Moreno Veloso +2: Music Typewriter

Long relegated to the lounge-music bins, Brazilian music has made an impressive comeback in the past several years. No longer considered the stuff of easy listening, the resurgence of iconoclastic Tropicalia pioneers Tom Zé and Caetano Veloso has demonstrated just how much some Brazilian music constitutes uneasy listening. These geniuses took the samba and bossa nova forms of South American music to suit their own purposes, like magicians twisting balloons into impossible shapes. The quirky tendencies of Tropicalia might have threatened to push the Brazilian music trend to the other end of the spectrum, from kitsch to indulgent experimentation, but artists keep finding new ways to keep the music fresh and exciting. Veloso's son Moreno makes an auspicious debut with Music Typewriter, which vacillates from somber ballads to strange electronics with the confidence of his father's records. At 28, Moreno doesn't seem to lack ambition: In addition to his seemingly innate singing and songwriting abilities, he holds a doctorate in physics. No surprise, then, that in addition to his spare band, Moreno enlists noteworthy guest musicians, who help gussy up his music in an even more contemporary guise. The album flows from quiet ballads such as "Sertão" and "Deusa do Amor" to the crazy drum-machine rhythms of "Enquanto Isso" and "Arrivederci," concluding with, of all things, a sad reading of "I'm Wishing" (from Disney's Snow White). Vinicius Cantuária isn't as young as Moreno Veloso—he rose to prominence as a songwriter for the likes of Caetano Veloso in the '70s—but since relocating to New York, Cantuária has experienced something of a rebirth. While some might decry the corrupting influence of his New York musician friends, Cantuária's adventurous collaborators have helped him create his masterpiece. Vinicius is every bit as beautiful and smooth as Sade's work, immaculately polished by producer Lee Townsend and featuring players such as Bill Frisell, Brad Mehldau, Marc Ribot, Joey Baron, and longtime Brazilian-music supporter David Byrne. Cantuária frames his heartbreaking compositions with modest acoustic guitar, letting the other players work around sad songs like "Clichê do Clichê," "Irapurú," and the piano jazz of "Nova de Sete," with stunning results.