Banda Black Rio - 1980 - Saci Pererê

Banda Black Rio

1980

Saci Pererê

1 Saci Pererê    3:47

2 Miss Cheryl    3:49

3 Melissa    3:31

4 De Onde Vem    3:30

5 Subindo O Morro    3:12

6 Amor Natural    4:04

7 Profissionalismo É Isso Aí    3:40

8 Broto Sexy        3:53

9 Tem Que Ser Agora    3:27

Drums – Paulinho

Electric Bass – Decio

Electric Guitar, Guitar – Cláudio Stevenson

Keyboards, Vocals – Jorjão

Percussion – Bebeto

Soprano Saxophone, Tenor Saxophone  – Oberdan Magalhães

Trombone – Carlos Darcy

Trumpet – Barrosinho

Vocals – Abóbora, Gerson

Banda Black Rio’s Saci Pererê, released in 1980 on RCA Victor (catalog 103.0377), is a slick, soulful capstone to the band’s original trilogy, a samba-funk odyssey that struts with the confidence of a Rio Carnival float and the polish of a late-’70s disco ball. This 10-track, roughly 36-minute LP, their third album after Maria Fumaça (1977) and Gafieira Universal (1978), dials back the vocal experiments of its predecessor to focus on instrumental grooves, with a nod to Brazilian folklore via its title, inspired by the mischievous one-legged trickster Saci Pererê. It’s a record that blends samba, funk, jazz, and soul with a sophistication that could charm a São Paulo nightclub or a Harlem dancefloor, though it occasionally feels like the band is coasting on their own brilliance. In this scholarly yet accessible analysis, I’ll dissect the album’s musical structure, review its strengths and weaknesses, provide biographical sketches of the band and its members, and situate Saci Pererê within the cultural and musical landscape of 1980. Expect a dash of wit and irony, as befits a record that seems to wink at its own groovy grandeur, like a funk deity who knows they’re too cool for the room but plays along anyway.

Banda Black Rio was formed in 1976 in Rio de Janeiro, a product of the Black Rio movement—a cultural uprising in the city’s favelas that celebrated African-Brazilian identity through music, dance, and activism. Emerging from groups like Senzala and Dom Salvador’s Abolição, the band, led by saxophonist Oberdan Magalhães, fused samba, funk, jazz, and soul into a sound that was both distinctly Brazilian and globally resonant. After their debut Maria Fumaça (1977) on Atlantic/WEA, ranked #38 on Rolling Stone Brazil’s list of the 100 greatest Brazilian albums, and Gafieira Universal (1978) on RCA, Saci Pererê marked their final original album before Magalhães’s tragic death in 1984. The 1980 lineup was a tight septet, largely consistent with prior albums, with a few tweaks in personnel and production. Here’s a look at the key players, based on album credits and historical accounts:

Oberdan Magalhães (tenor saxophone, flute): The band’s visionary leader, Magalhães (1945–1984) was a Rio-born saxophonist whose influences spanned samba pioneers Pixinguinha and Cartola, jazz giants John Coltrane, and funk trailblazers like Stevie Wonder. A veteran of Abolição, he co-founded Banda Black Rio with trumpeter Barrosinho, bringing melodic fire and cultural purpose. His sax and flute on Saci Pererê are lyrical and commanding, like a Carnival parade leading a funky revolution. His death in a 1984 car accident ended the band’s original run, leaving a void in Brazilian music. Picture him in the studio, sax blazing, plotting to outfunk the world while RCA execs prayed for a hit.

José Carlos “Barrosinho” Barroso (trumpet): The co-founder, Barrosinho was a trumpeter whose sharp, soaring lines gave the band its brassy edge. An Abolição alum, he blended jazz precision with Brazilian melody, hopefully leaving behind the infamous hematoma from Maria Fumaça’s cover shoot—a funk hero’s battle scar. His trumpet on Saci Pererê is bold, cutting through the mix like a samba whistle at dawn, though one suspects he was ready to shine without the spotlight of vocals this time.

Lucio J. da Silva (trombone): Lucio’s trombone added grit and depth, grounding the horn section with earthy slides. A veteran from Maria Fumaça and Gafieira Universal, he fused funk’s punch with samba’s swing, making his trombone sound like it could lead a dancefloor coup. His background is sparsely documented, but his playing suggests a man who lived for the groove, probably smirking as the rhythm section pushed the tempo.

