Milton Nascimento

One of Brazil's most talented singer/songwriters, Milton Nascimento is blessed with one of pop music's most perfect voices -- rich and soulful in its lower register, angelically pure in falsetto -- as well as the sort of melodic instincts that can exploit such a voice to its fullest. Understandably, that combination has made him a superstar in his homeland, where his recordings are treated with the fervor and respect Americans once lavished on Stevie Wonder. Yet even though numerous attempts have been made to translate Nascimento's appeal into American terms, he remains a cult artist at best in this country, a situation that is less an indictment of U.S. pop fans than a reflection of how quintessentially Brazilian Nascimento's music is.

That's not to say he's strictly a samba singer or bossa nova act. Like many Brazilian musicians who came up under the sway of tropicalismo, Nascimento was as in awe of the Beatles as any American rock fan; indeed, the first selection on Milton is a version of the Lõ Borges tune "Para Lennon e McCartney" ("For Lennon and McCartney"). But Nascimento's first American album, Courage, shows no hint of this, as his songs are given the same lush Creed Taylor production that had been lavished on similar efforts by samba stars like Antonio Carlos Jobim (who also worked with Taylor). Consequently, the album, though listenable enough, fails to offer any real sense of Nascimento's talents.

It would take seven years before he assembled another album for U.S. consumption, but Nascimento's Brazilian output improved steadily, offering a masterful synthesis of Brazilian pop styles, from the child-like cadences of "Ponta De Areia" (from Minas) to the hypnotic primitivism of "Promessas Do Sol" (from Geraes) and the dramatic splendor of "Milagre dos Peixes" (from Milagre dos Peixes). Musica do Mundo nicely summarizes this period.

In 1975, Nascimento was featured on the Wayne Shorter album Native Dancer, and Shorter returned the favor a year later by appearing -- along with Herbie Hancock -- on Milton, his second U.S. release. A wonderfully alluring album, it neither diluted Nascimento's sound nor made it seem in any way foreign, and the remakes of "Raca" and "The Call (A Cha-mada)" rival the Brazilian originals. But Journey to Dawn, which backs away from Milton's jazzy insouciance, isn't quite as exciting, and Nascimento's option with A&M was not renewed.

Meanwhile, back in Brazil, Nascimento was going strong, and made a major step forward with the politically charged mass, Missa dos Quilombos in 1982. That same year, the remarkably assured Anima was released in the U.S., which found the singer holding his own even against such a luminary as Caetano Veloso on "As Várias Pontas de Uma Estrela." Although his music was no more jazzy than before, Nascimento continued to record with American jazz-men. Shorter gets guest-star billing on the live A Barco dos Amantes, while Pat Metheny adds some delightfully colorful guitar to "Vidro e Corte" on Encontros e Despedidas (although that album's highlight is undoubtedly the Winnie Mandela tribute "Lágrima do Sul").

Yauarete strikes an inspired balance between American and Brazilian music, thanks in part to the Paul Simon cameo on "O Vendedor de Sonhos." (Nascimento appears on Simon's Rhythm of the Saints). The album is something of a turning point for Nascimento, as subsequent albums made much freer use of guest stars (such as James Taylor, who appears in a bilingual version of "Only a Dream in Rio" on Angelus) and cover songs (a dreamy "Old Man River" on Nascimento, a hushed remake of the Beatles' "Hello Goodbye" on Angelus). That's not to say Nascimento entirely left Brazil behind, as the winningly exotic Txai offers a breathtaking evocation of his homeland's indigenous culture. But the all-covers, multilingual Crooner seems to suggest that Nascimento would like a worldwide following, something he may yet achieve. (J.D. CONSIDINE)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide