New World Sonority

    New World Sonority

    Organized over the Internet, gringo sambistas from 19

    countries invaded the Sambadrome in Rio in celebration
    of Brazil’s 500 years. They created
    the Unidos do
    Mundo escolas de samba. With the gringos parading in the
    avenue, the
    question became not whether or not
    they could samba, but whether or not
    they could
    actually become Brazilian.
    By Brazzil Magazine

    It’s beginning to seem like all the pacesetters in Brazilian music die young. Guitar
    virtuoso Rafael Rabelo was lost to drugs in 1995; Chico Science, creator of mangue-beat,
    perished in an automobile accident in 1997; and only five months ago, a predawn apartment
    fire took the life of Mitar Subotic (Suba), Brazil’s vanguard producer and a musician who
    had been leading a new generation in the development of electronic music. Suba was the
    first professional sound engineer to come to Brazil with an understanding of how to match
    his vision with the concepts of Brazilian artists, regardless of style. "The year
    2000 was going to be big for Suba," says producer and A&R man Béco Dranoff.
    "He was finally coming to the surface and out of the São Paulo underground, becoming
    recognized as the hot, new mainstream producer."

    Exceptionally sensitive to nuances of mood and color, Suba created fiercely expressive
    musico-dramatic environments by superimposing and synthesizing a wide range of dense and
    interweaving electronic textures, his quick mind enabling him to open and build
    heterogeneous collages in the studio exactly as an artist wanted. Says Béco Dranoff,
    "Suba had created such an innovative sound and was so far ahead of the curve that
    everybody wanted him. He opened a whole new door."

    At the time of his death, Suba had produced tens of CD’s, composed music for over 25
    theater pieces and dance companies, written sound tracks for more than 15 films as well as
    for Yugoslavian, French, and Brazilian television, including original scores for ESSO (an
    affiliate of Exxon Corporation), BMW, and Philip Morris. In addition, he was negotiating
    with Natasha Records for the release of his solo CD, finishing production on Bebel
    Gilberto’s, and working with Daniela Mercury and Skank on their latest projects.

    Outstanding among his numerous theater works in Brazil are his sound tracks for Oswald
    de Andrade, Os 12 Trabalhos de Hércules, Sáfara, and Bonita
    Lampião, which received the São Paulo Association of Art Critics’ award for best
    theater sound track.

    Suba’s story began on June 23, 1961, in Novi Sad, Yugoslavia, a melting pot of
    Serbians, Croats, Hungarians, Romanians, Slovaks, Bosnians, Russians, and Gypsies. He grew
    up in a home where both parents were journalists. His father, a well-known TV journalist,
    received the Villa-Lobos Award for promotion of Brazilian culture, hence Suba’s early ties
    with Brazil. Suba became interested in music at an early age and studied music theory,
    accordion, and piano from 1966 until 1980 then composition and orchestration from 1980
    until 1985 with professors Rudolf Bruci and Dusan Radic at the Academy of Arts in Novi

    During a visit to Novi Sad last year, Suba joked that the Danube (due to the NATO
    bombing campaign) was the only river that flows over its bridges. Between 1982 and 1984,
    Suba specialized in electronic music at the Radio Belgrade Electronic Studio and also
    researched Eastern European ethnic music and jazz, working closely with electro-acoustic
    composer Paul Pignon.1

    He began his professional career in Novi Sad under the pseudonym Rex Ilusivii (King of
    Illusions) by brilliantly creating and recording a mix of new wave, electronic/ambient,
    and sophisticated funk. There is still Rex Ilusivii graffiti on some buildings around Novi
    Sad, reminding his fans of the period between 1982 and 1986 when Yugoslav radio played
    countless hits by this mysterious artist whose material was always at the top of radio
    station play lists and was being covered by the scene’s best groups. Remaining anonymous
    for years, Rex Ilusivii ultimately revealed to both press and his admiring public that the
    true identity of the man hidden behind the persona was their own Mitar Subotic.

