Gilberto/Wanderley: A Certain Smile A Certain Sadness

It was in 1964 that Stan Getz’s sexy sax and Joao Gilberto’s equally sexy guitar work on Getz/Gilberto started the samba jazz craze, but its Helen of Troy was undoubtedly Gilberto’s wife Astrud. It was her singing “The Girl From Ipanema” that launched a thousand cheeky Brazilian jazz records. Of course this is historical accident--had Sonny Rollins found the right cute singer from his home island of Trinidad, we might have had a calypso jazz craze. Flash forward two years to 1966; Brazilian born organist Walter Wanderley has a Billboard hit with a track called “Summer Samba.” Verve record label honcho Creed Taylor, one of those music industry types who would work his grandmother to death if she were charting, rushed Wanderley into the studio to make two records in one week. Somebody ought to mention that production schedule to Radiohead. The first record was an instrumental album called Batucada, and the second paired Wanderley with Astrud Gilberto herself.

It is this second record that has been re-released by Verve, a collection of vocal tracks split roughly half and half between English and Portuguese songs. The whole package sings a siren song of mid-sixties lounge kitsch, from the matching bow ties worn by Wanderley’s trio on the cover, to the early stereo mix (on some tracks the bass and drums are in the left speaker, vocals and organ in the right), to the positively gut busting original liner notes. While it’s impossible not to wonder if Verve is releasing this only for twenty year olds who just discovered downtempo electronica, under the kitsch there is some lovely music here. Astrud Gilberto has one of the most recognizable voices in recorded history, and she shines throughout the record. Never a singer overly concerned with the finer nuances of hitting the right pitch, she is languidly and exquisitely flat as always. Wanderley manages to coax a responsive and lively organ sound, and some of the nicer moments of the record are where he overdubs piano in addition to the organ parts to chat sympathetically with slightly morose Astrud on “Here’s That Rainy Day.” The entire band seems perhaps a bit more comfortable with the Portuguese songs like “Nega Do Cabelo Duro” and “Voce Ja Foi Bahia.” That said, the band is fluid and confident playing both fully dissipated lounge dirges and snappy swinging numbers. Of particular note is drummer Claudio Slon--I think he is likely the result of a top secret Brazilian genetic engineering project producing squadrons of elite rhythm commandos.

As is often the case with Verve reissues, some of the best music on this collection is in the bonus tracks. In this case, “The Sadness of After” was probably left off because it sounds completely un-Brazilian. This exquisite duo piece with Astrud Gilberto and Wanderley transmits the emotion of imminent romantic loss as well as anything I have ever heard. Fascinating as well is the contrast between her singing on this song and the studio chatter before the song starts. Moments before delivering such melancholy, she spoke to the engineer sounding so cute and chipper that we might reasonably expect she was about to sing a quick novelty song.

After all of this praise, it is still crucial to note that this record is not a towering achievement. There are many, many jazz CDs that probably should be in a collection before this one, unless Brazilian music or organ trios are a particular interest, or if Astrud has a special place in your heart. Astrud Gilberto’s discography is surprisingly vast (she continued recording deep into the nineties) but for people like me there just is not enough of her. A final note on the sound quality. Like all recent Verve reissues, this one shows how good a CD can sound when done right. Rudy van Gelder’s recording is up to his celestial standards, but the mix is surprisingly pop, which is a nice way of saying the vocals are really up front. Also, the lather of reverb makes me wonder if Rudy had just unboxed a new toy, but even that just gives the slightest bump to the kitsch value of this lovely collection.