The 1960s was a turbulent decade for the country of Brazil, especially following the coup d’état against President João Goulart in 1964 which would thrust the country into a military dictatorship lasting until 1985. Needless to say, the Cold War was far-reaching. Still, typical of political upheaval and turmoil, social activism, like a flower through concrete, struggled to make itself seen and heard. After all, what is a country without its people?

The term Tropicália (or Tropacalismo) comes from a Brazilian musical and visual artistic movement that promotes the avant-garde. More specifically, the word tends to exemplify the mélange of Bossa Nova, Bahian folk music and progressive rock. Lyrically embellished with esoteric poetry spoken or sung over the resonating beats and punches of Samba drums and various tropical percussions, Tropicália’s seemingly blithe and carefree sound is firmly grounded in remonstration. With a propensity for Bossa Nova’s melodic nuance, Tropicália raucously dives headlong into social upheavel with the grace and agility of any Joe Strummer tune.

Os Mutantes are arguably the most significant group to emerge from the Tropicália movement. Formed in 1965 in São Paulo by the Baptista brothers, Sergio and Arnaldo, Os Mutantes energetically took their cue from the likes of The Beatles and Jimi Hendrix. Frequently collaborating with notable Brazilian musicians Gilberto Gil and Caetano Veloso, the band has made a lasting impression on their musical successors and spawned an entire movement that continues to influence the likes of Beck Hansen, The Flaming Lips, Stereolab, Belle & Sebastian, Sean Lennon and many, many more. You can hear their impact on many early Velvet Underground tunes and even the late Kurt Cobain cited Os Mutantes as having a major affect on his music.

The tradition began quite simply with the band’s elegant and orchestral self-titled first LP. The record remains, not only one of my favorite Os Mutantes albums, but also one of my all-time top 100 albums. Notable tracks include A Minha Menina and Bat Macumba , the latter being an upbeat and happy-go-lucky romp fit for any beach party. And may I also admit that I like the Rolling Stones-like album art.

Os Mutantes’ sophomore release attempts to strip away the layers and reveal the rawness of the group. At times the recording finds them revisiting the practicality and traditions of their predecessors, without forfeiting their unique sound. Track three, Dia 36, however, is a meditative psychedelic sortie that momentarily escapes the confines of the album’s scope. And although some listeners will not appreciate its inclusion on the LP, others will find it to be haunting and welcoming. The subsequent tracks Dois Mil E Um and Algo Mais more than make up for this brief detour though. On the song Rita Lee, the Baptista brothers lovingly woo their lead singer with a harmonious Spanish sonnet, while horns and hi-hats ramble on melodically like something off of The Kinks’ Powerman album.

In America an album like Technicolor would be considered the moment when a band officially “jumps the shark”. It is a record for those who otherwise lack all appreciation for Os Mutantes’ musical styling. The group actually re-recorded some of their bigger hits with a more practical and commercially viable sound. And you know what? It’s really good. Certainly it is more accessible to the masses than the rest of their catalog and never attempts to stray too far from formula, but in that sense, it’s more of a Bossa Nova record than it is Tropicália …and some people will dig that. I love the original versions of many of the tracks off of Technicolor, but still there are a handful of re-recorded tunes that I prefer over the originals. I won’t tell you which ones as not to influence your ear…but if this record can be taken as a re-imagining, one may find themselves appreciating both versions of a song.  As an aside, Sean Lennon designed the album artwork.

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