    Ahead of his time, Suba constructed sound installations in open spaces, made extensive
    research in electronic minimalistic music, evolved compositional procedures, and wrote
    articles about jazz styles, the relationships between philosophy and music, and musical
    cultures in non-European countries. He moved to Paris in 1986 where he composed music for
    theater, ballet, elite fashion shows, film and television, and produced numerous radio
    broadcasts and recordings, including his CD Dreambird and the first volume of his
    project Angel’s Breath. While in Paris, his electronic piece based on Yugoslavian
    folk lullabies, In the Mooncage, received the International Fund for Promotion of
    Culture award from UNESCO, which included a three month scholarship to research indigenous
    music and Afro-Brazilian rhythms.2

    Classically trained as a pianist and composer with a huge background in theory and an
    aesthetic foundation in electronic music, Suba, planning only to gain first-hand contact
    with the music and distinguished musicians of Brazil and enjoy the beauty and spiritual
    wealth of the country, became engrossed in Brazilian roots music and the Brazilian musical
    chemistry. Commenting last year to a Yugoslavian journalist, Suba said, "Brazilian
    music is so rich that it comprises a unique planet. Every 500 kilometers there is a new
    rhythm and musical style, authentic, delightful, and unique."

    Speaking of his initial reactions he said, "In the beginning, I could not speak a
    word of Portuguese, but I found that in such situations all the antennas are turned on,
    absorbing the new smells and sounds. I had a feeling of rediscovering the world. A year
    later I had already made friends with excellent musicians and worked with them. I soaked
    up their energy, was in touch with everything that was going on. Initially, it was culture
    shock, a strong but pleasant one."

    In 1992, Suba met percussionist João Parahyba and forged a partnership that lasted
    until his death.3 "The first conversation we had," says Parahyba,
    "was about our musical philosophies and the rhythm and harmony of the universe. It
    was a conversation that ended after seven hours and in which there had been a surprising
    congruence of intuitive response. Suba was the first guy I’d met who spoke about music as
    the universal language—no labels. His concept of music was so close to my own, that
    it was like finding a mirror that reflected my music with a high-tech image. We started
    working together from that first day on a project called Harmonia Mundi. Using diverse
    influences from all corners of our planet, we built some of the most interesting music
    I’ve had the pleasure to work on.

    "We would go to the studio in the afternoon and stay until late at night. Suba
    would say, `First, we’ll make a Frankenstein.’ He was a garbage mind who destroyed to
    construct, using everything. He was completely open, so it was easy for us. We were like
    two very tight musicians who could just deliver. We’d find a groove, a melody, or a
    harmony and transform it into a kind of colored noise and then start recording. We cut
    everything, sampled cells, transformed these, and made other grooves. When we started
    doing this, I realized how a simple cell of percussion could be transformed with flangers
    into chords and melodies. He opened my mind to working directly with effects."

    Electronic effects and their potential within the context of popular music have been
    recognized and considered seriously as an extension of an ensemble’s performance since the
    1960’s. (The Beach Boys used a Theremin on "Good Vibrations" and the Beatles
    used tape loops and recordings played backwards on Revolver.4 ) And one
    of the central facts of electronic music is that it depends on a rapport between musician
    and technology. "Electronic effects, for us, are just a different tool," says
    Parahyba. "Just like the drum set is a rhythmic tool, like acoustic guitar and
    electric guitar are different tools, the computer is one more tool musicians use to create
    different sounds, to create new images. Musicians who have talent can create excellent
    material on a computer or they can do this on a small match box. The musicians do this,
    not the instruments. These electronic tools, be it a compressor or a flanger effect, were
    Suba’s instruments, the tools he used to speak his language. Anything you plug in could be
    a new instrument for him. His was an electronic/organic thing."

    Effects and samples have assumed an increasingly important role in the most musically
    elaborate pop, in many cases eliminating entire horn sections and ousting the electric
    guitar as the center of a group’s sound world. As these audio tools are refined, a new
    vocabulary of sounds comes into common usage. Limited possibilities become unlimited, and
    everything which was imponderable can be subjected to precise measurement.

