Favorite Albums of 2023

Looking back over my previous top ten lists, 2023 holds up well. The longer I’ve been at this, the more proficient I’ve gotten to finding good albums thanks to a mix of algorithms and sources. Also my ears get more and more attuned to the aural feel of music from Brazil: whenever I take a break from Brazil, it’s not too long before I miss the cadences of its sounds. Eventually I’ll stop doing this. (I actually put out fewer posts in 2023 than I did in any previous year.) But even when I stop doing the blog, I’m confident I’ll listen to the music I’ve discovered through it until I can’t listen to anything anymore.

But enough about me and the blog. What about 2023?

First, as always, take the “favorite” seriously. I’m long past trying for any whiff of objectivity or expertise in these things. This is just stuff I liked. You may or may not. You might be thrilled at one of those B- albums I like fine but will never actually listen to again. I’m tempted to follow Chris Monsen’s lead and not rank stuff. But I know some people like the numbers game. I guess I do, too. So the albums graded A- or higher are ranked. The B+ albums, however are alphabetical. I did put a * by a few of the ones closest to the top.

This year’s A-list has plenty of old favorites. Two Clube members land three albums, including that Fróes record that only I seemed to love. Marina Sena could well be setting herself up for a decade dominating run. Patrícia Bastos and Adriana Calcanhotto reminded what talents they can be. Jards Macalé leaned into his second collaboration with the Clube da Encruza for perhaps the best album of his career. But the A-list also includes five artists I’d never heard or heard of before this year as well as three I had merely passing knowledge of. The well of great music from Brazil doesn’t seem anywhere close to drying up, and given that culture’s love of music—perhaps only surpassed by football—there’s no reason to think it ever will.

As I said in my 2023 playlist post, music from Brazil is more varied than Anglophone marketing would have you believe, so below find 33 albums, some of which will fit exactly what you expect with that term as well many more that will expand your horizons on what Brazilian musicians do. I hope you love this stuff half as much as I do.

A-List

1. Filipe Catto, Belezas São Coisas Acesas por Dentro (A)
2. Ricardo Dias Gomes, Muito Sol (A)
3. Marina Sena, Vício Inerente (A-)
4. Patrícia Bastos, Voz da Taba (A-)
5. Romulo Fróes and Tiago Rosas, Na Goela (A-)
6. Anne Jezini, Em Fuga (A-)
7. Rodrigo Campos, Pagode Novo (A-)
8. Slipmami, Malvatrem (A-)
9. Febem, Fleezus and CESRV, Brime! (Deluxe Edition) (A-)
10. Ian Ramil, Tetein (A-)
11. Jards Macalé, Coração Bifurcado (A-)
12. Adriana Calcanhotto, Errante (A-)
13. YMA and Jadsa, Zelena (A-)
14. Cabezadenego, Mbé and Leyblack, Mimosa (A-)
15. Romulo Fróes and Rodrigo Campos, Elefante (A-)
16. Os Tincoãs, Canto Coral Afrobrasileiro (A-)
17. María Freitas & Jazz das Minas, Ayé Òrun (A-)

Honorable Mentions (B+)

• Ana Frango Elétrico, Me Chama de Gato Que Eu Sou Sua
• Bixarte, Traviarcado
• Rodrigo Brandão, Outros Estado*
• Sophia Chablau e Uma Enorme Perda da Tempo, Música do Esquecimento*
• Dossel, Badoque
• Fleezus, Off Mode
• Nei Lopes, Nei Lopes 80
• Carlos Lyra, Afeto
• Nuven, Zero
• Rodrigo Ogi, Aleatoriamente
• Ná Ozzetti, Zécarlos Ribeiro and Danilo Penteado, Ná Canta Zécarlos Ribeiro
• Sara Não Tem Nome, A Situação*
• Tasha & Tracie, Kyan and Rapper Gregory, Yin Yang
• Thrills & the Chase, Thrills After Dark*
• Tori, Descese
• Anna Vis, Como Um Bicho Vê

Favorite Brazilian, er, albums? of 2021

I know it’s a cliche to say we live in weird times, but we do. Democratic decay. Increasingly chaotic climate. Pandemic that won’t end. And even in the smaller things, what was is no more. Or isn’t in the same way.

So. What’s an album?

