While the wraparound spine-sleeve descriptor sheet that accompanies on Cyro Baptista's fourth Tzadik album Infinito claims that these are "experimental Brazilian pop songs," those who have come to love his work on his previous three albums for the label shouldn't be worried. The notes that accompany the label's offerings have been known to contain hyperbole and (very occasionally) misleading information. For starters, Baptista is backed here with his current band, Banquet of the Spirits on a good chunk of the set, and is augmented by other players. These include Anat Cohen, Erik Friedlander, Peter Scherer, Romero Lubambo and at least a dozen others. The second thing to remember is that Baptista cannot be reined in by any classification. He is simply one of the most limitless musicians we have -- as evidenced by a list of the people he has played behind as a sideman, from Yo Yo Ma and Laurie Anderson, Herbie Hancock, Trey Anastasio, and Paul Simon, to even crusty, musty musical conservatives like Wynton Marsalis and Sting. There are vocals on several cuts here, most notably the title track opener (which is reprised at the very end sans voices), "Batida de Côco," (composed with Hermeto Pascoal and Teese Gohl), the gorgeous "Adeus Às Filhas," and the charging "Cantor Cuidadoso." None of these tunes could actually be called "pop" songs in any recognizable sense of the word. These are wild adventures that meld numerous Brazilian forms from maracatu and samba to choro, and sertanejo to brega, as well as música gaúcha and frevo. In addition, various Afro-Cuban musical traditions, including son and charanga, as well as several other Latin and African musics, jazz, and funk are encompassed. Numerous musics exist within a single composition. In other words, this is Baptista's expansive vision of music and he has the chops -- as a composer, multi-instrumentalist, bandleader and arranger -- to pull it all off and make it sound easy. Period. Check "Kwanza," one of two cuts graced by Cohen's soprano saxophone. A funky guitar riff rides atop congas, claps, melodica, and keyboards until she and several other drums enter the picture. The rhythmic pulses are ever shifting even as the various sections all inform that main statement and melody. Half way through, Cohen and Brian Marsella's melodica play a Sephardic Jewish folk melody via a harmonic statement that resembles Frank Zappa's early-'70s work, and the dynamics are utterly transformed before something else again emerges eventually to take the tune out. This is indicative of the music that appears on Infinito. Lubambo's "Pro Flàvio" features only his acoustic guitars and Baptista on an array of percussion instruments and resembles a dead cross between flamenco and samba, yet contains the melody and counterpoint of Manuel del Falla's influence. Despite the kaleidoscopic ambition of Infinito, and its sometimes frenetic pace, the album is quite accessible, and a pleasure to listen to and indulge in. If only most popular music, Brazilian or otherwise, were this colorful and exciting. This is another winner in a catalog full of them. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
While Brazilian master percussionist Cyro Baptista appears on many Tzadik recordings, and is nearly ubiquitous in John Zorn's stable, this is only the third recording under his own name on the imprint. Listeners last experienced him as a leader on the greatest party record most have never heard, Love the Donkey, at the end of 2005. He used a large cross-section of players on that album and on its predecessor, Beat the Donkey, from 2002. On Love the Donkey he made urban music -- such as jazz, late-era samba, vanguard classical, and improvised music -- serve Brazilian folk forms, while on Banquet of the Spirits he widens his musical focus while paring his roster. Baptista fronts a new quartet here that performs as a group on most of these cuts, and uses very select guests on certain tunes. The core players are, of course, Baptista on more than is prudent to name here, Shanir Ezra Blumenkranz on various basses and oud, Brian Marsella on many keyboard instruments from pianoforte to accordion to melodica to Hammond B-3, and drummer Tim Keiper, who also doubles on various percussion instruments. Other players on various tunes include (but are not limited to) cellist Erik Friedlander, vocalist Hassan Ben Jaffar, and guitarist