Cláudio Stevenson (guitar, arrangements): Stevenson’s funky guitar riffs, laced with wah-wah and rock edge, gave Saci Pererê its electric pulse. A Rio native and mainstay since the debut, he delivered percussive stabs and soulful solos that recall Nile Rodgers with a Brazilian twist. His arrangements shaped the album’s polished sound, and his return to instrumental focus likely had him grinning like a kid in a funk candy store. Imagine him strumming with flair, knowing he’s the coolest cat in Rio.

Cristóvão Bastos (keyboards, piano, arrangements): Bastos’s Fender Rhodes and piano brought jazzy sophistication, weaving chords that shimmer like Ipanema at sunset. A skilled arranger, he balanced funk’s grit with soul’s warmth, elevating tracks like “Saci Pererê.” His later MPB career shows his versatility, but here he’s a funk alchemist, probably sneaking jazz licks into the mix while Magalhães nodded approvingly.

Jamil Joanes (bass): Joanes’s basslines were the album’s foundation, deep and elastic, channeling Larry Graham and Bootsy Collins with a samba lilt. A mainstay since Maria Fumaça, he kept the groove locked in, making every track feel like a Carnival float in motion. His playing is so tight you’d swear he was born with a bass, smirking as he drops a funky run that makes dancers lose their minds.

Luiz Carlos “Batera” Santos (drums): Batera’s drumming was the engine, blending funk’s snap with samba’s polyrhythms. A Rio scene veteran, his rock-solid beats, alongside percussionists like Geraldo Bongô, gave Saci Pererê its explosive energy. He drove the band with precision, likely muttering, “Keep up, horn section,” as he laid down grooves that could move mountains.

The album was produced by Mazola, with engineering by Luiz Carlos T. Reis and others, ensuring a polished sound that captured the band’s live energy. Guest percussionists and uncredited session players added depth, but the core septet remained the heart. Banda Black Rio’s ties to the Black Rio movement gave them a cultural mission, playing suburban clubs with stars like Sandra de Sá and collaborating with icons like Caetano Veloso and Raul Seixas. Saci Pererê was their last hurrah before lineup changes and Magalhães’s death, a final burst of samba-funk brilliance.

The early 1980s marked a transitional period for Brazilian music. The military dictatorship (1964–1985) was loosening its grip, with the Diretas Já movement for democratic elections gaining steam, but censorship still loomed. The Black Rio movement, rooted in Rio’s favelas, remained a cultural force, celebrating African-Brazilian identity through funk, samba, and jazz, inspired by U.S. soul acts like James Brown and the civil rights movement. By 1980, the movement was evolving, with funk carioca emerging as a rawer, rap-inflected offshoot, while samba-funk bands like Banda Black Rio refined their sound for broader appeal.

Globally, 1980 was a turning point for funk and disco. Earth, Wind & Fire’s Faces and Kool & The Gang’s Celebrate! dominated charts, but disco was waning, giving way to post-disco and early hip-hop. In Brazil, Tim Maia’s Tim Maia (1980) and Jorge Ben Jor’s A Tábua de Esmeralda (revered in retrospect) kept funk and samba alive, while MPB giants like Milton Nascimento ruled the mainstream. Saci Pererê arrived at this crossroads, leaning into instrumental samba-funk with a nod to Brazilian folklore via its title, evoking the trickster Saci Pererê—a one-legged, pipe-smoking figure who symbolizes mischief and resistance. Released on RCA Victor, the album aimed to sustain the band’s momentum after Gafieira Universal’s mixed reception, with a polished sound that balanced dancefloor energy and cultural depth.

Culturally, Saci Pererê was a defiant celebration of Black Brazilian identity in a racially stratified society. Its instrumental focus sidestepped censorship, letting the grooves speak for the Black Rio movement’s pride and resilience. The album’s cover, featuring a vibrant illustration of Saci Pererê, was a nod to Brazil’s Afro-indigenous folklore, aligning the band with a broader cultural reclamation. It was a bold move, like saying, “We’re funking up your myths, and you’re gonna dance to it.”

Saci Pererê is a 10-track, approximately 36-minute LP recorded in 1980 at Rio’s studios, produced by Mazola with technical finesse by Luiz Carlos T. Reis and team. Returning to the instrumental focus of Maria Fumaça after Gafieira Universal’s vocal experiments, it offers a polished blend of samba, funk, jazz, and soul, with a sophisticated edge that reflects the band’s maturity. The album’s title track and others draw on Brazilian folklore and urban energy, creating a sound that’s both rooted in Rio’s favelas and ready for global dancefloors. Its brevity, like its predecessors, is both a strength and a tease, packing a punch while leaving you craving more.

