Ideas in Progression

A digital space where music, travel, and storytelling converge.

Author: Ever

  • Not your Average Playlist: Monkey3

    Not your Average Playlist: Monkey3

    Monkey 3: Switzerland’s Cosmic Stoner Rocket Ship

    Some bands just click for me instantly. You’ve got that weird Swiss outfit from Lausanne who’ve been blasting through psychedelic desert rock since 2001, and honestly, they deserve way more attention than they get. Monkey3 (sometimes written Monkey 3) aren’t your typical four-piece—they’re building vast instrumental soundscapes that feel like scoring a film nobody’s made yet. Two decades in, they’re still firing on all cylinders, releasing proper albums like 2024’s Welcome To The Machine.

    This lot don’t bother with vocals most of the time. Why fuck around with singing when you can just let the riffs do the talking?

    Who’s Actually In It

    The core lineup’s held together through the bullshit for most of their existence:
    Boris plays the guitar
    Walter on drums
    dB on all sorts of things with keys
    Jalil is the bass master at the moment

    Where They Come From Sonically

    They’ll namecheck constantly these: Kyuss, Black Sabbath, and Pink Floyd—which is basically holy trinity status for stoner psych. But they’ve also thrown 35007, Jane’s Addiction, Led Zeppelin, and AC/DC into the mix.

    What It Reminds You Of

    If you’re trying to pitch Monkey3 to a mate who hasn’t heard them, say this: Samsara Blues Experiment, Karma to Burn and early Kyuss. Long tracks that breathe. Riffs that loop and evolve rather than punch you in the face.

    Five Tracks You Need To Know

    Alright, here’s where it counts. These are the essential cuts:

    1. Watching You (feat. John Garcia)

    ▶️ Watch “Watching You” on YouTube

    2. Kashmir (feat. Tony Jelencovich)

    3. Once Upon A Time In The West

    4. Rackman

    5. One Of These Days

    My Verdict: If you’ve ever liked anything heavy, psych-adjacent, or just appreciate a band that plays longform instrumental jams without apology, Monkey3 are worth the investment. They’re not chasing trends, they’re not selling out, and they’re still putting out great records.

    Give ’em a listen. Make it loud!

    e.

  • Ars Gratia Artis: Where to Start From

    Ars Gratia Artis: Where to Start From

    Maurizio Nannucci – Where to Start From

    If you’re anything like me and constantly find yourself staring at a blank canvas (or screen, or wall, or life itself) wondering where the hell to begin, this book is worth keeping nearby. It’s not a how-to guide in the traditional sense, which is probably why it works so well.

    Nannucci, as those in the know, has spent decades wrestling with questions that artists quietly ask themselves in the middle of the night: What comes before the work? Can starting point ever truly exist? The answers aren’t neat, and thank for that.

    My one-line comment on Goodreads was “Visual freedom” – which sounds like lazy shorthand until you sit with this book for a bit. What Nannucci offers isn’t permission to do whatever you want (that’s too easy). It’s something sharper: a framework for thinking about beginnings without being paralysed by them. The text is spare, the images do the heavy lifting, and the whole thing moves with a quiet confidence that most art books lack.

    I won’t pretend this is light reading. But it’s also not the kind of book that treats you like you need explaining. There’s an honesty to it – a refusal to oversell the process of creation or wrap it in inspirational bullshit. That alone earns respect.

    For anyone working in visual arts, design, or just trying to make sense of their own practice, this sits comfortably on the shelf alongside the books that actually stay relevant.

    Five stars, hands down.

    Til next time!

    e.

  • Beyond the Postcard: Brazil Trip Journal

    Beyond the Postcard: Brazil Trip Journal


    A Brazilian Trip Back to Roots (with a Twist):

    Back to Roots trip because I was born in Brazil. Somewhere in the southern part of the country.

    This particular trip, however, was special. It was my future wife’s first time there. And for someone who’d left decades ago, it meant I could explore my own birth country for the first time too. Irony isn’t dead; it just speaks Portuguese.

