#860: caetano veloso - asa branca (1972)
best brow in the brazilian business. and the most beautiful branca, whatever a branca is.


#860: caetano veloso - asa branca (1972)
best brow in the brazilian business. and the most beautiful branca, whatever a branca is.
i can’t be the first to propose not only that president obama could feasibly go on halloween as tropicalia god caetano veloso (look at that barack-like grin!) but that he should on account of the strong signal it would send to brazil and its neighbors about america’s faith in the future of emerging markets, while at the same time displaying to the other nations around the world that american ingenuity, creativity, forward-thinking halloween costume selection, and appreciation for the globe’s late-60s and early-70s psychedelic rock is as strong as ever despite these trying macroeconomic times.
#757: caetano veloso - london london (2007, live)
i don’t want to be too mean to little 11-year-old colton burpo, but if heaven is for real, as the title of the new book from his father and sarah palin’s ghostwriter says it is, i would bet three copies of tropicália: ou panis et circencis that there are no god-men with sparkling sea-blue eyes, only caetano veloso in his denim-blue denim jacket singing about wandering around.
note: to be fair, there happens to be a line in london london about blue eyes and god, but it’s from a verse that goes: “i just happen to be here, and it’s ok/ green grass, blue eyes, grey sky, god bless/ silent pain and happiness/ i came around to say yes, and i say,” so we’re cool. and part of that line is another phrase that’s been on the right column of this page for two years. amen, brothers.
being on vacation is like lounging around naked or eating grapes from the vine—totally resplendent, and wildly relaxing, and without a doubt something one should do only very rarely. these are the albums i’ve been listening to with my family while slouching around this week in massachusetts. not only are they perfect, especially at certain parts of a mid-august day, but they’re available for semi-legal download thanks to glorious blogs like zamboni soundtracks, which, thank god, is back from a long hiatus.
10:35am: harry nilsson’s nilsson schmilsson - i’m sure it’s been said before, but the gotta get up/driving along/early in the morning triptych must be one of history’s great album openers. while you’re showering there’s the coconut/let the good times roll/jump into the fire trio to put even more pep into your already peppy stepping.
12:15pm: ry cooder’s paradise and lunch - over sandwiches you learn everything you need to know about melody, martinis, r&b harmonies, divorcees, tobacco, cornets, and coroners. as if the album needed more heart, ry’s wife painted the cover.
3:30pm: tom zé’s todos os olhos - the only early-70s brazilian album that sounds like the sun, looks like an eye, and turns out to be a marble in an ass.
6:00pm: yo la tengo’s fakebook - sad like dusk, happy like dusk.
8:05pm: caetano veloso’s jóia - good for digestion, great for creaky joints, perfect for easing that summer evening choleric yellow bile feeling in the old gall bladder.
10:55pm: the monkees’ pisces, aquarius, capricorn & jones ltd. - beer drinking music at its finest. was cuddly toy written by 10:35am’s harry nilsson? it was! is pleasant valley sunday 1967’s best song about the suburbs? of course. doesn’t drummer mickey dolenz’s face remind you of my college friend alex nemser? how could it not!
12:05am: blind willie johnson’s sweeter as the years go by - if you meet the special someone who considers this semi-appropriate music to make love to your special someone by, you will know for sure that you have met a very sweet special someone.
caetano veloso’s first three self-titled albums are all tremendous, but the second one—nicknamed irene for its opening song—is as close to the beatles as anyone besides harry nilsson could get. download it here for free, and acknowledge that lost in the paradise is the best 20th century pop song not written in america.
the third album, a little more blue, was recorded when the brazilian fascists exiled him to england in 1969, so it’s very sad. the song about asking his sister maria bathania for news from home is almost impossible to listen to, like a tom waits ballad sung sweetly. meanwhile, the first album has this excellent cover of a cartoon brigitte bardot fighting a dragon over young caetano, but it isn’t as good as the other two.
#452: caetano veloso - aquarela do brasil (1970)
if you can manage to ignore the annoying tv graphic, it’s pretty heavenly to watch caetano veloso (whose first three self-titled albums should be owned and obsessed-over by anyone who likes rubber soul, technicolor, and fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice) quietly sing ary barroso’s famous brasil for seven straight minutes. by minute 4 his voice sounds like cotton, by minute 5 the guitar is carbon dioxide, by the end he’s floating.