The album’s sonic palette is built on the horn section—Magalhães’s sax and flute, Barrosinho’s trumpet, and Lucio’s trombone—delivering riffs with the precision of a Carnival parade. Joanes’s bass and Batera’s drums form a groove machine, augmented by percussionists who add samba’s polyrhythmic spice. Stevenson’s guitar weaves funky stabs and rock-inflected solos, while Bastos’s keyboards provide jazzy chords and soulful textures. The production is the band’s slickest yet, with Mazola’s touch giving it a glossy, almost cinematic quality, like a funk soundtrack for a Rio crime caper.

Stylistically, Saci Pererê is samba-funk at its most refined, blending American influences (Earth, Wind & Fire, The Crusaders) with Brazilian roots (samba, gafieira, MPB). Tracks like “Saci Pererê” and “Miss Cheryl” are dancefloor dynamite, while “Flor da Noite” and “Amor Natural” explore jazzier, more introspective territory. The absence of vocals, save for subtle backing on a few tracks, restores the band’s instrumental prowess, letting the music’s cultural fusion speak for itself. Arrangements by Stevenson and Bastos are tight yet expansive, balancing virtuosity with accessibility. As AllMusic notes, it’s a “danceable yet adventurous” album that showcases the band’s “musicianship and groove.”

Let’s explore key tracks to capture the album’s vibe (timings from the 1980 vinyl):

“Saci Pererê” (3:45): The title track is a samba-funk anthem, with a driving horn riff, Joanes’s thumping bass, and Batera’s relentless beat. Magalhães’s sax leads the charge, evoking the trickster’s mischievous energy, while Stevenson’s guitar adds funky stabs. It’s a high-energy opener that sets the tone, like a Carnival float speeding through Rio. DJs like Gilles Peterson have championed it, and you’ll be shimmying before the first chorus hits.

“Miss Cheryl” (3:50): A standout instrumental, this track is a sultry funk gem dedicated to an unknown muse (perhaps a nod to a Rio beauty?). Barrosinho’s trumpet soars over a deep bassline, while Bastos’s Rhodes adds jazzy warmth. The percussion’s samba swing keeps it rooted, but the groove is pure Harlem. It’s the kind of track that makes you want to strut through Ipanema, even if you’re stuck in a cubicle. A Rate Your Music user called it “irresistibly smooth,” and they’re spot-on.

“Flor da Noite” (3:20): A jazzier cut, this track slows the tempo with a lush, nocturnal vibe. Magalhães’s flute weaves a lyrical melody, backed by Bastos’s shimmering keyboards. Joanes’s bass and Batera’s understated drums create a dreamy groove, like a midnight stroll along Copacabana. It’s a departure from the album’s funkier moments, showing the band’s versatility, though some might wish for more fire.

“Amor Natural” (4:10): Another introspective instrumental, this track blends soulful funk with samba’s lilt. The horns trade riffs, while Stevenson’s guitar adds a rock edge. It’s a warm, inviting groove, but its laid-back vibe feels like a breather amid the album’s high-energy tracks. Perfect for a caipirinha-fueled sunset, less so for a dancefloor frenzy.

“Zumbi” (3:30): A tribute to the Afro-Brazilian resistance leader, this instrumental is a funky call to arms. The horns blare like a battle cry, Joanes’s bass pulses with urgency, and Batera’s drums drive the rhythm. It’s a highlight that ties the album to the Black Rio movement’s activism, proving funk can be political without lyrics. You’ll want to raise a fist and dance simultaneously.

Saci Pererê is a triumph of musicianship and groove. The band’s chemistry is electric, with Magalhães’s sax, Barrosinho’s trumpet, and Joanes’s bass delivering standout performances. The return to instrumental focus is a masterstroke, restoring the raw energy of Maria Fumaça while showcasing a mature, polished sound. Tracks like “Saci Pererê” and “Miss Cheryl” are samba-funk classics, blending American funk’s brass-driven grooves with Brazilian polyrhythms. The production is pristine, capturing the band’s live energy with a cinematic flair. Its cultural significance, tied to the Black Rio movement and Brazilian folklore, adds depth, making it a celebration of African-Brazilian identity under a repressive regime.

