BRAZILIAN GIRLS ::


They're not Brazilian, and only one is a girl. Yeah, we know already.

In August of 2003, after taking a gig as musical director for a short term but high profile tour, I got off the road for good. I'd had enough of it, it had had enough of me; it was time to go back to my day job.

A few weeks after getting back I was contacted by Hector Castillo, who used to be my assistant at the Looking Glass Studio. We had worked together on a number of projects - David Bowie, The Cure, and Earl Slick's solo record among others. Hector had gone on to engineer by then, taking on local bands in addition to continuing work with various Looking Glass clients. He brought over a CD of a band he was co-producing and engineering to get my take on it. It was still a work in progress - only four tracks, not finished - but it was really interesting ... equal parts jazz, house, tango, reggae and whatever else, but mixed up and confused and complex ... yet honest and, without a doubt, unique. The vocalist had a singular approach, a tone I hadn't really heard before - an attitude that was challenging and confident, yet somehow fragile. The whole vibe was pretty captivating, so I was intrigued. Hector left me a copy and I wished him luck with the rest of the recording.

They were called Brazilian Girls. Naturally I made the assumption that everyone makes - that they're female musicians from Rio or wherever. In reality the band were all local NYC musicians, which usually means that they come from some other place - and what places those other places are. Vocalist Sabina Sciubba is a native of Rome who grew up in Germany and France; she speaks an untold number of languages and sings in five on this record. Didi Gutman (keyboards) hails from Argentina. Drummer Aaron Johnston comes from Kansas, and bassist Jesse Murphy from California. It's an eclectic mix from the get-go; once you stir up their individual musical sensibilities and experiences in the collective skillet, it gets even weirder.

Like most bands, Brazilian Girls needed that collision of chance and opportunity, and so they had theirs at NuBlu, a small after hours type club on Avenue C in the East Village. They would refine their songs while playing for their steadily growing audience on Sunday nights at 12:30 am; despite the time slot, the place was always packed. They had a jazz/jam band approach to their performances where anything goes as far as song structure, parts, and lyrics. You knew they wouldn't play the same song the same way twice, which could be very exciting (at a gig) or a tad frustrating (in a recording session).

A couple of months later Hector called me back and asked me if I might like to get involved with the band. They were getting close to finishing an albums' worth of material and they needed some objectivity by that point in the process. A couple of the tracks were slightly lost - they couldn't reach a common consensus on where to take them, and they didn't object to a little outside input. So, I went to a show at Joe's Pub in the Village and got a dose of what it is they do, which I couldn't for the life of me put a label on - I still can't. All I knew was that it had a vibe and a voice and memorable songs ... what else really matters?

Plus, I'm getting anti-label at my old age, anyway.

So, they came over to my studio with a hard drive and we were on our way. What first struck me about them was their bond as a band. Brazilian Girls are nothing if not a shared vision; hours, sometimes days, are spent collectively weighing and debating most artistic and business decisions. They write their songs together, then edit and refine them by bouncing off each other (to the point of passing around ProTools sessions). With a number of bands it's usually about one key person, their ideas and direction and songs; many of the others could be any one of a number of competent musicians. Not here ... if they swapped out any member, Brazilian Girls would be a completely different beast. Their music takes chances and left turns, making what would otherwise be odd juxtapositions of style seem completely natural. Sabina's lyrics are on an equal level, with everything from frank observations about life in NYC, to offhand mentions of weed and sex that slip right by.

We began with a song called 'Sirene de la Fete.' I basically just tried to focus the track a bit, which meant ensuring that everything had its own space to speak, and minimizing any sonic clutter. We messed with the form for quite a while, trying numerous nips and tucks; Didi added more keyboard parts and textures with his laptop, and brought over his Wurlitzer electric piano (which we miked in the bathroom as usual.) Given the new structure, Sabina decided to sing it again. A similar process took place for the two other tracks I worked on, 'Don't Stop' and 'Dance 'til the Morning Sun.'

Where's Pacman?

It was around this time that they asked me to mix their album. It was a similar case of wanting a little bit of focusing, somebody to lend a sonic sensibility that fit the material as a whole, and to add a few surprises. As I hadn't mixed many dance or reggae-tinged records in the last few years, it was a real treat to revisit that whole head and return to a certain set of roots (essentially, my late '80's entry into the NYC studio scene). We worked at two different studios - RPM (now closed, sadly ... too bad, as they had a wonderful sounding Neve 8068 desk as well as a very trippy '70's vibe) and that old favorite, the Looking Glass. For me, it was the beginning of a transition between Logic Audio and ProTools; I had been completely in the Logic camp since 1995, but by the end of 2004 the reverse would be the case.

Brazilian Girls were a fun bunch to be sure, and for the most part they enjoyed the process. There are always stressful moments when visions and ideas collide, and how bands negotiate those situations is a good indicator of where they're headed and of their longevity. It was refreshing to see four strong willed people put the band ideal before their individual needs in every case. Hopefully they'll be around a while.