Approaches, Atlas, 38th Day of Hagwinter, 524 M.E.

In the 1960s, the democratically elected President of Brazil was overthrown by a military dictatorship. I've been thinking a lot recently about how other people lived and survived under autocratic regimes, and have found the music of the Brazilian tropicalia protest movement particularly inspirational.

Musician Caetano Veloso was one of the leading figures of the tropicalia movement and for his efforts was exiled in lieu of prison by the Brazilian military. However, while in Brazil in January 1971 on a temporary basis to see his parents' 40th anniversary, he was interrogated by the military and asked to compose a song complimenting the Transamazônica highway. Caetano didn't accept the offer, but, back in exile, he recorded an LP in London titled Transa. The hilarious part is that transa, while taken from the highway's name, is Portuguese for "fuck." 

The album, sung in both English and Portuguese, is a masterpiece and one of the best albums not only of the tropicalia movement, but of the early 70s, period. Caetano wasn't a happy man at the time and was not only disappointed with his government but also felt alienated and lonely in London.  But he channeled his pain and loneliness into songs like You Don't Know Me and It's a Long Way, and produced great art out of his discontentment.

The stellar Red Hot organization, the folks behind several all-star compilation albums for various worthwhile charities, has recently released a new 46-song compilation for and by the transgender and LGBTQ music community titled TRANSA, after the Veloso album. I don't know whether or not all of the musicians on the album are themselves trans or queer, or just sympathetic and supportive, and I'm not going to speculate on which are in which group.

I finally listened to all three-and-a half hours of the compilation. Frankly, I was disappointed. NPR music critic Ann Powers warned that it was an overall downbeat effort and she was not incorrect. The album is not without its highlights, but most of it consists of slow, somber, and spare songs performed sincerely but not necessarily enthusiastically. But let's not look at the half-empty portion of the glass (or the 7/8ths empty part) and instead focus on the tracks I like. 

The second track on the album is an ethereal and transcendent cover of Veloso's You Don't Know Me performed by Devendra Banhart, Blake Mills, and Beverly Glenn-Copeland, which reinterprets the original's sense of alienation by Brazilian exile adrift in London to the perspective of a nonbinary person in these modern times. After that, though, other than the compilation's title, there are no other links with Caetano's 1972 recording.   

Probably the highlight of the album is a 26-minute instrumental near the middle of the album by Andre 3000 titled, as his recent style, Something Is Happening and I May Not Fully Understand But I'm Happy to Stand for the Understanding. I Say 'instrumental," but toward the end of the track there are some vocalizations, but Andre's not singing in English or any identifiable language. It's somewhere between scat and speaking in tongues, but whatever it is, it sounds very cool. 

Just a few tracks after Andre 3000, producer Arthur Baker offers a remix of the late Pharaoh Sanders called Love Hymn. It's hard to go wrong with Pharaoh, and even if the mix is overproduced with too many layers at times, Pharaoh's sound still shines through. 

An hour or so later, we hear a highly improbably cover of Charles Lloyd's TM by Fleet Foxes, Cole Pulice, and Lynn Avery. TM was a paean to transcendental meditation by Lloyd and the Beach Boys from Lloyd's 1972 album, Waves, and on many levels, I consider it one of the best Beach Boys songs ever (and yes, of course I've heard Good Vibrations). I'll admit the lyrics are pure cringe ("T.M., T.M, in the a.m., and the p.m.") but the rhythms and harmonies so closely match the feel of sitting on a surfboard waiting for a wave as the ocean rises and sets that it's ideal Beach Boys material. I have no idea if this song was selected for TRANSA out of confusion what the "trans" meant, of if it was meant as a comic response to "You want a song about trans? How about one on transcendental meditation?"

The other 42 tracks may grow on me with time, but overall the effort seems like a colossal waste of talent. I mean how could you go wrong with a compilation that includes, over and above those already mentioned, Dirty Projectors, Perfume Genius, Jeff Tweedy,  Alan Sparhawk, Bill Callahan, Sharon Van Etten, Adrianne Lenker, Julien Baker, Faye Webster, Frankie Cosmos, Caroline Rose, Hand Habits, Grouper,  Laraaji, Mary Lattimore, Julianna Barwick, Claire Rousay, Ana Roxanne, AV María, Time Wharp, Joy Guidry, Julie Byrne, L'Rain, Jlin, Moor Mother, More Eaze, Helado Negro, Ezra Furman, Allison Russell, Cassandra Jenkins, Yaya Bey, Sam Smith,  Bartees Strange, Laura Jane Grace, Lee Ranaldo, Jayne County, and Wendy & Lisa of the Revolution?