    The Lay of the Land – And Some Places Best Left Untouched

    São Paulo. We only saw the airport. Because we landed there. Honestly, we’d had our quota of metropolises. I don’t like them that much—too many people running in circles, pretending they have somewhere better to be.

    Rio de Janeiro. Copacabana is overrated and dirty. I can say that because I know—I’ve been there and I can. Way better is Parque da Tijuca, or go to Ilha Grande, or better still, visit Paraty. Do yourself a favour: be a dignified person and don’t go to the Favela Tours. Respect the locals. They are not animals in a zoo to be observed. Save your conscience and skip the spectacle.

    Fortaleza. Stays warm year-round, so outdoor life, markets and street food run twelve months a year. We met nice people, found decent beaches and tasted good food. But the noise and crowded streets are the daily background, not the exception. Bring earplugs. Or patience. Or both.

    Maranhão. Parque Nacional dos Lençóis Maranhenses—just go there. We rolled around with buggies, vans and 4×4s up and down the dunes. Way too many dunes at the end, but I’ll give them that—it’s spectacular.

    Salvador, Bahia. I did not like it. Dirty, chaotic and rotten public infrastructure. Like in most parts of Brazil, the people were kind and nice, though. The city itself? Less charming.

    Paraná: Waterfalls and Waiting for Panthers

    Moved on to Paraná. Enjoyed Iguazu Falls by boat (get wet, it’s worth it). Visited Parque das Aves—a fantastic experience, and I’m not just saying that. We booked the special tickets that allowed us to have an interactive experience with the animals, feeding toucans and visiting the animal hospital, to name a few to not spoil the surprises. One of the best things we did.

    Stayed at Hotel das Cataratas with the intention of seeing panthers roaming around during the night. We did not see any. Still, worth the price for the location alone.

    Took the slow, lovely Serra Verde Express train to Morretes through the mountains.

    In Curitiba, we did the touristic things: Jardim Botânico, Museu Niemeyer, Museu Indígena… the stuff tourists do. No shame in it; this time.

    Santa Catarina – State of Origin

    Then we reached Santa Catarina—my “state of origin”. Explored Florianópolis, which we prefer to call Floripa. We do not get along very well with Mr. Floriano Peixoto…

    Spent a short stay in my “town of origin”. Encountered capybaras swimming in the river and crossing the streets. Lots of nature, green mountains surrounding the city.

    The Return: Vienna in Silence

    Back to Austria via München—which I like very much. Not because of the Oktoberfest! Never been there. Try the Old Town instead. And one of the breweries, like Augustiner.

    Funny fact: after arriving in Vienna, I immediately reached for my noise-cancelling in-ears… but I wasn’t wearing them! In contrast to the 24/7 noisy atmosphere of “Brasilônia,” the peace and quiet of Habsburg territory sounded like I was in noise-cancelling mode all the time.

    Highlights Worth Remembering

    To cut a long story short—it was a mostly nice adventure in my country of origin. Even for me, because it allowed me to explore some places for the first time too.

    Best highlights:

    • Ilha Grande
    • Paraty
    • Lençóis
    • Chapada Diamantina
    • Iguazu Falls – Go to the Argentinian side as well.
    • Parque das Aves

    If You’re Going to Brazil

    Apart from the obvious street-smart rules:

    • Get your vaccines in order.
    • Bug spray everywhere and all the time. You will need it.
    • Cash money only in ATMs inside banks—not out on the street.
    • Let someone at home knows where you are staying.
    • Always have a travel insurance – no matter where you are going to.
    • Don’t patronise local communities. Be a traveller, not a tourist.

    The Twist: (“home” has no longer a fixed address)

    Born in Brazil, sure. But after decades on the road, my identity grew too big to fit inside one country’s borders. My place of origin isn’t “home” anymore—it’s just an impermanent feeling from the past that occasionally drops by for tea.

    Countries? To me they’re just names stamped in a passport. Nothing more.

    Nomad, stateless, citizen of the world—pick whichever philosophy makes you feel less guilty about having none. I don’t give a damn.