I used to buy them. Vinyl, then compact disc. But lots of them now only exist in digital format, which fogies like me then ‘burn’ to CDRs. And then there are things in digital format that aren’t technically classified as albums, but are kind of indistinguishable if you think about it. Making the best of pandemic circumstances, a lot of artists started streaming concerts and such. Many are, conveniently, about the length you expect an album to be. So, are they albums? Well they are here. Three longtime faves: Romulo Fróes, Metá Metá and Iara Rennó released pandemic-inspired projects that figured out how to make art when collaboration was compromised by Covid. Fróes revisited his catalog and played solo show recaps of albums as he either wandered or staked out a spot in a seemingly empty São Paulo. Metá Metá tried a series of solo and group shows, including an improvisatory one with Marcelo Cabral. Rennó did stripped down collaborations in safe conditions, sometimes via computer video. In all three cases, the artists didn’t just fill time or space, but made compelling music. Why not list it?

There are plenty of traditional albums, and I’m thrilled I just tracked down a CD version of my favorite of the year for a reasonable price. The Brazilian store I used to buy from doesn’t seem to ship internationally anymore and hasn’t replied to my e-mails. That leaves mostly overpriced options that bust my budget. So willingly or not, I’m being dragged into a streaming era where I will never hold a copy of beloved music like that Marina Sena I keep hoping to find. But without streaming, Brazil Beat wouldn’t exist because most of this music never would have gotten to ears. So, yay streaming, I guess.

The real question is what music should get to your ears? Here’s my recommendations for the year summed up. I’ve reviewed everything here but the new Veloso (be patient). You can often find links to albums with the reviews I posted.

The first 14 are ordered by preference. These are all the albums I rate A- or higher. The rest are B+ albums, and they are organized alphabetically. Despite dialing back how much I review this year, I still found 31 Brazilian albums I liked a lot. But making great music is what Brazilian musicians do year in and year out. Here’s my little attempt to get the world to notice more.

Favorite albums

1. Mariá Portugal, Erosão
2. Marina Sena, De Primeira
3. Romulo Fróes, Agora é Minha Voz: Um Labirinto em Cade Pé
4. Jadsa, Olho de Vidro
5. Batuqueiros e Sua Gente with Douglas Germano, Partido Alto
6. Metá Metá and Marcelo Cabral, Oritá Metá: Ore
7. BaianaSystem, OxeAxeExu
8. Mariana Aydar and Fejuca, Aqui em Casa (Vol. 1)
9. Marisa Monte, Portas
10. Caetano Veloso, Meu Coco
11. Romulo Fróes, Agora é Minha Voz: Calado
12. Iara Rennó, Pra te Abraçar (video concerts version)
13. Don L, Roteiro pra Aīnouz (Vol. 2)
14. Alessandra Leão, Acesa

Honorable Mention

• Rodrigo Amarante, Drama
• Aurinha do Coco, Eu Avistei
• Rodrigo Brandão and Sun Ra Arkestra, Outros Espaço
• A Espetacular do Charanga França, Nunca Não É Carnaval
• Thiago França, Bodiado
• Thiago França & A Espetacular Charanga do França, The Importance of Being Espetacular
• Romulo Fróes, Agora é Minha Voz: Barulho Feío
• Romulo Fróes, Agora é Minha Voz: Cão
• Romulo Fróes, Agora é Minha Voz: No Chão Sem o Chão
• Romulo Fróes, Agora é Minha Voz: O Disco das Horas
• Romulo Fróes, Aquele Nenhum/Ó Nóis
• Febem, Jovem OG
• Índio da Cuica, Malandro 5 Estrelas
• Juçara Marçal, Delta Estácio Blues
• Metá Metá, Oritá Metá: Igba
• Metá Metá, Oritá Metá: Ori Metá
• Antônio Neves, A Pegada Agora É Essa (That Sway Now)

2021, Part Three

Bebé Salvego, Bebé – This debut album from the 17-year-old traffics in fractured R&B filtered through the oddball sensibilities of the singer and producer/Metá Metá collaborator Sérgio Machado (d.b.a. Plim). Salvego mumbles and moans in the depressed style that is the norm these days, while she deftly balances the pop and the alienating in an album full of tasty sounds. (Is that the Roots sampled on “00:01”?) Top track is “Vácuo” whose nervous rhythm is welded to a ticking guitar in the best early ’80s DOR fashion. A promising weirdo to watch. Listen here. Grade: B

Febem, Jovem OG – São Paulo rapper Febem (Felipe Desiderio) again teams with producer CESRV (César Augusto Pierre) for ten tracks in under 30 minutes that range from hard to spooky to melancholy. Dense and gritty like their city, Febem’s staccato flow rides the beat solidly while CESRV surrounds the rhythms with atmospherics to unnerve and settle. Jovem translates as young, so the title’s both funny and arrogant, which is very hip hop. As ever with Brazilian rap music, translations get across words without the contextual meaning that animates the lived listening of the national audiences, but for those of us on the other side of the language barrier, there’s plenty to please. Listen here. Grade: B+

