The original version of this song, “Aquarela do Brasil,” has a storied history that I invite you go read about. It is one of the most famous Brazilian songs, has been covered by Frank Sinatra among many others, and is usually a samba tune.
On his generationally ingenious 2006 album Point, Japanese artist Cornelius turns this song into a sensuously syncopated acoustic ballad with background nature sound effects, sung by two automated voices, one “male” one “female," sharing duet harmony.
The lyrics are not the original but an entirely new set from the Sinatra version. I am not sure if Sinatra was the source of these, but the effect is to remove the nationalist leanings of the original tune and replace it with a simple memory of place and love. When robots duet about this shared past romance, it is a sweetness that Pixar later seemed to mine for the relationship in Wall-E.
How fantastic is this recording. The whole album Point is replete with these evocative nature sounds, but “Brazil” is the culmination, reposing amongst crickets, distant bird chirps, coyote yips, and the best of a breezy, warm night.
The guitar is hypnotic and played like slap funk. The digital and analog percussion click and pop as one organism, in the same way forest of sound does. They form a beat of ultimate cool. It is a rich, long instrumental opening designed by a consumate instrumental composer who played with vocals in the most minimal way possible in all his songs.
Digital background voices “ooh” with unnatural sustain. The main singing melody enters with old-style warble, simultaneously the height of futurism. A lovely little duet ensues until the song takes the Sinatra version’s middle section and refracts it into multi-voice loops. At the climax of the song, the automated voice shows "his" personality by bending tones in a way human voices will never achieve. Maybe it’s this robot’s quiet moment of rebellion in the excitement of love.
The ending is carried, of course, by a delicate flute repeating the song’s simple, dashing main melody. The percussion picks up a tick. The background sounds grow thicker. Every minuscule sound is managed until it all carefully recedes to silence.