    Being rootless? Best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.
    Safe travels,

    e.

  • Ars Gratia Artis: Moebius

    Ars Gratia Artis: Moebius

    Moebius drew entire universes, and I’ve got some of them on my shelf

    Right, let’s get something straight from the off: Jean Giraud — better known as Moebius, or “Gir” when he felt like slumming it drawing cowboys — is easily one of the finest illustrators who ever picked up a pen, and I will hear no arguments. I have several of his books at home, and every single time I open one I find something I’d swear wasn’t there the previous time. It’s not magic, it’s just a man so obscenely talented that his linework apparently keeps evolving between readings.

    Where it started (for me, not him)

    I used to think Moebius was “that bloke who did the weird French space stuff” and that his western work was the “boring” warm-up act. Then I actually sat down with Blueberry — the series he drew as “Gir” alongside writer Jean-Michel Charlier from 1963 — and had to eat every word. It’s gritty, atmospheric, and real, decades before “gritty” became shorthand for grimdark nonsense. The man could draw a wind-swept face like nobody’s business. What surprised me was how restrained it is compared to his science fiction — proof that his wild imagination was a choice, not a lack of control.

    The good stuff, i.e. all of it

    Then there’s the other side of his brain. Arzach (1976) — a wordless saga about a bloke on a flying pterodactyl that manages to say more than most trilogies. Le Garage hermétique (The Airtight Garage) — dreamlike, unhinged, and brilliant. The Long Tomorrow, his noir-parody collaboration with Dan O’Bannon (yes, the bloke from Alien), which basically handed a visual blueprint to half of cyberpunk. And The Incal, his 1981 collaboration with Alejandro Jodorowsky, is still one of the great cosmic lunacies of the ninth art. My personal soft spot is The World of Edena (started 1983), which he wrote and drew himself — it begins as two spacemen and a Citroën and drifts into something quasi-philosophical about dreams and gender. It shouldn’t work. It absolutely does.

    Oh, and he drew Silver Surfer: Parable for Marvel in 1988, scripted by Stan Lee. Two issues. Legendary. That’s the kind of flex most artists can only dream about.

    The films (because you can’t avoid it, nor should you want to)

    Here’s the part that genuinely rewired my appreciation. Moebius’s fingerprints are all over cinema: Alien (1979) — those iconic spacesuits? His. Tron (1982) — that whole luminous digital world? He shaped it. Time Masters with René Laloux, Masters of the Universe, Willow (1988), The Abyss (1989), and Luc Besson’s The Fifth Element (1997) — the flying cars, the cityscape, all of it soaked in Moebius. There’s even Star Wars-connected territory via the ill-fated Jodorowsky Dune project, which, having failed spectacularly, quietly fertilised half of modern sci-fi anyway. Heavy Metal carried his work to the States, and Hollywood came calling shortly after.

    This is where I changed my mind about him: I used to file him under “comics artist.” He’s really a world-builder who occasionally took jobs in comics because the pay was nearby. Every time you watch an alien hive, a neon grid, or a taxi weaving through a vertical future, you’re looking at ideas he drafted first.

    My humble opinion on Moebius works:

    Ten out of ten. Buy the books. If you see an Edena collection going cheap, buy two and send me the spare — no, I’m joking. Mostly. He died in 2012, but unlike a lot of legends, he never stopped drawing, and it shows: the man produced so much that new collections keep surfacing like archaeological finds.

    My reading list recommendation if you fancy starting: Blueberry to see the craftsman, The Incal to see the madman, The World of Edena to see the philosopher. Same pair of hands, three completely different brains.

    Enjoy!

    e.

  • Not Your Average Playlist: ISIS-The Band

    Not Your Average Playlist: ISIS-The Band

    Post-Metal For People Who Don’t Want To Pretend They Understand It

    Let’s get this out the way first: there’s a reason these lot added “the band” to their Facebook page back in 2014. Turns out having the same name as a terrorist organisation doesn’t do wonders for Spotify playlist algorithm, apparently. Still, the actual ISIS—Boston-born, later LA-dwelling—deserve far more attention than whatever news cycle decides to peddle that week.

