Vasco Debritto

The mines of Vasco Debritto’s heart are filled to bursting with the sounds, sights, and tastes of the country he left for good ten years ago. Steeped in bossa nova and MPB since his teens, Debritto made the decision to settle in Japan because, says the composer, “it was very complicated doing music in Brasil--especially the kind of music I do.” Praia dos Corais is Debritto’s second Japanese album, dedicated to Noel Rosa, Dorival Caymmi, Chico Buarque, and Antonio Carlos Jobim. The dedication to the latter is particularly poignant, for Debritto’s voice is so similar to Jobim’s that one inevitably thinks of the late composer whenever Debritto sings (and he does so in every track). Then there’s the album cover, where Vasco in his straw hat and white jacket, posed against sea and trees, is almost a dead ringer for Tom. Like Tom Jobim before him, Vasco Debritto continues to create very Brazilian music even in foreign parts. These days, his inspiration comes in Oiso, a small town on Sagami Bay that used to be the eighth of fifty-three stations along the historic Tokaido road between Edo and Kyoto. As such, Oiso was immortalized in the 19th-century woodblock prints of Hiroshige, Keisai Eisen, and Toyokuni III. No doubt, the beauty of Oiso’s sea and wooded hills helps evoke those of Brazil, in a mysterious alchemy of nature and culture. Thus, conceived in Japan, Praia dos Corais is still a thoroughly Brazilian work. A peculiar attribute of Debritto’s music is that although his songs are new and original, they sound as familiar as Vinicius and Tom's—not imitations but family members. bossa nova and classical MPB fans should delight in them, as I have. “Pindorama” leads off with a tribute to the natural aspects of Brazil, in lyrics that rhapsodize wildlife, clear waters, sun, sky, and music. The lovely feminine chorus in Mauricio Maestro’s vocal arrangement interweave Vasco’s vocals and Fernando Merlino’s piano, wafting the listener to an idyllic universe rarely seen since the palmy days of Vinicius and Quarteto em Cy. Back to reality: “Por um Fio” lands squarely in the poor north, where, despite a gruelling life, people still have the energy to dance a forró and celebrate with a certeza que Deus é um cara bem brasileiro, que nasceu em Belém, o Belém lá do norte, Belém do Pará. “Just look at Me” was inspired by an old article in which Jobim, talking about the famous 1962 bossa-nova concert at Carnegie Hall, suggested that from then on Brazil would be known not just for its coffee and football. The song addresses that ignorance (and prejudice?) in the voice of a Brazilian man who asks an American woman to dance: We are not talking 'bout bananas or jungle farmers in bandanas so I can barely dance a samba and I have never done the rhumba I'm just a guy standing here and I'm wondering why you can't see me. The beautiful bolero “Navegante” tells the story of the internal adventurer who finds himself in deep waters and survives. “Sapateou” is a riotous samba de gafieira, in which the insolent clarinet, tenor sax, trumpet and trombone paint the dancehall scene with great accuracy. “Fiz um Samba” presents the humorous lament of a malandro in love whose inhuman efforts lead only to frustration: No sertão eu fiz chover bicho só faltou falar fiz de tudo; o impossível mudei o meu modo de trajar enfeitei o barraco só pra lhe agradar In a moving duet between Vasco and the marvelous Leticia Carvalho, the ballad “Invenção” expresses the composer’s wish that Brazil could be a different country, without violence, corruption, and poverty. Incidentally, Leticia Carvalho is one of the great underutilized talents of Brazil. The only previous disc in which I’ve heard her is the Guilherme Godoy and Sergio Botto’s independent O Samba Sabe o Que Quer (1998), where she sang a memorable duet with Godoy in the samba de breque “A Loura do Backing.” “Já Passa as Duas” is the anti-fossa song. The protagonist, abandoned by his lover, refuses to become despondent, certain that she’ll return one day: Não caio abatido, nem fico ofegante, não perco os sentidos abro mão do calmante Disfarço essas horas relendo Vinicius: não é assim tão difícil desligar lá de fora The tempo picks up in “Ligando para o Bar,” a latter-day “Conversa de Botequim”—a sort of Noel Rosa/João Bosco hybrid that produces these hilarious lines: E se, também puder fazer a gentileza de botar ali na minha mesa caneta e papel que é pra que eu arrisque alguns versinhos pra Bebel The disc concludes with the title song, where the female chorus returns, as do the images of nature in this call to awakening and growth: Sai da casca, rompe a terra, grão, o germe; sai! abre as asas, viramundo, solta o grito; vai! Although the composer arranged all the tracks, he plays no instrument in any. Most of the accompaniments are anchored by Fernando Merlino (electric piano), Fernando Carvalho (electric guitar), Marcelo Mariano (bass), and Pantico Rocha (drums), with additional instruments as required. Guests Romero Lubambo, Ron Carter, and Paulo Braga take charge in “Navegante” and (with Nilson Matta replacing Carter) in “Fiz um Samba.” Praia dos Corais is a cohesive work made for repeated listening. Audio samples are available on Vasco Debritto’s website. Vasco Debritto: Praia dos Corais (Polystar PJL MTCW-1007; 2001) 37:44 min. All songs by Vasco Debritto 01. Pindorama [RA] 02. Por um Fio 03. Just Look at Me (lyrics by Thomas Walker) [RA] 04. Navegante 05. Sapateou [RA] 06. Fiz um Samba 07. Invenção 08. Já Passa das Duas 09. Ligando para o Bar 10. Praia dos Corais (prologue) 11. Praia dos Corais   Copyright © 2002–2003 Daniella Thompson. All rights re