Cadu Costa (who co-produced the set with Baptista), and executive producer Zorn even bleats his alto saxophone for a change on one track. On the back flap of the handsome CD booklet (typical of Tzadik) is the term "Anthropofagia Equals Cultural Cannibalism," reflecting The Anthropophagite Manifesto written by Oswald de Andreade in 1928, which was so influential on Brazilian modernism and reflected a new phase not only in art from that country, but on the entire Western art world as well. Baptista breaks it down this way: "Anthropo: Greek for 'human being'; Phagy, Fagia: Greek for 'to eat.'" Sounds reasonable, and he uses this to form his own manifesto in the album's final track, which relates a history of the colonization of Brazil and the regurgitation of all that it has "eaten," with swelling B-3s, slide bass, sound effects, percussion, a drum kit, and a backing chorus. This is one that can be heard over and over again -- not a one-time spoken word deal at all. The preceding 43 minutes are among the most sophisticated and yet simple and "primitive" Baptista has ever recorded. The latter aspect is inseparable from the former. Rhythm is the context, but the melodies that emanate from these rhythms are another, while harmonic and intervallic structures birthed from both are also inextricable, because they are something else now entirely removed from their original cultures and eaten by colonized and exiled cultures (Brazilian, Arab, Jewish, Aboriginal). This wild, haunting, elegant, humorous, sad, sometimes vulgar, and very accessible brew is a glue that not only does not hide its seams, but uses them as pathways inside this new world. It's almost ridiculous to try to describe any of the music here, but there is one moment, at its most absurd, where a brutalized beauty offers a look under its clothes and at the violent -- yet swinging and grooving -- portrayals of cultural cannibalism: "Macunaima" (translated as "A Hero, Warrior and Character"). Tough on-the-edge post-bop jazz piano meets samba, heavy metal, and Indian folk song. It's so hideously loud and obvious it can deceive. Yet, upon listening closer, it's simply ingenious. It also leads into the gorgeous vocal "Mumakata," where berimbaus, mbiras, talking drums, balafon, piano, gimbri, tabla, and a vocal chorus cover the listener in multi-part chanted harmony and almost inexpressible poetic ecstasy (with a small trace of Scottish and Celtic folk melodies tossed into the mix courtesy of a muted oud), and transform themselves into a maqqam in the instrumental break. Banquet of the Spirits isn't just a step forward for Baptista, it's a leap; it's the record he's been hinting at since his debut, where he interpreted the works of Heitor Villa-Lobos. And as such, it is undeniable in how provocative, powerful, and deeply enjoyable it is as a listening experience. Whether one relishes "progressive," "modern," "primitive," "art," or "pop" music, this one's for you. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Three years after his Tzadik debut, Beat the Donkey, Brazilian master percussionist Cyro Baptista returns with its mirror image, Love the Donkey. Like its predecessor, Baptista employs a host of players, some from the Latin jazz scene, fellow Brazilians, and some notable downtown faces like Jamie Saft (who produced and engineered this set), Mark Feldman, and Peter Apfelbaum, to name a few. This is a wild and woolly brew that parties from start to finish. While there is some abstract experimentation here, when it is applied, it is integrated into the whole of what Baptista and his collaborators are going for: a solid program of folk melodies and tribal polyrhythms that takes no prisoners. They weave jazz, new music, classical music, and even rock (the most amazing cover of Led Zep's "Immigrant Song" ever recorded, and one that rivals the original) into the brave, songlike heart of Brazil's wonderfully rich musical tapestry. Baptista -- who plays over two dozen instruments here -- holds court over a group of players, dancers, singers, handclappers, and who knows who else over the course of 14 tunes. This is wild, untamed, and wondrously joyous music. It has no seams, it is truly international, and it is ultimately visionary. Baptista restrained himself last time out; he sought texture and nuance on many of the pieces on Beat the Donkey; he sought to bring jazz and new