Someone once described Portuguese as the ultimate WTF language: It sounds, especially to anyone familiar with romance languages, both hauntingly familiar and totally not like anything else on the planet.
That's kind of true of the music of Brazil. Let's face it, as a nation-state or whatever, Brazil kicks extreme pop music ass. I still love it, even after suffering through Caetano Veloso's insanely pompous and self-congratulatory autobiography, which, if you've read it, you know is saying a lot.
Carlinhos Brown has, as it turns out, played with Veloso. And made something of a name for himself, though I think more as a producer than an artist in his own right. I found this fabulous CD a month or two ago on Steinway Street in Queens at a little Brazilian bodega--the only Brazilian bodega, in fact, I've ever found in NYC.