His first album; released in 1967 by Philips.
‘On the eve of the rise of Tropicalismo and electric guitars, the Bahian artist’s guitar is the star of the arrangements orchestrated by Carlos Monteiro e Souza, Dori Caymmi, and Leonardo Bruno. Social, political, and religious issues are transformed into sambas, bossa nova, and classic carnival song, as well as Northeastern rhythms. Gil calls for the people’s attention on the title track, a formidable collaboration with Torquato Neto, also co-author of A Rua, a precocious and bittersweet nostalgic baião. His passion for Bahia spreads like the waters in the lyrical Beira-Mar, composed with Caetano Veloso. Equally poetic is Gil’s vision of the Soviet spacecraft’s moon landing in Lunik 9: ‘Maybe there’s no more moonlight to illuminate my song.’. The young people are called to see truth prevail in a carnival filled with political significance in ‘Ensaio Geral.’ Ancient festivities are recalled in O Rancho da Rosa Vermelha, written with Torquato and Geraldo Vandré, while samba schools get a shout out in Mancada, a great samba full of bossa nova. Written with João Augusto, the brilliant Roda stands out for its rhythmic inventiveness and critical lyrics. A celebration of northeastern resistance, Viramundo is a collaboration with Capinan, as is the nostalgic Água dos Meninos. The simple Maria (Me Perdoa, Maria) is the album’s romantic moment. Sertanejo faith and its social contours are the theme of Procissão, one of Gilberto Gil’s most beautiful and important songs, which closes the album.’

‘At 36 years old, in exuberant form, revisiting songs of his which hit for other artists, like Bastidores (which revived Cauby Peixoto’s career) and Morena de Angola (a smash for Clara Nunes). Released in December 1980, when Brazil was rehearsing its redemocratization even in the throes of continuing political violence, Vida dicloses an artist emerging from censorship. In the irresistible dancehall samba Deixa a Menina, he relishes a feminist response to Geraldo Pereira’s syncopated classic Sem Compromisso: ‘Behind a sad man, there’s always a happy woman / And behind that woman, a thousand men, always so kind.’ The Cubano title track spotlights a character near death, looking back with bittersweet ambivalence, and tightly holding on. ‘Light, I want light,’ sings Chico, threading Goethe’s famous last words into the sublime orchestration of Francis Hime, who creates the masterful arrangements on ten of the twelve songs, elucidating the delicacy of classics like Mar e Lua and Qualquer Canção, and lending the appropriate grandeur to Fantasia. Tom Jobim contributes the arrangement and piano of the masterpiece Eu Te Amo, co-written with Buarque. Another triumph is the bolero-style Bye Bye, Brasil, co-written with Roberto Menescal, humorously reviewing the profound transformation of Brazil during the previous decade.’

A bonafide MPB classic.

Proper socialist to the bone. Great novelist, too.

His second LP is foundational bossa. With the spotlight on acoustic guitar and his caressing voice, these are spare, intimate renditions of songs which would become much-versioned standards, severally revisited by Valle himself. Listen out for the blueprints of Astrud Gilberto’s hits The Face I Love and So Nice, for example.

Astrud’s second Verve, branching out into jazz and American vocal staples, thankfully interwoven with five songs by Luiz Bonfá. Her signature emotional discretion and understated musical cool are played against the fluttering flutes and shaded strings of broad orchestral arrangements by Don Sebesky, Claus Ogerman, and João Donato. Produced by Creed Taylor;

‘Recorded in February and March of 1963, reuniting Stan Getz with Brazilian musicians Luiz Bonfá and Maria Toledo for a lyrically focused follow-up to the landmark Jazz Samba of 1962.
‘Rather than reprising the earlier landmark album’s airy, guitar-driven bossa nova formula, Encore offers a more intimate, reflective setting shaped by Bonfá’s darker harmonic language and Toledo’s distinctive vocal and percussive presence. Getz’s tenor saxophone — warm, unhurried, and effortlessly melodic — threads through this atmosphere with a depth characteristic of his early-1960s work.
‘The program blends Bonfá’s original compositions with pieces by Antônio Carlos Jobim, including Só Danço Samba and Insensatez, highlighting the evolving transnational dialogue between Brazilian songcraft and American jazz phrasing. Bonfá’s nylon-string guitar provides the album’s tonal anchor, its rhythmic clarity and harmonic subtlety opening space for Getz’s lyrical phrasing. Toledo contributes both vocals and percussion, lending the session a textural and emotional range distinct from other Getz bossa nova collaborations.
‘The result is a quieter, more introspective album than its predecessor — one that underscores Getz’s ability to adapt his voice to a variety of Brazilian idioms without dominating them. Jobim appears on several tracks, further grounding the session in the core creators of the bossa nova repertoire.’

From 1975, two takes on Joao Donato which ‘strip away the originals’ sophisticated arrangements in favour of a more driving groove and a raw, funky edge that makes them absolute dancefloor weapons.’

Soulful, rootical early set from the great man, with rich, brilliant backing from percussionists Trio Mocoto.

Mental baile future-funk.
Impossibly, round two ratchets through higher gears than round one. The cutting and scratching skills are brutally imperious, by turn eviscerating in split seconds a trembling flock of far-flung musical prey. Out of the wreckage looms the apotheosis of apocalyptic Techno Scratch terror; the ebulliently vengeful prophesy of forebears like Grand Wizzard Theodore and the Knights of the Turntable.
Blisteringly hot.