She’s here.

Iara Rennó has formed a substantial discography in the last ten years. She launched two albums, Composição (Composition – 2003) and Filme Brasileiro (Brazilian Film – 2005) with the DonaZica group, an important name in the contemporary São Paulo music scene. In 2008 she conceived and produced an ambitious project, the Macunaíma Ópera Tupi, a concept album inspired by Mário de Andrade’s literary masterpiece; later transformed into the Macunaíma, The Dance Opera (2010), which was staged at the historic Teatro Oficina in São Paulo. Most recently, Iara launched the album A.B.R.A pré-ca - Amigos Bandidos Residentes no Amor Pré & Carnaval (Resident Bandit Friends in Love Pre & Carnival) with Cibelle, Rubinho Jacobina and the Do Amor band – a playful collection of marches composed for the 2012 Carnival. Iara has also composed for some of Brazil’s most important artists, including Ney Matogrosso and Elza Soares. So it’s clear that she is no newcomer, but it is also possible to consider Iara’s most recent offering as her debut album. Something which is very simply stated in the album’s title, I A R A.

Iara is a rock album. I don’t mean the album’s genre but the transgressive style of its very best moments. Iara transpires transgression. You sense it in the uncommon power trio formed by its band, with Ricardo Dias Gomes substituting his bass for a pocket piano – a type of mini-synthesizer that looks more like a toy – as well as Iara herself on guitar and Leo Monteiro on drums, electronic percussion and sounds. It’s also found in Moreno Veloso’s skilfully driven production, with precise, tight and sometimes hard almost dry harmonies that counterpose more “finished” productions. But above all, this transgressive quality is found in the way that Iara and her excellent band approach the songs with unusual, inventive and challenging energies.

An imaginary power cable seems to guide the whole album. On one side, the desire to affirm Iara Rennó as persona artística is explicit in the original tracks, and signals her personal contribution in previous work. On the other, the album’s impish behaviour reaches tirelessly and sometimes harrowingly for new and unknown musical paths, something which also reflects Iara’s artistic personality. The song Outros Tantos (So Many Others – Iara Rennó), spread over two album tracks, pointedly develops what I am trying to say. The first part is called Intro, but much more than an introduction it has Iara singing the entire song with “nothing” but her guitar. It is naked, leaving the singer and composer exposed with her secure voice and original timbre, her melodic resources and inspired lyrics. The same song is presented anew in the next track, this time supported almost completely by drums and a monotonous, claustrophobic electronic base that solidifies the melody. The song’s transformation is so complete that it is no longer possible to identify its origins or define the style. The lyrics agree, “in self-unawareness, you go astray only to find yourself”, in the end, as it continues, “there will be so many other carnivals, although they will never, they will no longer be the same”.

The songs never seem to follow what would seem like their natural path. For example, the arrangement for the track Arroz Sem Feijão (Rice Without Beans – Iara Rennó), a samba with a twist of bolero – in the best sour grapes style –, is very much inspired by Kraftwerk (a famous German group and forerunners of electronic music). The melody’s slightly exaggerated tone and passionate lyrics are cooled by an intelligent and minimalist electronic arrangement. However, the brazen melody also allows a certain tacky quality to come away from the arrangement, something which is normally more associated with the genre that inspires the song. By coming back to this genre the song’s musical direction is confirmed. The re-recording of Roendo as Unhas (Biting Nails) is another perfect example of the quality that I am trying to identify. The stunning sound produced by the fractured groove of Léo’s drumming and by Iara’s and Ricardo’s bleak riffs results in an improbable post-punk tone, which is surprisingly adequate for Paulinho da Viola’s (a famous Brazilian singer-composer) extraordinary samba. More than a fragile attempt at modernization, which would be otherwise entirely unnecessary, Iara’s re-recording has the magnitude of revealing what this beautiful song already had within it beyond samba, making it one of the strangest and most inventive in all of Paulinho da Viola’s repertoire.

I A R A, the album, successfully reaches what seems to be the artist’s desire. Within it we recognise Iara Rennó’s important work, which has been carefully constructed over the years, while also being surprised by her own reinvention. In the album’s opening track Já Era (Been and Gone – Iara Rennó), Iara sings: “It’s been and gone/ it was always yours/ it was always your insides/ your insides were always home” and confesses: “only the wings were missing/ and now hardly anything is missed”. Iara was all there before. Now she’s here.

Romulo Fróes