Do you remember the first time music made you cry? How about the time when you first learned how utterly immense the universe is? Or kissed someone you knew you would never see again? Are you still able to recall those impossible and lonely and ecstatic moments? Are you capable of opening your heart to wonder? Then welcome to Nós and the world of Virgínia Rodrigues. This album is to touch whatever we used to think of as God.
Start with the concept, which is a little hard to figure out from the packaging: Rodrígues, her mentor Caetano Veloso, and Celso Fonseca (an arranger and producer to rival Brian Wilson) have chosen popular Carnaval songs from Bahia - most of them invocations to various saints in the Afro-Brazilian candomblé religion - and recast them in classical terms. Tunes that are usually chanted to samba and afoxé rhythms by semi-literate and oppressed people suddenly reveal themselves to have the beauty and heft of mahogany, and Rodrigues' axe-sharp voice carves them into new forms of folksong sculpture. If it seems like I'm piling on the metaphors here it's because I don't know what else to do. This music is almost too transcendent to describe.
It's better to take on the tracks individually, and one example, I hope, will suffice, or I will have to discuss them all. The track we'll look at is "Salvador não inerte," where the opening is just simple acoustic guitar arpeggios and a string quartet backing a simple melody. But that melody is being sung by That Voice, and that makes all the difference. You think you've landed in Björk's sweetest Amazon dream - until the drums come in. Instead of the usual battering - ram of Brazilian rhythm, however, all the percussion is gentle, sweet, and intricate, like waves lapping up against the shore as Rodrigues initiates us into the world of candomblé: "Olodum negro elite é magnitude/Deslumbrante por ter magnitude," or "The spirit of Olodum is Negritude/Overwhelming in its magnitude." This song has actually healed my sinus headaches.
This happens time and time again: Fonseca comes up with perfect gold settings, and Rodrigues places her rough-cut diamond voice right in the middle. You know this is a timeless piece of art when Veloso's only vocal track is the weakest moment on the album. What can I say against it? Too much usage of the rain-stick? You won't even care about that. This album IS candomblé, it IS black Bahian Brazil, it IS dignity and soul.
It's proud brave stuff and I'm having a hard time listening to anything else. I haven't heard anything better or more breath-taking this year, and I don't expect to.
If you like Virginia Rodrigues, check out:
Virginia Rodrigues Sol Negro
Zuco 103 Outro Lado
Caetano Veloso Prenda Minha
Caetano Veloso Livro
Gilberto Gil & Jorge Ben Gil E Jorge-Ogun/Xango
Milton Nascimento & Lô Borges Clube da Esquina
Björk Telegram
Os Mutantes Everything Is Possible
Elvis Costello Imperial Bedroom
Talk Talk Spirit of Eden
Frederica von Stade Chants d'Auvergne
