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| São Paulo's music scene: 'Every day is Monday, every night is Friday' | São Paulo's music scene: 'Every day is Monday, every night is Friday' |
| (about 21 hours later) | |
| Anyone looking for a neat summation of São Paulo life would struggle to beat the words of up-and-coming rapper Don L. "In São Paulo, every day is a Monday," he says, referencing the stressed-out, workaholic existence that makes living in Brazil's biggest city a tough grind. "But every night is a Friday." | Anyone looking for a neat summation of São Paulo life would struggle to beat the words of up-and-coming rapper Don L. "In São Paulo, every day is a Monday," he says, referencing the stressed-out, workaholic existence that makes living in Brazil's biggest city a tough grind. "But every night is a Friday." |
| São Paulo might not be the prettiest place to look at – from the 42nd floor of the Edificio Italia you can see rows of graffiti-strewn towerblocks stretching to the horizon in every direction – but its treasures are revealed once the clock strikes midnight and the famous Brazilian party spirit is unleashed across the city's venues, clubs and street parties. | São Paulo might not be the prettiest place to look at – from the 42nd floor of the Edificio Italia you can see rows of graffiti-strewn towerblocks stretching to the horizon in every direction – but its treasures are revealed once the clock strikes midnight and the famous Brazilian party spirit is unleashed across the city's venues, clubs and street parties. |
| Over the past year, this party spirit has been one of the few things Paulistanos have left to cling on to. Their city has been in the news regularly, not just because of the World Cup (Brazil kicked off the competition here last week), but also because of the protests that have broken out in the city against it, themselves an extension of the widespread unrest that hit São Paulo a year ago, with transport, education, healthcare, legalisation of marijuana and corruption (pretty much everything, then) on the agenda. It would be easy to think of the city's music scene as offering an escape from such woes. But after spending five days in the city talking to local musicians – from experimental synth artists to rappers from the city's favelas – it becomes clear that the protests and the latest sounds are often tied up together. | Over the past year, this party spirit has been one of the few things Paulistanos have left to cling on to. Their city has been in the news regularly, not just because of the World Cup (Brazil kicked off the competition here last week), but also because of the protests that have broken out in the city against it, themselves an extension of the widespread unrest that hit São Paulo a year ago, with transport, education, healthcare, legalisation of marijuana and corruption (pretty much everything, then) on the agenda. It would be easy to think of the city's music scene as offering an escape from such woes. But after spending five days in the city talking to local musicians – from experimental synth artists to rappers from the city's favelas – it becomes clear that the protests and the latest sounds are often tied up together. |
| "There are big infrastructure problems here and all over the country," says Sombra, a rapper from the poor São Paulo suburb of Guarulhos, known for his unique flow and ironic sense of humour. "But that just inspires me to articulate whatever is needed." | "There are big infrastructure problems here and all over the country," says Sombra, a rapper from the poor São Paulo suburb of Guarulhos, known for his unique flow and ironic sense of humour. "But that just inspires me to articulate whatever is needed." |
| Bruno Morais, a shy record obsessive whose gentle instrumental compositions can best be heard on 2012's A Vontade Superstar, agrees: "The fact the World Cup is happening right now is completely wrong," he tells me as he walks me around his favourite downtown record store to marvel at the rare Jorge Ben Jor vinyl on the walls. Yet rather than addressing their concerns directly through lyrics - as the 70s generation of Brazilian musicians did - Morais believes that the new wave of artists are voicing their anger by pushing things artisticallyand forcing themselves to think outside the box. | Bruno Morais, a shy record obsessive whose gentle instrumental compositions can best be heard on 2012's A Vontade Superstar, agrees: "The fact the World Cup is happening right now is completely wrong," he tells me as he walks me around his favourite downtown record store to marvel at the rare Jorge Ben Jor vinyl on the walls. Yet rather than addressing their concerns directly through lyrics - as the 70s generation of Brazilian musicians did - Morais believes that the new wave of artists are voicing their anger by pushing things artisticallyand forcing themselves to think outside the box. |
