Collab: listening to it non-stop these days

I have a hard time defining who my favorite singer is; and it varies according to stages and becomes more difficult as one discovers new or old talent that I had not heard before. However, for a long time now I have been certain about my favorite singer (and I think she will always be my favorite). I like many of her albums, but I also know that my favorite one is Tuaan album from 2009 that contains a track called Backwaterin which there is a mandolin solo that is a treatise on communication. Thanks to Maria Bethania I discovered Hamilton from Holland.

Hamilton from Holland is one of the most communicative musicians linked to the jazz, Latin jazz, instrumental or experimental music scene that I know. Hamilton has taken the mandolin -that unusual instrument in these fields- to another level. In fact, from my modest perspective, his transformation of the instrument with respect to the traditional one (more than 20 years ago, to the four pairs of traditional strings he added another pair, in C, towards the bass), has privileged the expressive, to the detriment of the subliminal ostentation of superiority inherent to the inhabitants of populations of instrumentalists. His discographic work is exemplary in terms of production concepts. From his vast discography I highlight two discs: Samba de Chico and Bituca housesound tutorials.

And then life comes along and gives you the gift of a record by Hamilton de Holanda with none other than Gonzalo Rubalcaba. With Gonzalo, who for me is one of the summits in that of communicating introspection from the difference of his markedly personal sound and his style marked -in my opinion- by a great virtue that not many have: multi-decoding.

Whoever wants to understand how virtuosity looks in the mirror, how it dialogues with itself, should listen to this album. Collab is called, and it is also an ode to fluidity, to dynamics, it is referential in the art of accompaniment (the accompanying moments are as enjoyable as the soloists). This album is like a pleasant conversation of several themes. Being the timbral origin so disparate, the work of those who designed the production deserves a lot of respect, because the sound exceeds the expectations that one already has when knowing that they participated in the production. cracks such as Carlos Álvarez, Gabriel Musy or Andre Dias.

I take this opportunity to let people know where I stand who are behind the supreme quality production concepts that reign in Brazilian music of any style, and how influential they were in works I once undertook. I admire people like Moogie Canazio, Felipe Tichauer, Marcelo Saboia, Gabriel Pinheiro, Álvaro Alencar, Carlos Freitas, Roger Freret, Ricardo Dias, Leo Bracht and, of course, Gabriel Musy and Andre Dias among a long list of professionals, who I take for granted that their premise is to give soul to each recording. The Brazilian sound is something else.

A great friend of mine, recently deceased, to whose wisdom I owe a lot, always said something similar to "he who has a bomb can play as many notes as he wants, and he who doesn't carry it, not a single note will sound". You can imagine then the disaster that supposes that whoever "does not carry it" has an incontinence of notes or is a harmonic bodybuilder. Therein lies the explanation for many things. I know, because I know, that some of his colleagues (especially those who are into "bodybuilding") do not understand why Gonzalo does and others do not, and that applies to those who wonder why Brad Mehldau does, why Antonio Adolfo does or why Joey Alexander does. The trick is in the communication, because of course, without "taking it" you can't communicate.

This is a great molar is about preferences, it has no pretensions of a review or anything like that. May it only be useful for you to listen to Collaba record that I can't stop listening to these days.