You know, sometimes you just run out of electrons…

I was going to discuss both Ella Fitzgerald and bossa nova this week, but I’ve got so much to say about the latter that I’m going to have to bump Ella by a week or two… So much good music; so little time!

Bossa Nova

I’ll be honest with you.  I’ve got a soft spot in my jazz heart for bossa nova.  This is a story in three parts; indulge the story and I promise I’ll get to the music…

Part one goes back maybe 40 years, to early in my childhood.  As I’ve said elsewhere, I grew up in a working class row house in Philly.  Well, my mother’s only sibling married a man who had a white-collar job, and they moved to South Jersey and had a middle class suburban lifestyle.  And my uncle, with his cutting-edge reel-to-reel tape player and Hi-Fi, liked bossa nova.  Played it every time we visited.  Now, I’d be lying if I said that I particularly associate the music with happy memories at my godparents’ house.  No, on that strange visceral level at which kids operate, I associated the music not so much with my relatives as with their lifestyle, with having made it, with suburbia: singing its siren song to a kid whose parents fought regularly over how to pay the bills, whose father had to moonlight to make ends meet, who grew up in a neighborhood where gang violence and increasing crime were everyday occurrences and who wanted to grow up, go to college and escape it all for those clean, green lawns and trees and nary a police siren or drug pusher or gang member.

And somehow mixed in with all those issues bossa nova became the soundtrack of success, so that every time I settle down and play a CD I feel like I’ve made it in life; the old hot buttons from childhood still operating on an emotional level even if I have a more sophisticated political / economic worldview.  It’s “comfort food” for my ears.

Part two goes back not quite 25 years, to when I was first discovering I liked jazz, and first met my wife.  I discovered that those old songs from my childhood had lyrics, and very romantic lyrics at that.  And so bossa nova became the soundtrack of my courtship (not exclusively, but certainly during candlelight dinners for two in the grad school student apartment world):

Corcovado*

Quiet nights of quiet stars quiet chords from my guitar
floating on the silence that surrounds us.

Quiet thoughts and quiet dreams quiet walks by quiet streams, and a window that looks out on the mountains and the sea, oh how lovely…

This is where I want to be here with you so close to me
until the final flicker of life’s ember –

I who was lost and lonely believing life was only a bitter tragic joke, have found with you, the meaning of existence, oh my love.

*Corcovado is a mountain in Rio.

Part three goes back only maybe a little more than five years, to my midlife crisis and changing worldview.   In with all of that I started really getting into both jazz and progressive politics beyond tree-hugging environmentalism, and found out that bossa nova is essentially the soundtrack of the Camelot era, and so bossa nova has taken on another layer of meaning for me as representing the lost innocence and optimism of the early 1960’s for two nations that musically reached across continents to each other in friendship and hope, before their worlds got crazy and that moment was lost.  (In addition to the situation in the U.S. changing after November 1963, Brazil was in a period of democratization and modernization in the 1950’s – represented by the modernist architecture of the capital, Brasilia – which ended with a military coup in 1964).  And perhaps for my own lost innocence as well.

Get to the music already!

So – what is this music I’ve been babbling about?  For those that have been following along weekly, you’ve probably picked up that swing was the popular style in the 1940’s (think Benny Goodman) and bebop the popular style in the 1950’s (think John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk, etc.).  By the late 1950’s, the bebop movement was losing some steam, and a “cool jazz” sound had sprung up on the West Coast (think Stan Getz; if you don’t know who that is, don’t
worry, just come back next week or the week after).  Here we’ll pick up the story as described on the Verve Records website:

In the early 1950s, Brazilian musicians including Antonio Carlos Jobim, João Gilberto, and Luíz Bonfa, were exposed to jazz records from the popular West Coast, or cool jazz style. By the late 1950s, these musicians had blended elements of the Brazilian samba rhythm, commonly heard in parades and street music, with the delicate sound and harmonic approach of cool jazz, creating a charming and subdued, but harmonically advanced “bossa nova” (translation: “new beat”) style. The early 1960s was a period of transition for jazz and popular music. …Prior to the British invasion by the Beatles and the development of the Motown sound that eventually swept the record industry, the bossa nova emerged as a new musical direction in both jazz and popular genres. In 1962, the bossa nova was introduced to America by guitarist Charlie Byrd, who had toured Brazil and became immersed in the idiom. His recording with saxophonist Stan Getz, Jazz Samba, became an immediate popular success, spawning the birth of the bossa nova style.