| He's talking about local artists such as Metá Metá – a trio who mix traditional Brazilian music with, among other things, freeform jazz – and Dudu Tsuda, who specialises in sound installations. Another is Rodrigo Coelho, who moved to São Paulo from Recife – "the New Orleans of Brazil" –in order to "build a bridge between the percussion associated with the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé and the modular synths of Germany". His new label, UIVO, aims to promote a new kind of Brazilian music that will confound outsiders: "A bit more gloomy, not so tropical," he says. "There are a lot of fucked-up things happening in Brazil, but this makes you want to do something different, to prove yourself as people, as a country, to show we are not just dumb monkeys that get robbed all the time." | He's talking about local artists such as Metá Metá – a trio who mix traditional Brazilian music with, among other things, freeform jazz – and Dudu Tsuda, who specialises in sound installations. Another is Rodrigo Coelho, who moved to São Paulo from Recife – "the New Orleans of Brazil" –in order to "build a bridge between the percussion associated with the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé and the modular synths of Germany". His new label, UIVO, aims to promote a new kind of Brazilian music that will confound outsiders: "A bit more gloomy, not so tropical," he says. "There are a lot of fucked-up things happening in Brazil, but this makes you want to do something different, to prove yourself as people, as a country, to show we are not just dumb monkeys that get robbed all the time." |
| One sign of the city's current cultural capital is the location I meet Coelho at: in the old downtown of São Paulo lies a newly opened Red Bull music studio (other studios of theirs have popped up in such musical hubs as London, New York and Los Angeles, as well as Madrid, Cape Town, Copenhagen, Paris, Auckland and Amsterdam). It offers free studio time to upcoming artists and recording time for local musicians – Coelho, a former Red Bull Music Academy graduate, is recording his latest project, Grassmass, there – and also hosts a range of classes for budding artists. On the day I visit, exciting new duo Tropkillaz are mentoring a session on bass music and trap – not something you would expect to find on your average music course – which involves 10 baseball-capped music-makers learning,during the exercise I sit in on, to deconstruct Di Melo's Brazilian funk soul classic A Vida Em Seus Métodos Diz Calma. | One sign of the city's current cultural capital is the location I meet Coelho at: in the old downtown of São Paulo lies a newly opened Red Bull music studio (other studios of theirs have popped up in such musical hubs as London, New York and Los Angeles, as well as Madrid, Cape Town, Copenhagen, Paris, Auckland and Amsterdam). It offers free studio time to upcoming artists and recording time for local musicians – Coelho, a former Red Bull Music Academy graduate, is recording his latest project, Grassmass, there – and also hosts a range of classes for budding artists. On the day I visit, exciting new duo Tropkillaz are mentoring a session on bass music and trap – not something you would expect to find on your average music course – which involves 10 baseball-capped music-makers learning,during the exercise I sit in on, to deconstruct Di Melo's Brazilian funk soul classic A Vida Em Seus Métodos Diz Calma. |
| Tropkillaz are DJ Zegon, the hip-hop veteran from NASA who produced countless 90s Brazilian classics, and 21-year-old Laudz, who Zegon met on Twitter and liked his music so much that he ended up inviting him to his house to make beats for five days straight. This combination of youth and experience produces wild, trap-influenced dancefloor bangers with a Brazilian flavour. "We do use a lot of Latin or Brazilian samples, but obscure ones – not samba or bossa nova," says Zegon. "But even when we flip American or Japanese samples, our flow or rhythm shows the Brazilian element because it's the swing we've got in our blood." | Tropkillaz are DJ Zegon, the hip-hop veteran from NASA who produced countless 90s Brazilian classics, and 21-year-old Laudz, who Zegon met on Twitter and liked his music so much that he ended up inviting him to his house to make beats for five days straight. This combination of youth and experience produces wild, trap-influenced dancefloor bangers with a Brazilian flavour. "We do use a lot of Latin or Brazilian samples, but obscure ones – not samba or bossa nova," says Zegon. "But even when we flip American or Japanese samples, our flow or rhythm shows the Brazilian element because it's the swing we've got in our blood." |
| Zegon references other Paulistanos making interesting bass music, from Flying Buff and Sugar Crush - who make trap and twerk music for the dancefloor – to the more abstract, instrumental bass sounds on the label Beatwise. He also tells me about the best nights in São Paulo, such as Monday's rock night On The Rocks or Tuesday's legendary hip-hop party Chocolate at Clash Club. It's the latter venue we head to the following night to hear a mix of Brazilian and US hip-hop and catch a fantastic 2am live performance by Karol Conka, one of several female MCs across Brazil, including Flora Matos – who raps about LGBT issues – and Rio trio Pearls Negras (check out their excellent baille-funk flavoured Pensando em Você). Backstage before her show, Conka says she expects to see more female MCs over the next year, as the scene is only just taking off. She also explains that, although the dire situation in Brazil affects her, she "prefers to focus on the positive things, the solutions, such as