Guinu, multi-instrumentalist and producer originally from Minas Gerais, created with Palago one of the most vibrant records of recent years. It is not a simple exercise in "retro" style, but a powerful declaration of love forAfro-Brazilian funk and the Candomble.
The album is a bubbling cauldron of beats. If you love artists like Jorge Ben Jor, Marcos Valle or i Black Rio gang, you will like this album.
- The Afro-Beat soul: The opening song, Palago, sets the record straight: hypnotic percussion, roaring horns and a bassline that sounds like it came out of a Lagos recording studio in the 70s. It's the perfect meeting between Fela Kuti's Afrobeat and Brazilian melody.
- Psychedelia and Tropicalism: In tracks like Haja Deus, Guinu slows down the tempo, inserting analog synths and wah-wah guitars that create a suspended, almost dreamlike atmosphere.
- The Analog Africa Impact: The fact that it was published by Analog Africa it is a hallmark. The recording quality is excellent: every snare hit and every vibration of the Agogô are crystal clear.
If songs like the title track keep us anchored to the earth and the ritual, it's with songs like "Electromandinga" that the disk takes off into hyperspace.
The song is permeated by that "Samba Doido" (crazy samba) which made Jose Roberto Bertrami and his companions famous. We hear those analog synthesizers (Fender Rhodes and space synths) floating above a very tight rhythm section. It's the same feeling as songs like Linha do Horizonte o Vôo Sobre o Horizonte, we're talking about Azymuth but with a more raw and earthly push. The "mandinga" (the magic, the spell of the Afro-Brazilian tradition) here is becoming electro. It's cosmic jazz-funk that pulsates with energy.
If Electromandinga represents the cosmic and "Azymuthian" mind of the album, the text that recalls the names of the divinities is his pulsating blood. Guinu isn't just singing; is performing an act of Axe (vital energy).
The text is a rallying call for the forces of nature and divine archetypes:
- Ogun, Xangô, Exú: The opening is powerful. We have iron and war (Ogun), justice and thunder (Xangô), and the messenger, the one who opens the ways (Exú). Without Exú, there is no communication between human and divine.
- Yansã (Oiá) and Obá: The female warrior deities, linked to the wind and the storm, bring a charge of strength and emancipation to the song.
- Oxum and Yemanjá: The element of water. The sweetness of gold and rivers (Oxum) and the majesty of the ocean, the great mother (Yemanjá).
- Logun Edé and Ossain: The balance of the forest and the secrets of medicinal leaves.
- Axé, Orumila: The closure is a seal of blessing and supreme wisdom (Orumilá is the witness of destiny).
Inserting these names on a funk carpet is not an aesthetic choice, but a recovery of identity. While the Azymuth-style synths travel into the future, Orixás' singing takes the listener back to the earth, the mud and the African roots of Brazil. That's what the critics call it Brazilian Afro-Futurism: using technology (electronics, wah-wah pedals) to honor ancestrality.