Carmin
Bïa
Audiogram ADCD10163
Rejskind: When I mention this new recording from the wonderful Brazilian-French singer, I'm asked the same question: "Is it as good as the previous two?"
     By and large the answer is yes, and it may be even better, but expect it to be different. The first impression is that there was more money available this time. The lush graphics and the photos, showing a barefooted and bare-legged Bïa lounging on a red overstuffed chair on a hilltop, reflect the available budget. So do the complex musical arrangements. Is the recording quality better? It is less intimate, certainly, and Bïa's textured voice is less forward, with more natural sibilance. Yet she is not so far back that we have to strain to make out what she is singing. Pretty good. Yet the accompaniment is solid, with a bottom end that reaches to bedrock when it needs to.
     But mere recording quality is not enough to justify a recommendation. What about the music itself?
     I found one disappointment, and only one. The previous recordings (titled respectively La mémoire du vent and Sources) feature wonderful guitar work by Bïa herself. This time she has more musicians, and she lets them do their work, concentrating on her singing. I'm glad to report that the singing is as mesmerizing as ever. Her voice is strong but effortless, with plenty of texture but no roughness. The rhythms are catching to the point of obsession. The songs, many of them composed by Bïa herself, are often superb.
     The one that gets the most radio play is Lobo, which has one of those gorgeous melodies that sticks in the mind (it's in Portuguese, with a French version on an unannounced track at the end). The CD's qualities don't end there, however. Try to sit still during Mariana, with its rapid Bossa Nova rhythm. A number of the songs are sambas. An example is Je n'aime pas, worth listening to for the words (in French) as well as the music...but don't miss the final line of the text. In the more languorous Helena she is accompanied by the rich and sonorous cello of Emmanuel Joussemet. There's a lot of flute on this album, played by Bïa's longtime accompanist Dominique Bouzon. On Dans mon cœur Bouzon plays a gigantic flute called an octobasse, which goes down to where your speakers may or may not choose to follow.
     There's really not a dull song on the disc, but there are two I can't avoid singling out. One is Eu Vi (I saw), a Portuguese translation by Bïa of a fine old song by French Caribbean chansonnier Henri Salvador. The other, which closes the album, is titled Inti. It is a very old traditional song in the ancient Aymara language of the Indians of the Andes, and it is at once majestic and moving.
     Well before this third recording came out, I heard Bïa sing it in concert. Which leads me to my final recommendation. If she's singing anywhere near you, go by dog sled if you must, but...just go.