self-esteem and respecting yourself". Despite not living in São Paulo, Conka says she comes here every month because it has a "hot audience" and you can see what she means: amazingly for a Tuesday night – and proof that every night really is a Friday in the city – Club Clash is packed with around 800 people all dancing until 5am, aided no doubt by the impressive measures being served at the bar. | Zegon references other Paulistanos making interesting bass music, from Flying Buff and Sugar Crush - who make trap and twerk music for the dancefloor – to the more abstract, instrumental bass sounds on the label Beatwise. He also tells me about the best nights in São Paulo, such as Monday's rock night On The Rocks or Tuesday's legendary hip-hop party Chocolate at Clash Club. It's the latter venue we head to the following night to hear a mix of Brazilian and US hip-hop and catch a fantastic 2am live performance by Karol Conka, one of several female MCs across Brazil, including Flora Matos – who raps about LGBT issues – and Rio trio Pearls Negras (check out their excellent baille-funk flavoured Pensando em Você). Backstage before her show, Conka says she expects to see more female MCs over the next year, as the scene is only just taking off. She also explains that, although the dire situation in Brazil affects her, she "prefers to focus on the positive things, the solutions, such as self-esteem and respecting yourself". Despite not living in São Paulo, Conka says she comes here every month because it has a "hot audience" and you can see what she means: amazingly for a Tuesday night – and proof that every night really is a Friday in the city – Club Clash is packed with around 800 people all dancing until 5am, aided no doubt by the impressive measures being served at the bar. |
| Early the next day (and yes, somehow you are expected to have a "day" here, despite being out until 5am), I get a calmer view of the music scene when I head to the arty area of Vila Madalena to see São Paulo's DIY indie scene in action. On a sleepy street (or at least what counts for one here), Gui Jesus Toledo has turned an old garage into a studio in which seven bands loosely grouped together (they're linked through friendship and youth rather than genre) congregate to record and release records through their shared label Risco.Toledo – who spent five months building the studio and admits that it's not soundproofed quite well enough to avoid waking his neighbours up - says "every band here is like a mini universe, with a distribution model that works for them". | Early the next day (and yes, somehow you are expected to have a "day" here, despite being out until 5am), I get a calmer view of the music scene when I head to the arty area of Vila Madalena to see São Paulo's DIY indie scene in action. On a sleepy street (or at least what counts for one here), Gui Jesus Toledo has turned an old garage into a studio in which seven bands loosely grouped together (they're linked through friendship and youth rather than genre) congregate to record and release records through their shared label Risco.Toledo – who spent five months building the studio and admits that it's not soundproofed quite well enough to avoid waking his neighbours up - says "every band here is like a mini universe, with a distribution model that works for them". |
| One of these bands is O Terno, a young rock'n'roll trio inspired by Os Mutantes and 60s rock groups such as Cream. Tim Bernardes, the group's 22-year-old singer, says that although O Terno's new album was mainly composed before the protests of last June, the anger that movement generated now comes through "in the way we play – more direct, more intense!" It's something backed up by Curumin, a funk, samba and hip-hop influenced artist, who says he detects that the new music being made "has more anger, is more tense, touches the wound more deeply". | One of these bands is O Terno, a young rock'n'roll trio inspired by Os Mutantes and 60s rock groups such as Cream. Tim Bernardes, the group's 22-year-old singer, says that although O Terno's new album was mainly composed before the protests of last June, the anger that movement generated now comes through "in the way we play – more direct, more intense!" It's something backed up by Curumin, a funk, samba and hip-hop influenced artist, who says he detects that the new music being made "has more anger, is more tense, touches the wound more deeply". |
| Of course, not everyone is convinced by this new wave of protest, especially on the hip-hop scene. Emicida is one of the country's biggests stars, a rapper whose name refers to his killer instincts in MC battles (events that still take place on the city's streets). As he puts it: "Rap has always been concerned about these issues … people were talking about them way before the protests. If someone was to change their music because of them then that, to me, would be an opportunist attitude." | Of course, not everyone is convinced by this new wave of protest, especially on the hip-hop scene. Emicida is one of the country's biggests stars, a rapper whose name refers to his killer instincts in MC battles (events that still take place on the city's streets). As he puts it: "Rap has always been concerned about these issues … people were talking about them way before the protests. If someone was to change their music because of them then that, to me, would be an opportunist attitude." |