    The Gist

    ISIS-The Band formed in 1997 and didn’t call it quits until 2010, with a brief reunion in 2018 that felt more like a proper farewell than anything. They’re generally credited as pioneers of what people now call “post-metal”—which is basically metal for people who think metal got too bogged down in riffs and started forgetting how to write songs. You’d hear Neurosis, Pelican, Cult of Luna thrown around in the same breath.

    Here’s who actually played in ISIS-The Band

    • Aaron Turner – vocals, guitar (also ran Hydra Head Records)
    • Michael Gallagher – guitar
    • Jeff Caxide – bass
    • Aaron Harris – drums
    • Bryant Clifford Meyer – electronics, keyboards, vocals

    Five studio albums, one consistent lineup, and a sound that managed to be heavy without feeling like it was trying to win some kind of distortion contest.

    Why They Work

    I used to think post-metal was just noodling with extra reverb. What surprised me was how disciplined ISIS-The Band actually were. Their songs build—they don’t bash you over the head immediately. There’s patience here, which is rare in any genre where “loud” is usually the primary dynamic.

    Take Wavering Radiant, their final record from 2009. Four tracks I’m particularly fond of from that album:

    The Songs Worth Your Time

    1. So Did We
    Yes, it’s a live track. Yes, it still slaps harder than most bands’ studio efforts.

    2. Low Tide
    From Wavering Radiant. This is the one you play when someone asks “what does post-metal actually sound like?”. Listen on YouTube 

    3. Dalcinea
    Another Wavering Radiant cut. Builds from a whisper to a roar without ever losing its thread. Proper satisfying.

    4. Friction
    It’s in the title, innit? Guitar tones clashing with bass frequencies, Turner’s vocals somewhere between sung and spoken. The kind of song that makes you notice the space between notes.

    5. Carry
    Closing out the album. Doesn’t try to reinvent itself in the final stretch—just commits. Sometimes resolution is more powerful than complication.

    The Verdict

    ISIS-The Band weren’t revolutionary in the sense that they invented new genres overnight. What they did was refine, polish, and execute a sound with genuine conviction. Five albums, no lineup changes, and no desperate pivots to chase trends. That’s integrity in a industry that often treats musicians like disposable content.

    They split in 2010. But the catalog’s still there, waiting for anyone who’s tired of metal that’s all aggression and no atmosphere.

    I would recommend to anyone who thinks “heavy” doesn’t have to mean “thoughtless”.

  • My Review: Surrounded by Idiots

    My Review: Surrounded by Idiots

    Surrounded by Idiots by Thomas Erikson

    I picked up “Surrounded by Idiots” expecting another self-help book about fixing everyone around me. What I got was closer to an apology note from myself to my patience. Especially with some of my family of origin members, who easily fit at least three of Erikson’s four colour types. Reading it felt less like a psychology lesson and more like an instruction manual I never received.

    What surprised me was how quickly I stopped thinking about “idiots” and started thinking about personality mismatches. The book’s premise is that we perceive others by our own communication style. I used to think understanding someone’s type meant adapting myself to them to keep friction to a minimum. That’s not quite right. You don’t have to change yourself to accommodate another person’s modus vivendi. You give them options. If they accept, fine. If not, I move on. No questions asked.

    Is this book perfect? Not really. It simplifies complex human behaviour into four colours.

    But as a starting point? Fairly useful.

  • Just Because… Philip Larkin

    Just Because… Philip Larkin

    This Be the Verse 

    They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
    They may not mean to, but they do.
    They fill you with the faults they had
    And add some extra, just for you.

    But they were fucked up in their turn
    By fools in old-style hats and coats,
    Who half the time were soppy-stern
    And half at one another’s throats.

    Man hands on misery to man.
    It deepens like a coastal shelf.
    Get out as early as you can,
    And don’t have any kids yourself.

