When Gil began touring in the U.S. in the early 1990s, he told Afropop Worldwide, "For American audiences, we are something new, but I've been in this profession 25 years." It's true: we were missing out. But since that time, we've had an education at the hands of one of the most gifted songwriters and bandleaders in Brazil, or anywhere. Gilberto Gil is so respected by the people of Salvador de Bahia, his home, that they elected him to the city council in the early `90s. Though he's never been a man to shy away from a political challenge, he remains--thankfully--first and foremost a musician. Gil's sound is a deft blend of samba, reggae, and funk, tinged with jazz harmonies. The musical synthesis is absolutely contemporary, but there's an ancient quality in Gil's voice, less silken than that of his friend and collaborator Caetano Veloso, but every bit as poignant, and capable of earthy passion that Veloso can't touch.

On stage, Gil leads his band with a playful elegance, pausing between songs to share his oddly eclectic, philosophical musings about the world before launching into rowdy Brazilian funk or reggae. Gil is as winning a performer as he is a composer, studio artist, and general mediator of modern Brazilian life.

Gil got his start in the 1960's, at time when Brazil was tuning in a world full of change and revolution, even as it fell under strict military rule. His interest in black American music led him to a cultural and political awakening. Gil once recalled, "I was born into a Christian family--black but Christian--educated to forget the African heritage.'' But music by Miles Davis, James Brown, and Stevie Wonder brought Gil face to face with his forgotten identity. In the process, he began to appreciate the unspoken racism in his own society.

"Racism in Brazil hasn't been institutionalized as in North America where you had segregation laws and things like that," said Gil. "There, you had a very clear division and a point to fight against. It's been disguised here. It's subtle." This kind of insight demanded action. Gil began to speak out, finding inventive ways to make people think and act with him. The result was nothing short of popular upheaval, a pan-Brazilian movement people called tropicalia.

Tropicalia thrived in the heady days of Malcolm X, the Beatles, the 1968 riots in France, and US campus unrest. Gil and his best friend and fellow musician, Caetano Veloso, were the movement's spiritual leaders. "We thought that we should adapt in Brazil to the new times, the new era. We should get a Brazilian equivalent.''

Brazilian youth reveled in this carnival brew of art, intellect, and rebellion. The authorities in turn reacted swiftly, first jailing and then exiling Gil and Veloso in 1969. Gil believes it was the very amorphousness of tropicalia that most frightened the powerful. As it turned out, his movement outlasted the military regime. After three years digging around London, hanging out with Jim Capaldi, Alan Watts, and Yoko Ono, Gil returned home with the stature of a forbidden guru.

In addition to performing and recording, Gil held rowdy press conferences to protest Brazil's poverty and racism. He helped to revive afoxe, parading groups that sing secular versions of tribal African hymns derived from candomble, a Brazilian marital art practice with roots in African religion. Gil traveled to Africa where he met Fela Kuti, his Nigerian counterpart as trend-setting bandleader and political hell-raiser. All the while, Gil's music continued to grow and incorporate new influences. When reggae emerged, Gil was smitten, and he set about evolving his own extra smooth Brazilian take on the style. These days, with over 35 albums under his belt, Gil is one of the grand old men of popular Brazilian music (MPB), but all the same youthful currents still flow through his music. In the past decade, Gil has received a good deal of global attention. Many of his older releases have been released internationally, and his new work has been well received. He created a sensation when he performed with Caetano Veloso in 1993, and his expansive and brilliant 1995 release Quanta won a Grammy Award. Gil once complained that an earlier wave of Brazilian music fever in America was too limited in its focus. "They were concentrating on the bossa nova," he said. "And apart from that, they would relate only to samba. The whole thing that we were doing, the tropicalia--Brazilian rhythm & blues, rock `n roll, Brazilian pop electric music--they were not listening to that." Not so anymore. Gil is one of Brazil's most in demand musicians worldwide, and his projects continue to surprise with their sure-footed adventurousness.