Soon other jazz musicians, including saxophonists Coleman Hawkins and Sonny Rollins and flutist Herbie Mann, began making bossa nova recordings. By the mid-1960s, bossa nova compositions including Jobim’s “Girl From Ipanema” and “Wave” had become standard within the jazz repertoire. Today, a new generation of Brazilian musicians continue to weave floating melodies and hypnotic grooves founded in the bossa nova style. Current artists include Vinicius Cantuária, Ivan Lins, Djavan, Gilberto Gil, Milton Nascimento, and Eliane Elias.

Well, that says it all very succinctly, but I’d be shortchanging you if I didn’t give you more details.  In particular, Antonio Carlos Jobim is a key figure in the history of bossa nova that I want to tell you more about (as I said, I’ll discuss Stan Getz – and his collaborations with Gilberto – as part of an upcoming jazz jam)

Jobim was born January 25, 1927 in Rio De Janeiro, Brazil.  He was a composer, singer, arranger, and pianist; his music, as performed by Gilberto and the Americans noted above led to bossa nova becoming a worldwide craze for several years.

His musical roots were in the native music of Brazil, but influenced by the classical impressionism of Debussy and American jazz.  His big break came in the mid-1950s, when he collaborated with the Brazilian poet and lyricist Vinicius de Moraes on the music for the play Orfeu de Carnaval (1956), that later gained world-wide recognition as the film “Black Orpheus.”

Jobim is recognized the world over as one of the most influential composers of the 20th century; he died December 8, 1994 in New York and is buried in his hometown of Rio.

Well-known songs by Jobim include “The Girl from Ipanema” (Ipanema is a beach in Rio), “Wave,” “One Note Samba,” “Corcovado” (“Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars” – lyrics above), “Insensatez” (“How Insensitive”), “Desafinado” (“Off Key”), “No More Blues,” “Triste” (Sadness), “Fotografia” (“Photograph”), and “Águas de Março” (“Waters of March”).

His lyrics covered the range from the romantic (see above) to the poignant (“How Insensative”)…

How insensitive I must have seemed
When she told me that she loved me
How unmoved and cold
I must have seemed
When she told me so sincerely
Why? She must have asked
Did I just turn and stare in icy silence?
What was I to say
What can you say
When a love affair is over
Now she’s gone away
And I’m alone
With a memory of her last look
Vague and drawn and sad
I see it still
All her heartbreak in that last look
How, she must have asked
Could I just turn and stare in icy silence
What was I to do
What can you do
When a love affair is over

…to even the Zen / Taoist inspired “Waters of March”. (March is the month the dry season ends in Brazil, a time of renewal in nature):

A stick, a stone, it’s the end of the road
It’s the rest of a stump, it’s a little alone
It’s a sliver of glass, it is life, it’s the sun
It is night, it is death, it’s a trap, it’s a gun
The oak when it blooms, a fox in the brush
A knot in the wood, the song of a thrush
The wood in the wind, a cliff, a fall
A scratch, a lump, it is nothing at all
It’s the wind blowing free, it’s the end of the slope
It’s a beam it’s a void, it’s a hunch, it’s a hope
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It’s the end of the strain
The joy in your heart
The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone
The beat of the road, a slingshot’s stone
A fish, a flash, a silvery glow
A fight, a bet the range of a bow
The bed of the well, the end of the line
The dismay in the face, it’s a loss, it’s a find
A spear, a spike, a point, a nail
A drip, a drop, the end of the tale
A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light
The sound of a shot in the dead of the night
A mile, a must, a thrust, a bump,
It’s a girl, it’s a rhyme, it’s a cold, it’s the mumps
The plan of the house, the body in bed
And the car that got stuck, it’s the mud, it’s the mud
A float, a drift, a flight, a wing
A hank, a quail, the promise of spring
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It’s the promise of life, it’s the joy in your heart
A stick, a stone, it’s the end of the road
It’s the rest of a stump, it’s a little alone
A snake, a stick, it is John, it is Joe
It’s a thorn in your hand and a cut in your toe
A point, a grain, a bee, a bite
A blink, a buzzard, a sudden stroke of night
A pin, a needle, a sting a pain
A snail, a riddle, a wasp, a stain
A pass in the mountains, a horse and a mule
In the distance the shelves rode three shadows of blue
And the river talks of the waters of March
It’s the promise of life in your heart
A stick, a stone, the end of the road
The rest of a stump, a lonesome road
A sliver of glass, a life, the sun
A knife, a death, the end of the run
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It’s the end of all strain, it’s the joy in your heart

A site from Emory University notes that, interestingly, the English translation above is longer than the original Portuguese version.  Jobim added lyrics to the song when it made the transition to English. If you speak Portuguese, you will also notice at the link that some of the English lyrics bear no resemblance to the original lyrics. For example, the fourth stanza more properly translates to “It is wood that resists the wind, the falls of the riverbank, it’s the profound mystery, it’s wanting or not wanting.” Those last lines echo chapter 1 of the Tao Te Ching, which states “…Free from desire you realize the mystery.  Caught in desire you see only the manifestations…  Mystery within mystery (or “profound mystery”): The gateway to all understanding.”  

