So anyone who's seen The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou or City of God will recognize Seu Jorge as the handsome, dark-skinned actor with the gravelly voice. In Life Aquatic he plays Pele, the Brazilian safety officer on board Zissou's boat and the bard that plays Portuguese language covers of David Bowie songs. Although this is changing, even in Brazil he's better known as an actor than a musician. His second solo album (he used to be in a band called Farofa Carioca), Cru, was released last fall in France and was impossibly hard to find until recently. Tive Razao was the first release from this album and is fairly representative and is the shining peak as well. Based around an acoustic guitar riff and Seu Jorge's multi-tracked vocals, the song just floats in this melancholy haze like some of the best Chico Buarqu de Hollanda ballads. The production on this song (and the album) is much more sparse than the previous album, but much more original as well. Jorge even uses what I think is a theremin to add a slight spookiness to the preceedings. The lyrics mean something like, "I had an excuse" or "I had a reason."

This one fits well with with my previous reccomendation in the melancholy/eerie vein. I read somewhere that the song was in the African JuJu style, but discofied of course given its 1976 production. It was this song that proved to be the Dr. Buzzard . . . was not your average disco band. Cory Daye's vocals are beautiful and harken back to an earlier era of classic jazz vocals, like Ella and Billie. The children's backup vocals are what gives it the spooky quality, probably because the intrumentation is dark, like seeing those cute (but scary) kids come out of the corn fields in Children of the Corn. The last chorus just sends chills down my spine as Cory digs into the lyrics and dances around them as the everything sort or brightens up, like the sun coming out after a summer rain. This makes the title all make such perfect sense.

I didn't entirely get Ed Motta until I listened to this album. For me this is his perfect mix of sacred and profane styles, his soul and his jazz. Only his third album and his first two employ retro styled instrumentation, it sounds like a 1970s session from Luther Vandross without the glitzy disco production. Ed's voice sounds so great paired with the Fender Rhodes which dominates this album. The arrangements are complicated, unpredicatble but entirely accessible. Entre e Ouca, which means "Enter and Listen," has a mid-tempo disco feel with a bouncing bass line, sharp guitar lines and that rhodes. I like his newer, more challenging albums as well, but this sound immediatly speaks to me like the best crafted pop songs.