  • Beyond the Postcard: Exploring Sri Lanka

    Beyond the Postcard: Exploring Sri Lanka

    Sri Lanka: Where Asia Shines

    Several years ago, I found myself stepping off a flight into Colombo, little knowing what awaited me. What I discovered was not merely a holiday destination, but an experience that would linger in my memory long after departure.

    COLOMBO: FIRST IMPRESSIONS MATTER

    The capital city greeted me with unexpected charm.

    Contrary to any preconceived notions about South Asian urban chaos, Colombo struck me as remarkably clean and organised. There was an orderliness to everything that belied its vibrant energy. But more than the infrastructure, it was the people who made the deepest impression.

    Everyone I met on the streets sported a nice smile.

    A CULINARY ODYSSEY

    The local cuisine also proved to be very interesting to me. Sri Lankan food is a right mix of flavours and aromatic spices.

    I liked the rice and curry – not the single curries you might know, but several small varieties served alongside steaming rice, the kottu roti: chopped flatbread stir-fried with vegetables, eggs, and meat, and the hoppers: bowl-shaped pancakes made from fermented rice flour, perfect with a soft-boiled egg nestled in the centre.

    SPIRITUAL HORIZONS: THE TEMPLES

    No exploration of Sri Lanka would be complete without acknowledging its sacred heritage.

    The Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic in Kandy stands as perhaps the most revered Buddhist site on the island, housing what is believed to be Buddha’s actual tooth.

    Then, there’s Ruanweli Dagoda in Anuradhapura, one of the tallest ancient stupas in the world, its golden dome gleaming against the tropical sky – a testament to over two millennia of continuous worship.

    Finally, the Galle Fort Dutch Reformed Church reminded me of the island’s colonial complexity, where Christian heritage sits alongside Buddhist and Hindu traditions.

    THE TEA CULTURE: MORE THAN JUST A BEVERAGE

    During a visit to the tea plantations I learned that Sri Lanka’s tea industry traces back to 1867 when Scottish planter James Taylor established the first commercial tea garden in Knuckles District.

    Before that, coffee dominated cultivation until devastating blight destroyed entire crops. The locals turned to tea – and they never looked back.

    Today, Ceylon Tea remains a global gold standard, grown at high altitudes across the hill country.

    SIGIRIYA: ASCENDING AN ANCIENT KINGDOM

    Sigiriya (sometimes pronounced Sirigia as many locals do) is a fifth-century rock fortress that rises nearly 200 metres above the surrounding jungle, a marvel constructed during the reign of King Kashyapa.

    He built his palace atop this massive column of rock following a bitter succession dispute – either brilliant strategy or madness, depending on which chronicler you read. Climbing to the summit involved navigating ancient water gardens, fresco galleries (some surviving paintings still visible), and mirror walls once polished so reflective the king could see his own reflection.

    From the top, the panoramic views across the central jungle were simply magnificent – green canopy stretching endlessly, broken only by other rocky outcrops piercing the horizon like islands in an ocean.

    ELEPHANTS PARADING THROUGH COLONIAL HISTORY

    Back in Colombo, I witnessed the elephant procession – a rare treat in the heart of the city. Watching these majestic creatures adorned in ceremonial decorations moving through streets lined with palm trees created a moment of pure magic. They represent much of Sri Lanka’s cultural identity and religious significance, particularly in Buddhist tradition where they symbolise wisdom and royal power.

    PRATICAL ADVICE FOR FELLOW TRAVELLERS

    One crucial piece of advice for anyone planning their Sri Lankan adventure: negotiate tuk tuk fares firmly before boarding. Some drivers expect tourists to arrive unprepared and will quote astronomical prices upon reaching your destination. Be clear about the amount upfront, preferably using your hotel to help verify reasonable rates.

    THE VERDICT: ABSOLUTELY RECOMMENDED

    Would I return? Without hesitation, and sooner rather than later. Sri Lanka offers everything a discerning traveller seeks – authentic cultural experiences, breathtaking natural beauty, culinary adventures, historical depth, and human warmth rarely matched elsewhere.