    With 24-bit digital technology offering greater resolution than 16-bit, digital
    recording has come even closer to analog quality. "What’s happening," says Béco
    Dranoff, "is that the technology is improving and something inside our brains is
    saying, `Oh, we can deal with this now on a very different level.’ Our ears have
    acclimated to the point where electronic effects and sampled instruments don’t jump out at
    us like they used to. We’re getting used to them. The good electronic music is almost
    becoming acoustic music to our ears. Before musicians needed record labels to pay for
    their studio time, but many are now working with Pro-Tools and creating a lot of music
    cheaper and much faster at home."5

    Skill and imagination are needed to create sounds which retain a sense of wonder, as
    most of our music makes use of only a narrowly defined spectrum from the enormous range of
    sounds we can hear. In the hands of a sensitive musician, these devices give rise to that
    sense of new discovery, but they have also encouraged amateurs, who lack discretion, to
    create works that are limited and that tend to sound the same. The electronic medium,
    after all, makes it only too easy to indulge in trick effects: bizarre juxtapositions of
    unrelated ideas, sudden shifts from the familiar to the unfamiliar, gradual disruptions of
    everyday sounds. When Suba was asked about this trend last year he said, "A person
    can have a computer at home without knowing how to play and still make music, provided, of
    course, that he has some musical taste. This democratization in music is phenomenal, but
    nothing will happen without talent. You may have the most advanced studio, all the
    education you need, but all will be in vain if there is no trace of that lunacy in your
    head, which we call talent or inspiration."

    Says singer Cibelle Cavalli, "Suba would develop the foundation of a piece, and
    then we would get together and jam at his place. He had the sound table, everything there,
    all his computers, filters, and effects in a case that he went around with. We called it
    the Suba-móvel. Suba would start mixing textures, filtering, looping, working with
    the table, and I would hear a sound, which felt like it was right in front of me, and
    another sound at the back of my head, and another sound spinning over my head, and another
    sound inside my right ear. He made the music come alive. Once we had a song nearly ready,
    we would go to Wah Wah Studios, his studio, to finish it. Suba could respond to every
    expression of thought in the realization of his ideas."

    Recalling their work together on "Sereia" Cavalli says, "One night we
    got together at Suba’s apartment, and listened to some acoustic bass loops that he had
    recorded cut, and pasted. After picking up on one, Suba started filtering and stretching
    the sound, creating all kinds of effects. He kept doing that to the sound, creating
    another and another. We went on into the night cutting and pasting sounds that we were
    creating right there. Actually, Suba was doing the creating. I could only describe the
    sounds I felt I needed to hear and say `Yes’ or `I don’t think so,’ because I can’t deal
    with effects yet. Remember, I came from the acoustic bossa/MPB/jazz school. Finally, I
    went to take a nap and when I woke up, I heard this looped melody that sounded just like a
    poem I had written before I met Suba. That’s the lyric you hear throughout
    "Sereia." The funny thing is, when I wrote it, I had a particular melody in my
    head, like a drifting thought. And that night, out of the blue, Suba played the same
    melody. I rushed into the other room, got my poetry notebook, found the poem, and sang it
    along with the loop. I just couldn’t believe how perfectly it fit."

    Suba’s live electronic ensembles had the same freedom to use any conceivable sound, as
    the composer had in his studio, with the advantage that human subtleties were immediately
    involved. Combining live instrumental playing with electronics enabled Suba to relate his
    work directly to a common musical experience and to extend the capabilities of
    conventional instruments. Additionally, this medium lent itself well to performance in
    spectacular locations, where the visual environment could match the strangeness and often
    the grandeur of the music.