| Maybe as a reaction to what he perceives to be bandwagon-jumping, one of Emicida's most recent releases was a collaboration with MC Guime, a young funk singer who shares his favela background but rejected Brazilian hip-hop's lineage of socially conscious lyrics to sing about parties and owning expensive watches, a trend that the media has dubbed "ostentation". Yet even Guime sees his music as having an important social purpose: "My songs focus on fun, luxury items, but they always give the idea that the dream can be achieved," he says. | Maybe as a reaction to what he perceives to be bandwagon-jumping, one of Emicida's most recent releases was a collaboration with MC Guime, a young funk singer who shares his favela background but rejected Brazilian hip-hop's lineage of socially conscious lyrics to sing about parties and owning expensive watches, a trend that the media has dubbed "ostentation". Yet even Guime sees his music as having an important social purpose: "My songs focus on fun, luxury items, but they always give the idea that the dream can be achieved," he says. |
| Ultimately, the music of São Paulo is too diverse and ever-changing to be restricted to one school of thought. It's this diversity that makes it so thrilling as a music city, along with its plentiful venues, diverse ethnic makeup, active culture organisation, SESC, concrete jungle image and competitive rivalry with Rio de Janeiro (as Emicida tells me: "São Paulo people think Rio people are lazy, Rio people think São Paulo people are workaholics"). It's a city of contradictions that can be stomach-churning: while almost a third of its population live in slums, it boasts the world's highest number of helicopters per capita. Yet it's also a city that has learned to thrive on such contradictions. In the words of Dudu Tsuda: "São Paulo is way too intense, way too big, way too violent, noisy, polluted and chaotic. But it is our inspiration." | |
| São Paulo artists on what makes their city so special | São Paulo artists on what makes their city so special |
| DJ Zegon, Tropkillaz | DJ Zegon, Tropkillaz |
| "I was around for the first generation of DJs and B-Boys in São Paulo, around 1986/87. I was a professional skateboarder and we used to skate the same spots that the B-Boys used to breakdance in, downtown or in Park Ibirapuera. We'd hear punk rock, hardcore, hip-hop ... all kinds of styles that would crossover. I was a good skater but I was always breaking a bone somewhere, so when I first heard a DJ scratching I thought: 'That's what I want to do!' São Paulo is a city that never stops. I lived in Rio for a bit and it was easy to get distracted but here we have no distractions other than work, work, work! I work all day, then go to sleep and dream about making music!" | "I was around for the first generation of DJs and B-Boys in São Paulo, around 1986/87. I was a professional skateboarder and we used to skate the same spots that the B-Boys used to breakdance in, downtown or in Park Ibirapuera. We'd hear punk rock, hardcore, hip-hop ... all kinds of styles that would crossover. I was a good skater but I was always breaking a bone somewhere, so when I first heard a DJ scratching I thought: 'That's what I want to do!' São Paulo is a city that never stops. I lived in Rio for a bit and it was easy to get distracted but here we have no distractions other than work, work, work! I work all day, then go to sleep and dream about making music!" |
| Barbara Eugenia | Barbara Eugenia |
| "São Paulo is a big melting pot, having people from all over (especially from other parts of Brazil, being so rich and multicultural), which gives us the possibility to create in a more diverse manner. There are great artists here like Peri Pane – a composer and cello player who mixes music and poetry in a beautiful way – and Tatá Aeroplano, who I think will one day be known as on of the most important artists from São Paulo. He's a fantastic chronicler, telling stories of the city so uniquely." | |
| Emicida | Emicida |
| "I grew up far away from the centre of São Paulo so I would always find out about new music through tapes and VHS cassettes – I would always hear stories that I did not experience myself. Back in the day things were much harder in the hip-hop scene – prejudice was much higher, so I'm glad to have had those guys open the way for me. The favela – where I'm from – identifies with the music because it talks about the life in there. Even if it's about dreams, it's about their dreams." | "I grew up far away from the centre of São Paulo so I would always find out about new music through tapes and VHS cassettes – I would always hear stories that I did not experience myself. Back in the day things were much harder in the hip-hop scene – prejudice was much higher, so I'm glad to have had those guys open the way for me. The favela – where I'm from – identifies with the music because it talks about the life in there. Even if it's about dreams, it's about their dreams." |
| Bruno Morais | Bruno Morais |