    Seven or eight days barely scratches the surface. Yet even in that brief window, Sri Lanka revealed itself as a nation of extraordinary resilience, beauty, and hospitality.

    Go. See for yourself. You’ll understand why many call it Paradise on Earth.

  • Prisoners of Geography – My Review

    Prisoners of Geography – My Review

    Prisoners of Geography: Ten Maps That Tell You Everything You Need to Know About Global Politics

    A Little Tale of Maps and Masters

    Imagine, if you will, a peculiar librarian who insists that every war, treaty, and trade deal was written not in ink, but in stone, river, and mountain range long before any politician ever drew breath. That, dear friend, is the charming premise of Tim Marshall’s Prisoners of Geography.

    In essence: Nations aren’t shaped by ideology alone—they’re bound by their borders, terrain, and neighbours. Geography is the silent puppeteer pulling the strings of global power.

    I must confess, I approached this book expecting dry cartography lectures. Instead, I found myself laughing aloud at Marshall’s wit—like when he describes Russia’s endless frustration with lacking warm-water ports (a geopolitical case of winter blues, indeed), or how China’s yellow rivers literally run through their foreign policy. Each chapter unfolds like a detective story, revealing why nations do what they do, not because leaders are brilliant or foolish, but because mountains don’t move and seas don’t shift.

    Marshall writes with the precision of a cartographer and the charm of a storyteller who knows his secrets are better shared over tea than shouted from podiums. It’s the kind of book that makes you glance at your wall map with newfound respect—and perhaps a touch of suspicion.

    A perfect companion for anyone who’s ever wondered why Pakistan and India remain locked in their Himalayan stare-down (to mention just one example).

    I had fun with it. Highly recommended.
    e.

  • Not Your Average Playlist: Secos & Molhados

    Not Your Average Playlist: Secos & Molhados

    Secos & Molhados: The Glitter, The Guile, and The Greatest Flash-in-the-Pan Brazil Ever Produced

    Some bands burn out. Some fade away. And then there are the ones that detonate like a firework in a dictatorship — bright, brief, and impossible to unsee. Secos & Molhados were the third kind.

    Formed in São Paulo in 1971, right in the teeth of Brazil’s military regime, they were the band that turned their rock mix of folk and prog into a political act without ever handing you a manifesto. They wore face paint, stacked heels, and more eyeliner than a Soho pub crawl, and they did it all whilst fusing MPB, fado, folk, psychedelia, and progressive rock into something nobody had quite heard before — or since.

    They released two era-defining albums, imploded, and left a crater in Brazilian pop culture that still echoes. That’s not a failure. That’s punk before punk had a name for itself.

    The Members

    The classic lineup — the one that mattered — was a power trio with a supporting cast:

    • João Ricardo — founder, main songwriter, acoustic guitarist, and harmonica player. The brains of the operation. He formed the band, wrote most of the songs, and was the only member who stuck around after the first two records. Some people start bands; João Ricardo started a religion with a three-year shelf life.
    • Ney Matogrosso — vocalist, provocateur, force of nature. The man whose falsetto could shatter glass and whose androgynous stage presence made Bowie look almost understated. He wasn’t just a singer; he was a walking scandal in a country governed by generals. After the band split, he became one of the biggest solo artists in Brazilian history.
    • Gerson Conrad — vocalist, composer, and second guitarist. The quiet engine of the trio, who co-wrote and co-sang alongside Matogrosso before stepping out of the spotlight post-breakup.

    Backing them up were a rotating crew of session hands and guest musicians: John Flavin (guitar), Willy Verdaguer (bass), Marcelo Frias (drums), Sergio Rosadas (flute), plus a special appearance from Zé Rodrix lending pipe organ to the debut.

    From 1974 onward, João Ricardo was the sole constant. Various musicians cycled through the later records, but the magic was always the original trio. Nobody pretends otherwise.