Thiago França & A Espetacular Charanga do França, The Importance of Being Espetacular – Collecting 12 tracks from six releases—plus a new track (a cover of Michael Jackson’s “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough”!) to lure in owners of those six—sax player Thiago França assembles a sort of best-of for his brass band. Sort of because it favors the handful of vocal tracks for this mainly instrumental outfit because França or the compilers know brass bands need all they help they can get in the market. While the band’s first three EPs make for a stronger set, this overview neatly presents a different angle on the band. But this is the one for sale, and since they guy still makes almost everything he’s recorded available for free from his website, do him a solid and buy this, then download those three. When I started Brazil Beat, marching band was the least of my interests, but França has won me over, and outside his work with Metá Metá, A Espetacular is his most consistently engaging project. Buy here. Grade: B+

Juçara Marçal, Delta Estácio Blues – In the popular, even the semipopular, arts, the career arc tends toward youthful creativity followed by a stretched out maturity modulating those innovations. Marçal is anything but normal. Her recording career didn’t begin until she was past 35 and then it did so with the pleasant, if tame, vocal stylings of Vesper, followed by the slightly dusty, if fascinating, archeo-ethnographic A Barca. Then, bearing down of 50, she met Kiko Dinucci, from which followed the kind of music kids make in the youth before settling into hollow retreads as they try to eke out a living from professional bohemianism. The two quickly allied with Thiago França to form Metá Metá and then with Rodrigo Campos, Romulo Fróes and Marcelo Cabral to form the Clube da Encruza collective. Her first solo album was very much in the Metá Metá vein. Here, still working with Dinucci, she heads in new directions with electronics providing the clash and abrasion to get her avant-samba across. She celebrates thieves and rebels, lovers and broken hearts. Her blues isn’t music but a state of being as real for many today as it was for those Mississippi Delta residents who transmuted suffering to art in order to get by. If the end result is less astonishing than the superb Encarndo, it’s still powerful, vital stuff from an artist nearing 60 who—like Tom Zé and Elza Soares—seems to take more risks the older she gets. Must be something in the water down there. Or the music. Or the politics. Sure beats whatever’s turning out Claptons and Morrisons. Listen here. Grade: B+

Meridian Brothers and Conjunto Media Luna, Paz en la Tierra – More off-kilter rad-trad music from Colombia’s merry prankster, this time with accordionist Iván Medellín, whose instrument sits at the center of this album. Musically and lyrically, little here lives up to the album’s title. The wobbling bass, aggressive accordion and monotone singing grate rather than ingratiate.  In a good way, of course. Making noise sing is Elbis Álvarez‘s specialty.  Here that music matches grim lyrics that take you through nightmares, oppression, crime-ridden streets, and all the quotidian horrors that mark bad politics. But the title track offers hope without ignoring the bleakness. Álvarez’s experiments sometimes get in the way of his art, but Medellín proves a valuable collaborator keeping the songs just straight enough so that the bad vibes work as a party political rather than dry thesis. Listen here. Grade: B+

Marina Sena, De Primeira – Brazilian musicians have long raided north for beats and sounds, with hip hop and EDM being just the latest examples. But perhaps not since they heyday of Tim Maia and Jorge Ben has a Brazilian so effortlessly incorporated American R&B and funk as Marina Sena does on her solo debut. Which is a bit of a surprise. Her solid, but not spectacular, work with poppers Rosa Neon and rockers A Outro Banda Da Lua gave little hint she had this kind of charisma and focus. Sun-soaked funk with reggae and samba flavorings, light and airy without disembodying the beat, the music is a constant up. Her slightly pinched voice could sell the music short, but she works it to make it alluring rather than annoying. She falls in love at first sight, she’s touched, she gets aroused, she consummates, she’s enraptured. There’s hardly a cloud in the sky as she soaks up the pleasures around her. Given the political and social crises wrenching Brazil, the bright, hopeful mood here may seem out of tune, but, with producer Iuri Rio Branco, Sena crafts a reminder of why the crises are worth enduring and overcoming: that look, that touch, that love. The stuff of life. Listen here. Grade: A

Tasha & Tracie, Diretoria – Debut EP from the twin sisters Okereke builds off their collaboration with Ashira while broadening their sound. In grand hip hop fashion their success and self-love is politicized by their marginalization as black women, and they don’t try to excuse the connection between the two. Cycling through producers, these seven tracks cohere around their voices and words, which is why celebrating their success sounds so appropriate. Listen here. Grade: B.