Brazilian Jive: From Samba to Bossa and Rap by David Treece (review)

In Brazilian Jive, David Treece strives to unpack the cultural struggles of music-making practices in Brazil by focusing on the development and trajectory of Brazilian popular music through analysis of the genres of samba, bossa nova, and rap. Treece suggests that through the study of music-making practices, one can discover deeper cultural connections than by studying the meaning of lyrics solely on a linguistic level. As a result, he chooses to focus on a thematic narrative of the above-mentioned musical genres rather than pursuing a broad survey of musical production practices in Brazil. He believes that Brazil is an ideal location for the study of music and meaning, as it is identified as a central component to Brazilian national identity.

The book is divided into six chapters, beginning with an introduction and general background. Chapters 2 and 3 present a detailed discussion and analysis of bossa nova, featuring three outstanding individuals who pioneered the genre: Antônio Carlos Jobim, Vinícius de Moraes, and João Gilberto. Chapter 4 pursues the avenue of Brazilian protest music in the mid- to late 1960s, and chapter 5 looks at how musical thematic material has been presented in film from the late 1950s to the turn of the century. The final chapter looks at the intersections of contemporary popular music making and identity in today’s Brazil; however, the analysis of rap music does not include the perspectives or lyrics of rap musicians.

Treece is a professor of Portuguese, and through exploration of the central relationship between speech and melody, he focuses closely on the moment when speech becomes song. He expands this discussion through analysis of the marginalization of disenfranchised communities, particularly those of African descent, concluding not only that music sustains and reinvigorates cultural identity but also that music helps to overcome alienation. He argues that musical genres such as bossa nova (which is often dismissed as simple background music because of its prerecorded prevalence in elevators and other public spaces) have remained strong as the result of a hybrid musical approach that combines African-derived circular modal themes that are interlocking and overlapping with European-derived modulating harmonic and tonal progressions, thus creating a space of simultaneous permanent and unresolved tensions that he calls “suspended animation” (67). Treece then follows this discussion with a detailed analysis of melody and lyrics, presenting the lyrics in a rising and falling vertical linear format (similar to the writings of John Cage in the 1960s and 1970s). Although this is effective in demonstrating the spatial relationship of the melodic line, it does not take into account the rhythmic component of the musical equation, as a key feature of Brazilian popular music is to either anticipate or fall slightly behind the principal beat. Perhaps a vertical line could be introduced to this visual depiction that could make this accessible to those who do not read conventional notation. While the analytical discussion is focused centrally on the close relationship and meaning between the melody and the lyrics, perhaps some attention could be directed toward how the meaning is transformed when lyrics are completely removed, resulting in purely instrumental versions, such as those commonly heard in many public spaces.

While Treece bases his findings largely on thoughtful analysis by Brazilian music scholars including Luiz Tatit and José Miguel Wisnick, the overall presentation of the material in the chapters is not even, as many elements of the chapters were published separately over a twenty-year span, resulting in contrasting references to a 1962 Carnegie Hall bossa nova concert as “somewhat shambolic” (62) in one instance and “a legendary concert” (125) in another. Moreover, descriptions of musical instruments could use more careful editing, as a berimbau (musical bow) is described as having a “metal or rubber string” (141), a repique (which has no snare) is identified as a “snare drum” (89), and a double-bell agogô is translated as “cowbell” (89).

Overall, Treece has presented a compelling...