Tom Zé: Parque Industrial in Brazil

Regardless of what one thinks about David Byrne’s work subsequent to the first two (three?) Talking Heads’ releases, he’s been instrumental in bringing to light a number of players and albums that deserve a second or third or even fourth look.

Years fell away between the last time Shuggie Otis issued and album and the date of Inspiration Information’s initial release and Luka Bop putting the disc out. And while that effort might still be the most popular from the imprint’s catalog, Byrne endeavored to resuscitate Tom Zé’s career after a trip to Brazil exposed the label honcho to a mid seventies album of work from the one time tropicalista.

The movement Zé’s most associated with was only existent for a relatively short time, but contributed to Brazil’s intellectual infrastructure by expanding ideas about culture, where it comes from, what can be included and what it actually constitutes. Os Mutantes may have become more popular than Zé over the last few decades, but he still functioned as the fulcrum on which the entire movement swung.

Perhaps not the best representation of his songwriting, but an apt representation of his music encompassing anything he was aware of is Zé’s 1972 self titled album. Along with what people expect from such an album – sunshine pop run through South American tendencies and African polyrhythmic ideas – is “Catecismo, Creme Dental E Eu,” which does include all of those aforementioned tenets of tropicalia. But introducing the song is a dark and troubling rumble of drums, horns and keys. It somehow apes the tone of Miles Davis’ electric period without focusing itself and eventually moving into territory that could have been an outtake from the original Smile sessions from the Beach Boys.

In noting the assumed affinity for anything from jazz fusion to early sixties’ pop was a main concern of Zé’s and the rest of his cohort. “Parque Industrial,” which might mean industrial park, points to the movements eye towards the dominant culture and the changes Brazil was undergoing as a nation. Extrapolating anything like that from a song rendered in a language I’m to daft to understand might not jive with reader’s sensibilities, but Zé hailed from a relatively rural part of Brazil. And while he shouldn’t be figured as a yokel, there were undoubtedly fixtures of modern cities that he was taken with once the musician moved to the nation’s capitol. So, while the music’s as entertaining as anything else from the tropicalia cult, this disc might serve as context for everything that was transpiring down there.