music to samba in a new way. Here, he goes back before samba and MPB to the old ways, where music was the lifeblood of the people, all the people. With Love the Donkey, Baptista has done what was seemingly impossible. As urban musicians strive to learn more about roots music to incorporate into their sound, he has done the reverse: found the music of the city, of the modern, and of the postmodern, and made it serve folk music. In this wild and woolly party, where almost anything goes, the ancient is tied inseparably to the present, and creates a new and joyous future. Not since Airto's Free has a musician done so much to address culture clash and undo it without anger, without academic pretentiousness or theoretical distance. This is street music, for any street anywhere. It may initially come from Brazil, but it is available to anyone who wishes to encounter it and take it in. For intense listening or for raucous partying, Love the Donkey is a masterpiece. The disc also includes a three-minute video, playable on your computer, that offers a view of this wild band live. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Make no mistake -- Beat the Donkey (translated from the Portuguese "Pau la Mula" as "let's go" or "let's do it") is not a reference to animal cruelty, but percussion Cyro Baptista's calling card to party. This debut recording for the group is split into fragments of small ensembles, a rotating cadre of players (a sextet at best) from many different disciplines. They range from riotous celebratory dance to multi-ethnic elements, cerebral, lighthearted, at times goofy and at other times heavy. There is no real core band, but rather a Gypsy circus loose association with Baptista clearly the madcap ringleader. Brazilian music can be the center of Beat the Donkey, but also Balkan sounds, nomadic music, rock and funk, and a festive attitude that surely appeals to summertime outdoor merrymaking. Carnival meets hard rock circus at a stoner party during "Caranguejo Estrela Brilhante" (The Crab and the Shining Star) with fuzz guitar from Viva DeConcini and electric cello by Erik Friedlander; an expressive madlib rock & roll style identifies "O Canto da Ema," centered by Marc Ribot's wah-wah guitar; and the ethnic "Mr. Bugaloo" is a percussion workout accented by John Zorn's sax and the accordion of Toninho Ferragutti. On the softer side is the excellent "Parar de Fumar," a pleasant straight samba with featured clarinetist Anat Cohen. A circular acoustic guitar from Ribot during "Cyrandeiro" recalls West African kora music, while the sweet "Sapo and the Prince" has the wonderful vocalist Luciana Souza singing encouragement to a frog reluctantly turned prince, shaded by blown bottle sounds and finger snaps. "Rio de Jakarta" is the perfect melding of Balinese gamelan and layered Brazilian rhythms; a 6/8 "Ama" is rife with handclaps, the melody expertly played by guitarist Romero Lubambo similar to the Gypsy anthem "Dark Eyes"; while bloogles or sound tubes send the band into space during the dark and bizarre "Sweet Cuica" and the percussion-based "Funk I," the latter piece recorded live at La Plaza in Boston via radio station WGBH-FM. At some point, a more extensive live recording with a fixed band should be in the offering to fully hear Beat the Donkey's worldwide, expressive, and exuberant repertoire. ~ Michael G. Nastos, All Music Guide
Since the early '80s, Cyro Baptista has been the percussionist of choice for many a downtown New York ensemble, perhaps achieving greatest prominence in John Zorn's Bar Kokhba chamber group. Here, Baptista performs music written or inspired by the Brazilian composer Heitor Villa Lobos and the result is a fine compendium, bristling with Brazilian rhythms, earthy folk songs and impassioned accordions among other delights. Happily shedding any traces of irony (which mar many a "downtown" venture), his band wades thigh deep into the songs, led by Baptista's wonderfully guttural vocals. And what a fine band! With New York stalwarts like guitarist Marc Ribot and bassist Greg Cohen joined by Brazilians Chango Spasiuk (accordion) and Romero Lubambo (acoustic guitar), Baptista has a assembled a group both light on its feet and capable of negotiating the trickiest of rhythmic passages and deliriously romantic melodies with wit, enthusiasm, and grace. Highly recommended. ~ Brian Olewnick, All Music Guide