    Discography

    Six studio albums. Two masterpieces. Four curiosities. Here’s the lot:

    YearAlbumLabel
    1973Secos & MolhadosMCA
    1974Secos & Molhados IIContinental
    1978Secos & Molhados IIIPhilips
    1980Secos & Molhados IVPhilips
    1988A Volta do Gato PretoDisco Ban / Polygram
    1999Teatro?JR

    The debut and its sequel are the holy texts. Everything after 1974 is João Ricardo carrying the flame — sometimes brilliantly, sometimes unevenly, but always stubbornly. Calling every album Secos & Molhados for the first four was either the laziest branding in rock history or the most arrogant. Either way, it’s perfect.

    There are also live albums, EPs, and numerous compilations floating around — the most notable being O Melhor de Secos & Molhados, which is exactly what it says on the tin and the ideal starting point for newcomers.

    Influences

    Strip back the glitter and you’ll find a frankly bonkers stew of source material:

    • Glam rock — David Bowie and Marc Bolan’s T. Rex were the lodestars. The androgyny, the theatricality, the sheer don’t-give-a-damn of it all came straight from the Ziggy Stardust / Electric Warrior playbook.
    • Tropicália — Os Mutantes blazed the trail for Brazilian psychedelic rock, and Secos & Molhados walked straight down it, albeit in higher heels.
    • MPB and fado — Brazilian Popular Music and Portuguese folk traditions gave the band a harmonic and melodic vocabulary that British or American glam acts simply didn’t have. The fado influence is particularly audible in the mournful, minor-key ballads.
    • Experimental, prog and folk music — The band’s stated manifesto was to be open to everything: Latin rhythms, Portuguese folklore, psychedelia, hard rock. They meant it.

    The result was something that sounded like Bowie at Carnival — and that’s not a comparison you can apply to many acts.

    Similar Bands Around the World

    If Secos & Molhados are your gateway drug, here’s where to go next:

    In Brazil:

    • Os Mutantes — The godparents of Brazilian psych-rock. If you haven’t heard them, start with their 1968 self-titled debut and work forward.
    • Casa das Máquinas — Rougher, more hard-rock-oriented, but cut from the same 70s Brazilian rock cloth.

    Around the world:

    • David Bowie — The obvious touchstone. Early-70s Bowie — Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane — is the closest spiritual relative.
    • T. Rex — For the strut, the riffs, and the belief that pop music could be both ridiculous and profound.
    • Slade — For the unabashed, stomping, face-painted rock nonsense that somehow becomes immortal.

    Five Essential Songs

    Start here. Then disappear down the rabbit hole.

    1. Sangue Latino

    The opener of the debut album and arguably the band’s signature song.

    2. O Vira

    A traditional Portuguese folk dance reimagined as glam rock thunder.

    3. Rosa de Hiroshima

    The centrepiece. Based on a poem by Vinicius de Moraes about the victims of Hiroshima, this is Secos & Molhados at their most haunting and humane. Listen to it here: Rosa de Hiroshima — YouTube

    4. Flores Astrais

    The standout of the second album. Psychedelic, hypnotic, and gorgeous.

    5. Amor

    Short, sweet, and sneering in equal measure.

    The Aftermath

    The original trio lasted barely two years. Two albums. Then Matogrosso walked, Conrad stepped back, and João Ricardo was left holding the name.

    But here’s the thing: those two records sold over a million copies. In a military dictatorship. With a lead singer who performed in kaftans and makeup and sang in a register that made conservative Brazilians swallow their tongues. They headlined Carnegie Hall in 1974. They proved that Brazilian rock could be simultaneously experimental, commercial, and politically charged without lecturing anyone.

    Ney Matogrosso went on to a legendary solo career that spanned decades and dozens of albums. João Ricardo kept the Secos & Molhados name alive through the 90s. Gerson Conrad largely withdrew from the limelight.

    But for one blazing, glorious moment in the early 1970s, they were the most exciting band on the planet — and if you don’t believe me, go and put on Sangue Latino at full volume. You’ll hear it soon enough.