millions of people around the globe who became fans of 2000's Tanto Tempo and 2004's Bebel Gilberto. With her latest release, Momento,the woman whose name has become synonymous with Brazilian music finally returns, once again slipping her sultry, breathy vocals over gently pulsing down-tempo beats.
"I'm forever living in the future, as it's my favorite place to be," she says, nursing a cup of coffee in her East Village, Manhattan apartment and explaining the title of her album, which translates to "in the moment." "But there has to be a time when you say, 'Let's take care of this moment here.' Live the moment and enjoy the moment completely. That's what I'm doing."
Gilberto comes from the Brazilian-music equivalent of the royal family: her father, Joao, is a bossa nova pioneer, and her mother, Miucha, is one of her country's top singers. Since making her debut at the age of 7 on one of her mother's recordings, Gilberto, who was born in New York but raised in Brazil, has developed into a solo star, a Latin Grammy nominee and a highly sought-after collaborator.
It's her warm personality and singular talent that has drawn artists to her since she began honing her craft in earnest following the release of a Brazilian jazz record in 1991 titled De Tarde, Vendo O Mar. She cut a dance track called "Technova" for Deee-Lite DJ Towa Tei, and when Tanto Tempo made her a household name, she commissioned remixes of the entire album; a trend which has continued with
Momento. Her work with the producer Suba and later Thievery Corporation provided her with an appreciation for electronic music, and today she comfortably moves through many genres.
Gilberto's journey in the States began when she moved to New York and started performing at East Village club Nublu, where she befriended owner Ilhan Ersahin. The friendships she forged then are still vital today: She recently appeared on albums by the Nublu Orchestra and Forro in the Dark, and works regularly with members of New York-based eclectic electro band Brazilian Girls. Her ex-keyboardist, Didi Gutman, co-founded the Girls and produced much of
Momento, while vocalist Sabina Sciubba joins her on "Os Novos Yorkinos," a tribute to New York City.
"[That song] was more Sabina's idea. We were jamming and wanted to write a song together," Gilberto explains. "She wrote the first part of the lyrics. 'Novos Yorkinos' is a joke with this band
Novos Baianos. They came out in the '70s, right after [the release of genre-defining compilation album] Tropicalia. They were the craziest people I ever saw in my life. They totally took over the music business in Brazil. They were crazy about my father, and my father was crazy about them. They would hang out at our place with lots of guitars and lots of pot, like a little community. Novos Baianos named an album with a phrase that I made up, so I recorded this song as a tribute to them."
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An acoustic guitar-led track with a light, floating drum rhythm, her tribute to her adopted hometown relies on a hallmark Gilberto hook. On other tracks, she explores her softer side (the gorgeous "Azul" and heartbreakingly hopeful "Close to You"), and dabbles with ambient elements indicative of the Brazilian spirit. The pan-Caribbean textures of "Tranquilo," featuring Orquestra Imperial, and the oft-remixed single "Bring Back the Love" will move the hips quicker than the heart, and the guitar/drum interplay on "Cacada," possibly the album's most hyper number, is mixed beautifully.
"I took so many risks, more than on other records, so I also take responsibility," Gilberto says. "For the first time, I co-produced most of the tracks. I let myself go into the possibility of not being perfect. Instead of being frustrated because I could not have the exact conditions that I wanted, I worked with what I did have."
Gilberto may have taken a more hands-on approach because thanks to the success of her previous albums, expectations for
Momento are quite high. Songs from her earlier records became staples in coffee shops and lounges globally, and introduced audiences to the next phase of Brazilian music. Younger artists like Cibelle and Tita Lima can all thank Gilberto for paving a road into international territories. But she delivers again on
Momento, which is gorgeous in each of its poetic curves, in its lyrical and musical simplicity. Gilberto credits the wide range of people who helped tweak the album for the final product.
"I worked with so many people this time, and I think you can hear that," she says. "There are little subtleties in there, throughout. You can master and re-master, but I was flying around constantly, and had so many people with access to these files. In the end, I liked that. I wanted to be truthful. I wanted to get away from the perfectionist and purist attitude I had in the past."
When asked about other artists that inspire her, Gilberto laughs. "It's funny, because singers don't like singers," she replies with a smile. But just moments later she professes her love for the excellent Marisa Monte, as well as countrymates Alexandre Kassin, Moreno Veloso, Otto and Marcelo D2. She becomes especially wide-eyed while discussing
Charlotte Gainsbourg, the daughter of the inimitable prankster of French poetry and chanson, Serge.
Spurred by the talk of artists and the caffeine pulsing through her body, Gilberto explores her creative process. Though she says she "can have an idea at any time," there are certain situations, certain moments that really stick out.
"One day Didi and Sabina were here, and I had just finished the words for 'Words,'" she says, referencing the luxurious and patient ballad that closes
Momento. Pointing to her dining room table, she continues, "I put the paper here. Later on, Sabina put the papers in her bag and left, not realizing she took those lyrics. The next day I was looking for the paper and it was gone. I looked where I put most things, which I call 'the mouth of the frog' [her record player]. I thought it was inside of the frog's mouth. I had to go to record that song, and the lyrics were gone.
"One month later we go to a
U2 show, and Sabina comes up to me and pulls out the paper, telling me she forgot to give it to me," she adds. "Well, of course I had rewrote the lyrics by that point. When I compared the copies, against the one I had to rewrite at 5 p.m. -- nervous, no coffee, no joint -- they were the same song. I couldn't believe that I had written the same lyrics almost word for word."
Fortunately, Gilberto was able to recapture that moment.