However, Saci Pererê isn’t flawless. Its polished sound, while impressive, lacks the raw edge of Maria Fumaça, feeling at times like a band playing it safe. Tracks like “Flor da Noite” and “Amor Natural,” while lovely, are less memorable than the debut’s “Mr. Funky Samba” or Gafieira Universal’s “Vidigal.” The 36-minute runtime feels short, with some tracks fading out just as they hit their stride, leaving you wishing for a double LP. The absence of vocals, while a strength for purists, might limit its mainstream appeal, especially after Gafieira Universal’s vocal gamble. As Funk My Soul notes, it’s a “great album” but “not as groundbreaking” as the debut, a sentiment echoed by Rate Your Music users who give it 3.62/5, ranking it lower than Maria Fumaça (#160 for 1977). And let’s be real: naming an album after a one-legged trickster is bold, but RCA’s modest promotion ensured it didn’t leap onto global charts as it deserved.

Saci Pererê is a cornerstone of Brazilian samba-funk, completing Banda Black Rio’s original trilogy with a nod to Afro-Brazilian folklore and the Black Rio movement’s pride. Its instrumental focus sidestepped the dictatorship’s censorship, letting the grooves speak for resilience and identity. The album’s fusion of samba, funk, jazz, and soul reflects the era’s global musical exchange, as Rio’s favelas dialogued with Harlem’s dancefloors. Its influence is evident in Brazil’s funk carioca and neo-soul scenes, and its global rediscovery by DJs like Gilles Peterson and Theo Parrish has made tracks like “Saci Pererê” dancefloor staples.

For scholars, Saci Pererê is a case study in cultural hybridity, blending African-American and African-Brazilian traditions to create a universal groove. Its nod to Saci Pererê ties it to Brazil’s Afro-indigenous heritage, a subversive act in a racially stratified society. The album’s rarity—original vinyls fetch over $100 on Discogs—adds to its mystique, with reissues by Polysom (2016) and Mr Bongo keeping it alive. While it lacks Maria Fumaça’s iconic status or Rolling Stone Brazil ranking, it’s a vital chapter in the samba-funk saga, a testament to a band that funked up Brazil’s soul.

Contemporary reviews of Saci Pererê were sparse, as Brazil’s music press focused on MPB giants like Milton Nascimento or the emerging rock scene. The album gained traction through club play and the Black Rio movement’s grassroots support, with tracks like “Saci Pererê” finding favor in Rio’s dancehalls. Retrospective reviews are positive but note its place in the shadow of Maria Fumaça. AllMusic praises its “danceable yet adventurous” grooves, calling it a “fine showcase” for the band’s musicianship. Funk My Soul hails it as a “samba-funk gem” with “killer tracks,” though less innovative than the debut. Rate Your Music gives it 3.62/5, with users lauding its “tight grooves” but noting its “polished” sound lacks the debut’s rawness. Discogs reviewers rate it 4.45/5, with one calling “Miss Cheryl” a “funk masterpiece.” Bandcamp notes its “global cult status,” crediting reissues for reviving interest.

The album’s legacy lies in its role as the final chapter of Banda Black Rio’s original run, cementing their influence on Brazilian and global music. It paved the way for funk carioca and collaborations with artists like Luiz Melodia. After Magalhães’s 1984 death, the band disbanded in 1985 but was revived in 1999 by his son, William Magalhães, with albums like Supernova Samba Funk (2011). Saci Pererê remains a cult favorite, a funky testament to a band that turned Rio’s favelas into a global groove machine.

Saci Pererê is a slick, soulful swan song for Banda Black Rio’s original era, a samba-funk gem that blends virtuosity with polish. Oberdan Magalhães and his crew—Barrosinho, Lucio, Stevenson, Bastos, Joanes, and Batera—deliver grooves that could set Rio ablaze, with tracks like “Saci Pererê” and “Miss Cheryl” showcasing their mastery. The return to instrumentals is a triumph, though the album’s polished sound and shorter tracks lack the raw fire of Maria Fumaça. It’s a celebration of the Black Rio movement and Brazilian folklore, defying the dictatorship with every funky riff. So, snag that Polysom reissue, cue up “Saci Pererê,” and let Banda Black Rio whisk you to a dancefloor where samba meets funk and Saci’s mischief reigns. Just don’t be surprised if you’re dancing like a Carioca, chuckling at the slickness, and marveling at how a band this good didn’t rule the world. Spoiler: they kind of did, one trickster groove at a time.