Some time ago, “Waters of March” was selected in a Brazilian poll as the most popular Brazilian song of all time.

Exploring Bossa Nova For Yourself

So, what albums do I recommend if you want to try out bossa nova?  Here are a handful for a starter, with comments:

1.  Jazz Impressions of Black Orpheus – Vince Guaraldi Trio – 1962

This album includes the better known pieces from Black Orpheus, as well as some non-bossa nova, including Guaraldi’s “Cast Your Fate to the Wind.”  It was the album which was his big break – although he is best known today for all the music he composed/performed for the animated “Peanuts” TV specials.  Guaraldi is a jazz great in his own right that I hope to discuss soon.  (So much jazz, so little time!)

Alternates:  The actual movie soundtrack for Black Orpheus is available; it includes bird calls, street musicians at Carnaval, and other sounds from the movie in addition to the music.  A more recent interpretation of the Black Orpheus music was released in 1994 by Trio da Paz, called, simply, “Black Orpheus.”  It’s also a good listen.

2.  Jazz Samba – Stan Getz (sax) and Charlie Byrd (guitar) – 1962

The album that introduced America to bossa nova.  A must-listen.  A classic.  I had almost forgotten how great this album is until I heard the sound clips in the link and the memories came rushing back…  Oh yeah, that album!   So light, fresh, and innocent – so 1962 (sigh).

3.  Sabia – Susannah McCorkle (vocalist) – Wonderful 1990 CD all bossa nova tunes by the late vocalist.  Sound clips available here.  As one reviewer on Amazon commented:

I purchased this cd because I heard some excerpts from it on “Fresh Air” with host Terri Gross. The program was a memorial to Susanna McCorkle aired shortly after her untimely death.  She has such an expressive voice that the songs really touched me. I am not a particularly sentimental person but they really created a mood for me and I believe that McCorkle had one of the truly great female voices of the 20th century.

  1.  Getz / Gilberto – featuring Jobim on piano, and released in 1964.  This CD is up there on my (and many other people’s) “CDs to take to a desert island” list.  It’s a classic.  Enjoy.
  2.  Stone Flower – A. C. Jobim – 1970 – Compared to the early works noted above, or Jobim’s somewhat later albums “Wave” (1967) and the follow-up album “Tide” (1970), (in which Jobim was growing beyond the confines of strict bossa nova) this album stands out for me musically as capturing both the innocence and the melancholy just beneath the surface gaiety in much of Jobim’s music, as well as his melodic genius.  Stone Flower was one of Jobim’s favorite albums; shortly before his death he commented to Deodato, his arranger, that “I think it still sounds very modern.”  It’s interesting to see how far the music had changed from 1962’s Getz / Byrd “Jazz Samba” (above) to this album – as big a musical evolution as Miles Davis or the Beatles made.  Amazon says of this under-rated gem:

The American producer Creed Taylor produced some of the best recordings Antonio Carlos Jobim ever made. Taylor’s lush strings, evocative woodwinds, and selection of top-notch jazz musicians were a perfect match for Jobim’s spare, bossa nova-flavored compositions. This 1970 recording features Jobim backed by bassist Ron Carter, trombonist Urbie Green, flutist Hubert Law, and soprano saxophonist Joe Farrell. Several classics, such as “Children’s Games,” the lilting “Tereza My Love,” and the two soft samba/swing renditions of Ary Barroso’s “Brazil,” are lovingly draped in the velvet arrangements of the then-young Brazilian sensation Eumir Deodato. Jobim’s dry and achy vocals, along with his acoustic and rarely heard electric-piano playing, add the right sonic seasoning to this delightful disk.

I’m feeling a little verklempt… Talk amongst yourselves…

So: What music has a special place in the soundtrack of your autobiography?

P.S. – Schedule for next 2 weeks:  10/28 – Stan Getz, Bela Fleck; 11/4 – Ella Fitzgerald, Vince Guaraldi

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