Since the 2002 release of Ghana Sounds: Afrobeat, Funk & Fusion in ’70s Ghana, the UK’s Soundway Records has made quite the niche for itself in crafting unique and distinctly curated compilations of neglected and rediscovered songs from around the world, with a heavy influence on African and Caribbean sounds. So successful this has been, the label has even managed to release new albums by modern contemporary artists that fit into Soundway’s undeniably funky worldview.
So what a joy it is to have a record like Onda De Amor: Synthesized Brazilian Hits That Never Were (1984-94) enter the fray. Curated by Millos Kaiser, a member of the Brazilian electronic group Selvagem, Onda De Amor casts a wide net over a time of rising excitement in Brazil, having come off a disastrous stretch of the early ’80s where inflation and stagnation was rampant, GDP was declining by large percentages, and people were taking to the streets to demand a fairer electoral process. This was a time of gradual turnaround for the country, where optimism was slowly seeping in, and some of this is reflected in the music that came out at the time.
In a curious and wonderfully disarming fashion, the album opens with “Você Vai Se Lembrar”, which has more of a Boz Scaggs/Steely Dan vibe than what you might think from an album that prioritizes synthesizers above all else. Performed by Ricardo Bomba, it’s a lovely, gentle way to open the album, and soon it veers over to the unashamedly mid-tempo pop of “Tabu (The Sweetest Taboo)” by Vânia Bastos, again clearing through the notion that this compilation will be nothing but synth-heavy dancefloor filler.
Make no mistake, Onda De Amor finds times to get funky, like on Anacy Arcanjo’s post-disco workout “Toque Tambor” and the early Madonna-inspired Os Abelhudos cut “Contos De Escola”, but by and large, Onda De Amor revels in a variety of sounds and tempos. Synthesizers may be the emphasis and draw, but so many of these songs are full band efforts that synths prove to be the album’s loosest of defining terms: the rest is an overview of era-fresh pop music.
With Kaiser digging for obscure cuts, we see less what defined this pop decade for Brazil and more what its populace was learning from English culture. “Love Is All”, a percolating number by Via Negromonte, has the kind of juicy synth riff that would define so many ’80s pop classics in the U.S. and something that a group like Erasure would love to rip off. Meanwhile, “Electric Boogies” — a song by the group of the same name — very much serves as more of a producers showcase, featuring every synth pattern and style available (bass hits, harp modifiers, plastic drum programming) melded together in one undeniably funky groove.
At times, Onda De Amor can get a bit repetitive, but only in spurts. “Break De Rua (Versão Longa)” by Villa Box offers something that sounds closer to a ‘Til Tuesday full-band instrumental before breaking into a group-chanted vocal refrain that makes it far more distinct than a lot of the offerings here. André Melo’s title track, meanwhile, offers us some horn work that feels like a blend of cultural styles, making it one of the album’s most distinctive cut.
Moreover, the quality of albums such as these simply gives us all the more reason to root for Soundway and its continued output of forgotten but necessary cultural artifacts. Crate digging isn’t merely a historical exercise: it can be a groovy, funky one as well.