    "A few years ago," says Parahyba, "I went to the studio and recorded
    twelve percussion tracks, just rhythms. Afterward, Suba destroyed these twelve pieces, and
    we rebuilt them again in electronic reprocessed samples. He made a playback of these that
    we took to a theater with all of our instruments and we played on top of this again, live.
    I played all percussion and Suba rebuilt live on top of this with effects. It was an
    extraordinarily successful balance of live electronic music and conscientious ensemble
    playing. Everything live again on top of this! The results and breakthroughs were

    "We toured the universities with these pieces for four months in 1997. I remember
    students sitting on the grass at night under a very big, full moon. It was completely
    magic and crazy. Hermeto (Pascoal) worked with us on that tour, which was funny, because
    in the beginning, Hermeto just looked at us like he was wondering what was going on with
    these two guys. And then when he realized that this was a language very close to his own,
    one that liberated the composer and made it possible for him to use any sound whatsoever,
    he started to do amazing things together with us, always funny things. He and Suba became
    very, very good friends."

    Electronic music is unusually dependent on the means accessible at the time. That is
    the natural evolution of electronics, and that evolution in the last ten years has been
    fast and far-reaching. The resources available ten or fifteen years ago were primitive
    when compared with the elaborate advanced technical knowledge which composers now have at
    their disposal. Thus, any judgment made about new music must take into account the
    efficiency and imagination with which a musician has used what was at hand, in terms both
    of apparatus and of theoretical knowledge. Because there has always been a lag between the
    creation of powerful original music and its public appreciation, all we can draw from when
    judging a work’s relative merits, is our listening experience within the particular idiom.
    When the sound images are completely new, however, there is little help from the memory in
    recognizing the genius, originality, and beauty of a work that, at first, appears alien.

    Suba was a pioneer in the discovery of new possibilities, and his achievements, in
    terms of both technical innovation as well as his radically new contribution to the
    Brazilian musical experience, can be heard and felt—first bar to last—on São
    Paulo Confessions. "The mark of this recording," says Béco Dranoff,
    "is that it is really a bridge to the millennium, something that is going to be heard
    and studied for years to come. This album is far ahead of its time, really ahead of the
    curve." Entirely a work of the new generation, rich in imagery, and powerfully
    atmospheric, São Paulo Confessions takes the listener into realms of the unknown
    and the mysterious where he is thrown headlong into an angular and complex world that both
    shocks and charms the ear, where he is obliged to suspend expectations and to follow,
    every moment, a path unfolded amid changing soundscapes.

    "Sereia" (Mermaid) is a completely different sensation from the ordinary
    listening experience. Cibelle Cavalli elicits a world of mystery and essential solitude
    where the sound of her words are as important as their literal sense. Providing not an
    accompaniment, but a parallel dimension enmeshed with voice, Suba layers Cavalli’s lyrics
    atop an electronically generated baião/coco groove that is punctuated with deep cuíca-like
    accents and laced with ambient traces of jungle and trip-hop. Reverberation and a wide
    spectrum of filtered sonorities exploit tone-color, extending rather than contrasting with
    Cavalli’s exotic voice. This powerfully atmospheric alliance of allusion, both musical and
    linguistic, creates a dreamlike ambience.

    With enhanced surrealistic images of highly colored electronic effects and unusual
    juxtapositions of timbre, register, and rhythmic forms, "Segredo," a Bahian samba-marcha,
    displays Suba’s finesse in handling the technique of timbre composition. His attention not
    only to the tune’s expressive effect but also to the more delicate properties of rhythm
    and color is stunning. Functioning like a liaison between a delicate web of percussion and
    a luxurious ambient sonority, Katia Bronstein’s voice, like some celestial hybrid that
    crawls over your eardrum in drifting clouds of sound, tickles a part of the brain that has
    been sleeping.