| "I moved to São Paulo because I needed to show people the music I'd recorded and there is a lot of space here – venues, rehearsal rooms - to do that. There's also SESC here, which is a private/public institution with a strong cultural presence in São Paulo – they give room to a lot of arts performers, mainly music. It gives indie artists a place to perform." | "I moved to São Paulo because I needed to show people the music I'd recorded and there is a lot of space here – venues, rehearsal rooms - to do that. There's also SESC here, which is a private/public institution with a strong cultural presence in São Paulo – they give room to a lot of arts performers, mainly music. It gives indie artists a place to perform." |
| Curumin | Curumin |
| "São Paulo is a huge city where the best ways of leisure are the cultural events. If you play a hermetic kind of music genre, in São Paulo you find an audience and a place to play it. I used to walk around the streets of São Paulo by myself because I loved music and there were always free concerts. I saw Hermeto Pascoal, Baden Powell, Tom Jobim, Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil ... there were also parties – soul, hip-hop, samba – which inspired me. It may seem hard to find São Paulo 'inspiring', but my uncle – an important photographer called Cristiano Mascaro – has a phrase that defines the city well: São Paulo is not pretty, but it's very interesting." | "São Paulo is a huge city where the best ways of leisure are the cultural events. If you play a hermetic kind of music genre, in São Paulo you find an audience and a place to play it. I used to walk around the streets of São Paulo by myself because I loved music and there were always free concerts. I saw Hermeto Pascoal, Baden Powell, Tom Jobim, Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil ... there were also parties – soul, hip-hop, samba – which inspired me. It may seem hard to find São Paulo 'inspiring', but my uncle – an important photographer called Cristiano Mascaro – has a phrase that defines the city well: São Paulo is not pretty, but it's very interesting." |
| Felipe Cordeiro | Felipe Cordeiro |
| "Because São Paulo is a city that has developed itself around work relations, it has a fast, imposing rhythm and style different to the rest of Brazil. I am interested in the vanguard music from São Paulo and in the underground that happened here in the beginning of the 80s. The contemporary Paulista generation are discovering 'new Brazils': new possibilities of being Brazilian and of doing Brazilian music." | "Because São Paulo is a city that has developed itself around work relations, it has a fast, imposing rhythm and style different to the rest of Brazil. I am interested in the vanguard music from São Paulo and in the underground that happened here in the beginning of the 80s. The contemporary Paulista generation are discovering 'new Brazils': new possibilities of being Brazilian and of doing Brazilian music." |
| Dudu Tsuda | Dudu Tsuda |
| "São Paulo has a very dense and chaotic urban background that leads you to create something very aware of your surroundings. Artists here create things connected to their context, it is almost impossible to be out of it. Sometimes things here are made to be difficult and painful. Everything is disorganised, politicians are corrupted, there is no sense of common wealth, no sense of community, which makes your everyday life very complicated, and some cases, miserable. People here smile anyway. This is a miracle. And music is something between this spontaneous and miraculous smile and the feeling that things must change." | "São Paulo has a very dense and chaotic urban background that leads you to create something very aware of your surroundings. Artists here create things connected to their context, it is almost impossible to be out of it. Sometimes things here are made to be difficult and painful. Everything is disorganised, politicians are corrupted, there is no sense of common wealth, no sense of community, which makes your everyday life very complicated, and some cases, miserable. People here smile anyway. This is a miracle. And music is something between this spontaneous and miraculous smile and the feeling that things must change." |
| Don L | Don L |
| "I moved to São Paulo about six months ago, to help bring my career to the next level. The diversity attracted me: almost every genre is here in São Paulo and so you get people exchanging ideas. I remember when I performed at Chocolate and it got to midnight and it was quite quiet so I thought that meant nobody would turn up. Then after a while it was packed – on a Tuesday night! Every day there is something going on here. The most important art exhibitions come here first – there was a Miles Davis one which was beautiful – but now that I'm here I can't find time to go because of the local rhythm of craziness." | "I moved to São Paulo about six months ago, to help bring my career to the next level. The diversity attracted me: almost every genre is here in São Paulo and so you get people exchanging ideas. I remember when I performed at Chocolate and it got to midnight and it was quite quiet so I thought that meant nobody would turn up. Then after a while it was packed – on a Tuesday night! Every day there is something going on here. The most important art exhibitions come here first – there was a Miles Davis one which was beautiful – but now that I'm here I can't find time to go because of the local rhythm of craziness." |