For a long time this album was a bit of a holy grail for many collectors. Released originally in 1968 on the Brazilian division of CBS Records, it was reissued by Mr Bongo a decade or so ago, and that’s the version I picked up last year. That reissue raised the profile of Krishnanda somewhat, at least over here in western Europe, where it received several endorsements from the great and good. Original copies still change hands for thousands of pounds; each to their own and all that, but I’m happy with the £25 outlay.
Pedro Santos was born in Rio, worked largely as a percussionist and composer, but also invented instruments including an electrified bamboo drum and the mouth berimbau whistle. For the most part he collaborated with other musicians during his life, playing on albums by the likes of Elza Soares, Arthur Verocai, Paul Simon and Milton Nascimento.
Produced by Hélcio Milito, the drummer of Tamba Trio, Krishnanda embraces a variety of styles, including folk, samba, Afro-Brazilian and psychedelia, but at times has the kind of sweep and scope that you might ordinarily associate with film scores (check out Flor de Lotus by way of example). There’s also a predominant rhythm which remains almost constant throughout, ticking through the entire album as if it were a heartbeat. This not-quite-samba was apparently invented by Santos, who named it ‘sorongo’. That subsequently became his nickname.
The album was arranged by Jopa Lins, and while it was the lush orchestration that caught my ear on first listen, Krishnanda also contains plenty of noises that evoke (or come from) the natural world; you’re as likely to hear a monkey as you are a timpani. It’s an incredibly powerful, spiritual record, rich in texture, packed with sounds and ideas, and I can’t wait to delve back in. I’d love to see a list of all the instruments used.
Lonesome Tonight 