    In a wave of prolonged musical motion, "Samba do Gringo Paulista" (Samba for
    Our Gringo) sets blocks of musical material against one another in flat, multi-layered
    planes. The metallic resonance of the cavaquinho and the percussive foundation
    created by João Parahyba from an array of samba school instruments function like traffic
    signs in the unlimited space of this electronic sound world. Says Parahyba, "In a
    very, very good samba school, like all live music, you appreciate a certain delay from the
    musicians. But with samples, you need to be more mathematical. You need a hundred beats,
    and every one has to be together." Here it all adds up. What is electronic and what
    is instrumental remains open to the innocent ear. Suba perfected a way to make electronic
    music sound organic, not chopped up or recycled, in which only the physiological
    sensitivity of the listener’s ear and Suba’s artistic sensitivity prescribe borders

    "Abraço" (Embrace), is simply mesmeric; the listener can sense Suba’s joy in
    creating atmospheric strokes as well as his almost boyish enthusiasm for pursuing the
    potentialities of the electronic medium. Parahyba plays perpetual repetitions of an
    African rhythm on congas and a Firchie snare above an implied trip-hop pulse while Edgard
    Scandurra’s guitar pierces the ceiling. A background canvas of voices—Joanna Jones
    and Arnaldo Antunes—appears and submerges, alternating between quasi-declamation and
    rhythmically articulated spoken lines. And all these references are woven into a fabric of
    largely intuitive playing.

    Snaring the listener again and again, "A Noite Sem Fim" (Infinite Night) is a
    densely patterned bossa nova with transformations of motif, each growing
    imperceptibly from a small germinal cell that works itself out within the tune’s tightly
    formulated gauze of contrapuntal tissue. By juxtaposing separate, yet ultimately
    assimilated elements, including acoustic guitar and timba samples, and by employing
    an extremely broad array of coloristic, electronically processed, looped, and filtered
    resources, Suba creates a musical contemplation, or better still, a reflective, playful,
    yet gently ironic tone painting.

    In technical and musical respects, São Paulo Confessions is an aural drama of
    sound effects, rhythms, and tone color that embraces surreal and extreme counterbalances.
    An enormously powerful pulse, references to indigenous music, and richly complex textures
    of intricate rhythmic counterpoints stamp this work and assert its claim as the crown of
    Suba’s career in tirelessly seeking new sounds and combinations. Suba’s composition and
    decomposition of timbre as well as his merging and dividing of complex entities with
    different degrees of intensity, is not simply sound manipulation, but an invitation to
    alter one’s way of perceiving the world. São Paulo Confessions speaks of energy,
    integrity, and essences.

    "I introduced Suba to a lot of musicians from my popular Brazilian music
    area," says Parahyba, "and he always spoke with them like he was their closest
    friend. No matter if it was a rock player, a symphony player, some Indian guy, or an old
    woman from Rio de Janeiro. In five minutes they were friends. And he taught all these
    people how to shine professionally without losing their identity. He had an amazingly open
    mind and made friends easily. For him, everything was new and good, but he never lost his
    sharp European, Oriental focus, regardless of where he was—São Paulo, Bahia, Rio de
    Janeiro. In all his contacts with musicians, he shed new light on how they could give
    heart to their music with this new language. What was most important about Suba was what
    he did for the new concept of Brazilian music."

    Memory and hindsight are unreliable faculties; details fade in the mist as time and
    distance change impressions of an event. Folha de São Paulo and Trombeta do
    Café reported that around 5:30 a.m. on November 2, 1999, smoke was detected coming
    from Suba’s apartment, that the building custodian called on the intercom, and that Suba,
    who had been sleeping, told him that he was unable to open his door. The custodian
    battered down the door and found Suba on his feet, but disoriented, inside the burning

    Amid the chaos that followed, it appears that Suba reentered his studio, and his
    friends believe it was to recover a small case containing the original audio files and
    back-ups (safety copies of computer files) of the new Bebel Gilberto album. Suba was
    overcome by smoke and taken to the emergency room where at 6:32 a.m. he died from smoke
    asphyxiation. He had planned to travel to Belgium on November 3, 1999, to promote São
    Paulo Confessions and to finish producing the final tracks of the Bebel Gilberto CD, Tanto
    Tempo (So Much Time).

