Antonio Carlos Jobim

Blame "The Girl From Ipanema" -- that staple of elevators and supermarkets worldwide -- for the notion that the bossa nova is superficial Muzak for lounge aficionados. In reality, the bossa is one of Latin America's most poignant and exquisite genres, light and sophisticated, but at the same time able to distill the full meaning of the word saudade -- Portuguese for nostalgia, or the inherent bittersweetness of life. And there would be no bossa without Antonio Carlos Jobim and his equally important but criminally ignored songwriting partner, poet Vinicius de Moraes.

What makes Jobim's compositions so deceptively simple is his classically trained harmonic sense, which draws inspiration from mood masters such as Claude Debussy, Maurice Ravel, and Brazil's own Heitor Villa-Lobos, while remaining rooted in popular music. Together with Vinicius, singer/guitarist Joao Gilberto, and a few other collaborators, Jobim spearheaded the bossa wave in the late '50s. The movement's internationalization would arrive via the movie Orfeu Negro (for which Jobim cowrote the soundtrack) and the infamous 1963 Stan Getz and Joao Gilberto sessions that saw Gilberto's wife Astrud walk into the studio and, presumably at Getz's insistence, make her impromptu recording debut with her timeless, endearingly flat-toned version of "Garota de Ipanema."

Jobim's adequate piano playing and monotone vocals were no match for his extraordinary gift as a composer, which explains why he always surrounded himself with remarkable singers such as Miucha and the late Elis Regina. For a good taste of the velvety bossa free of most of the overexposed hits, try Elis & Tom. You'll recognize the opening track, since the impressionistic "Aguas de Marco" (Waters of March) is an obligatory standard for all Brazilian singers (and David Byrne, too). But the 13 other, lesser-known gems showcase Jobim at his peak: sad and playful at the same time, clearly inspired by the presence of the mercurial Regina.

The maestro's jazzy, instrumental side is represented with 1967's Wave, which many consider to be the best single work he ever released. The same could be said of Stone Flower, a languid, nocturnal masterpiece that was largely ignored upon its release. Urubu was even more radical, a violent departure from bossa territory, but well worth exploring. Antonio Brasileiro, Jobim's last album before his death in 1994, found him returning to familiar ground, having lost none of his ability to compose new bossa gems. Still, the album's highlight is a smoky duet with Sting on the scorching oldie "Insensatez" (How Insensitive).

Studious Jobim listeners will be tempted by Verve's three-CD set The Man From Ipanema. The first two discs offer a fine overview of Jobim's songs and instrumentals. Unfortunately, disc three becomes a trying experience by juxtaposing various versions of the same classics side by side. There are plenty of single-disc compilations out there that do a better job at showcasing the man's ever-influential genius. (ERNESTO LECHNER)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide