

Caetano Veloso is Brazil’s Bob Dylan, Burt Bacharach and Paul Simon rolled into one. A poet, a crooner, and a restless chameleon of experimental self-reinvention, he stays fresh as the decades roll on. Here with his first album of original songs in some years, he trades in orchestras and drum troupes for a spare 4-piece rock combo, with support musicians young enough to be his kids. The result is a brilliant shot of Veloso the pop composer, a man who can roll shimmering, bossa nova tamed vocals together with pumped, even punky guitar vamps, and dream like angst poetry about the aging of sexual passions, and tie it all up with a catchy little hook that leaves you humming.

From the spiky, pumped vamp of “Outro (Other)” to the slowly pendulous, keyboard based confessions of “Não me Arrependo (I Don’t Regret),” and the wah-wah samba funk of “Musa Hibrida (Hybrid Muse)” there are no false moves here. When Veloso established himself in Brazil in the 60s and 70s as a principle muse in the psychedelic tropicalista movement, the Beatles were an important model. No surprise then that one still detects McCartneyisms in his vocal melodies, notably the swooping high passages in “Minhas Lágrimas (My Tears).” Veloso’s young collaborators bring echoes of more recent rock stylings, The Police and even punk rock in the pounding pulse of “Odeio (I Hate).” Lest anyone imagine Veloso in youth drag here, the lyrics, including the refrain “I hate you,” reveal the bitter, unsentimental complaint of an older man desiring, but shunned by beautiful youth. Underscoring Veloso’s simultaneous affection and alienation from youth, the contrast of his own polished, mannerly vocals and Pedro Sá’s edgy electric guitar solos is delicious every time. Even as he updates on his tropicalista roots, Veloso preserves the dignity and elegant sophistication of the old master he is.

This review was adapted and expanded from one written for the Boston Phoenix.


Contributed by Banning Eyre