    On Tuesday, November 23, 1999, a long journey came to its end as friends, professors,
    fellow musicians, and notables from the Yugoslavian cultural scene gathered at the
    Cultural Center of Novi Sad to pay homage to the composer, producer, instrumentalist, and
    connoisseur of world cultures who explored the electronic frontiers of music and theater
    in both Europe and Brazil, the distant and beautiful land where Suba’s concepts of
    cultural interaction continue to nurture scores of musicians.

    Family and friends remember his life-affirming presence, his sense of humor, and his
    generosity of spirit. They tell me that he loved to paraphrase Kierkegaard: "If I
    were to wish for something, I would not wish for either wealth nor power, but for the
    passion of possibilities. I would wish for an eye eternally youthful because it forever
    yearns to see possibilities." Reflecting on Suba’s work and the terrible loss his
    passing brings to loved ones and the music world, I rummaged through my books for a quote
    from Kierkegaard that embraced the complexity of the circumstances and the depth of sorrow
    that his family and friends have shared with me: "Life can only be understood
    backwards; but it must be lived forwards." Suba’s ashes were placed in the Municipal
    Cemetery’s Hall of Serenity, though he lives forever through his music, his style, and his
    determination to find new ways and new modes of expression.


    (Suba/Katia B.)

    Se for um desejo
    Eu peço pra me guiar
    Se for um segredo ,
    Eu deixo me carregar
    Se faltar coragem
    eu rezo pra abençoar
    O céu negro que vem chegando
    E logo vai desabar

    Se eu perder a hora
    Você vai me levar
    Se eu perder a hora
    Você vem me buscar

    Tanto faz agora
    A hora de te encontrar
    As nuvens que vêm e vão,
    Enganam meu coração
    Se tá me levando
    Eu não vou duvidar
    Menina que não namora
    Não sabe o que tem no mar

    Se eu perder a hora
    Você vai me levar
    Se eu perder a hora
    Você vem me buscar


    If it is desire
    I ask you to guide me
    If it is a secret,
    I let it carry me on
    If there is no courage,
    I pray for a blessing
    Dark skies are moving on
    And will soon be pouring down

    If I lose the time
    It’s you that takes me on
    If I lose the time
    It’s you that picks me up

    It doesn’t matter now
    What time we meet
    Clouds that come and go
    Are fooling my heart
    If they are taking me
    I will not question
    A girl who has no love
    Doesn’t know what the sea bears

    If I lose the time
    It’s you that takes me on
    If I lose the time
    It’s you that picks me up



    Tenho tua palma na alma da mão
    Tenho tua mão no meu corpo no chão
    Tenho teu corpo e tua alma de são
    Na mão e na calma da intuição

    Quero esse simples tão livre de ser
    Quero esse livre tão simples de ver
    Quero te ver em teu livre tecer
    Teu antes teu hoje teu simples viver

    No mar
    No fundo do mar . . .

    Eu vou ter você
    Acima da lua cheia
    Eu vou ter você
    No fundo do mar
    Eu vou ter você
    Lá fora
    Já brilha Vênus
    Bem dentro pele na pele

    No fundo do mar . . .


    I have your soul in the palm of my hand
    I have your hand over my body in the sand
    I have your body and the core of your soul
    In my hands and in tranquil intuition

    I want this simple freedom to be
    I want this freedom so simple to see
    I want to see you growing to be
    Your yesterday, your today, simply to live

    In the sea
    Deep under the sea . . .

    I’ll have you
    Above the full moon
    I’ll have you
    Under the sea
    I’ll have you
    Venus glow
    Inside skin against skin

    Deep under the sea . . .


    Tantos Deseaw6kx


    Eternos ventos sussurrantes
    Revoltos mares dissonantes
    Sempre você
    Sempre você
    Sempre você

    Na solidão dos pensamentos
    Sempre você
    Em outros beiaw6kx e outras noites
    Sempre você

    Tantos deseaw6kx
    Sempre você
    Sempre você
    Onde respiro onde me afogo
    Sempre você

    So Many Desires

    Eternal whispering winds
    Rebellious dissonant seas
    Forever you
    Forever you
    Forever you

    In the solitude of thoughts
    Forever you
    In other kisses and other nights
    Forever you

    So many tortuous desires
    Forever you

    Where I breathe where I drown
    Forever you

    Selected Discography:

    Tanto TempoBebel GilbertoSix Degrees/Ziriguiboom2000
    São Paulo ConfessionsSubaZiriguiboom Discos1999
    (Released in the United
    States on Six Degrees Records
    in 2000)
    Fuá Na Casa de CabralMestre AmbrósioSony1999
    ClubbingEdson CordeiroSony1998
    Pierrot do BrasilMarina LimaMercury/PolyGram1998
    Katia BKatia BVulkana Music1998
    O SilêncioArnaldo AntunesBMG1996
    KizumbaJoão ParahybaVisom1996
    Janela dos SonhosTaciana BarrosNatasha Records1995
    Trio MocotóTrio MocotóRGE1973
    (Reissued 1997)

    Web sites of interest:

    Six Degrees Records 

    Crammed Discs/Ziriguiboom

    Fylkingen Records

    Katia B 

    João Parahyba

    OHM: Early Gurus of Electronic Music

    Electronic Music Foundation

    1 Paul Pignon is a Yugoslavian composer known for fragmenting music into
    tiny micro-ingredients and focusing on well-specified timbres. He is also acknowledged for
    the enormously important role he played in Sweden’s free improvisation movement.

    2 UNESCO is the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural

    3 Seminal percussionist João Parahyba is known for his innovation of the
    small timba drum set, his collaboration with Jorge Ben Jor in the development of a
    samba/rhythm ‘n’ blues hybrid, and his performances with, among others, Trio Mocotó,
    Paulinho da Viola, Dorival Caymmi, Dizzy Gillespie, and Michel Legrand.

    4 The Theremin, one of the first electronic instruments to attract public
    attention, was invented about 1924 by the Russian scientist whose name it bears.

    5 Pro-Tools, the brand name of the most popular hardware/software
    combination designed for recording and editing audio digitally onto the disk of a
    computer, is cheaper than multi-track professional tape, sounds (almost) as good (this is
    where the analog vs. digital controversy begins), and has allowed a wealth of new music to
    surface. When used by someone knowledgeable, it is an impressive tool—especially for
    editing—because you can cut, copy, and paste sound without destroying the original
    source. Used in conjunction with good microphones and preamps, Pro-Tools yields
    extraordinary results, which explains why many of the best recording facilities today are
    Pro Tools studios where the engineer uses a mouse and two monitors rather than a mixing

    6 Presented here is Cibelle Cavalli’s original text. The recording
    substitutes the English lyrics in the B section.

    Bruce Gilman, music editor for Brazzil, received his Masters
    degree in music from California Institute of the Arts. He leads the Brazilian jazz
    ensemble Axé and plays cuíca for escola de samba MILA. You can reach him
    through his e-mail: 

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    White-House Inspired

    If it weren’t for President Clinton, the song "Boquete" would probably still be in ...

    Peru Needs Brazil as a Partner, Says Expert

    The director of the Center of American Studies at the Cândido Mendes University, Clóvis ...

    Brazil, Listen to the Calles!

    Ever since their military regimes ended, Latin American countries have seen the calles, the ...

    Brazil, Through a Kid’s Eyes

    As the years went by, my longing to see all things Brazilian secretly grew. ...

    Brazil Ships 13,000 Live Cattle to Lebanon

    Another 13,000 live cattle were embarked, Wednesday, November 2, from the port of Rio ...

    Plentiful fresh water in Brazil

    Boiling point: A Survey of Hemispheric Water Policy

    From the Texas Oil Boom to the Deepwater Horizon tragedy, petroleum was undoubtedly the ...