#metalmorphose

Alta Tensão: Portal do Inferno (1987)

Not to make light of a dead-serious situation, but the Russian invasion of Ukraine has me seeing RED this week, so I’d like to show solidarity for the Ukrainian people with a week’s worth of red vinyl, for what little that’s worth ...

Many were the 1980s Brazilian heavy metal bands that unintentionally curbed their international potential because they refused to, or, more often, didn’t have the luxury, to write and sing (or grunt) English lyrics.

But, let’s be honest: few of these bands actually possessed enough talent and drive to compete at that next level, so today I bring you a borderline case-in-point in the largely forgotten Alta Tensão, whose moniker, fittingly enough, was Portuguese for High Voltage.

Hailing from the rock ‘n’ roll backwater (even by Brazilian standards) of Campo Grande, Mato Grosso do Sul, the quartet caught my ear with 1985’s New Wave of British Heavy Metal-obsessed Metalmorfose EP, which also benefited from unusually decent production for a Third World release.

But nearly two years would pass (a virtual eternity for teenagers who lived and died by the fast-evolving ‘80s metal scene) before the group returned with ‘87’s full-length Portal do Inferno (Gates of Hell), at which point their Portuguese-sung lyrics had arguably become the lesser of their worries.

The greater worry being their increasingly dated style, which stubbornly retained the N.W.O.B.H.M.’s progressive side (Iron Maiden, Diamond Head, etc.) for multi-part epics like “Silêncio“ and “Cortina de Ferro” and the instrumental “Thanatous,” while adopting speed metal velocities on more concise head-bangers like “Chakal,“ “Judas Iscariot,” and title track.

Except for the uniquely English-sung (and oddly Van Halen-riffed) “Sacrifice,” the end results reminded me of good Manowar (yes, there was such a thing ... once), though perhaps the album’s abundant castle metal storylines and heroic fantasy cover art also had something to do with that.

In any case, to make matters worse, the band had been reduced to a trio and their production standards had somehow deteriorated -- drastically!

To the point that my first exposure to physical and digital copies of Portal do Inferno sound like absolute crap (tin cup drums, rampant distortion, horrible mix, etc.), until this reissue found a way to improve them somewhat.

If not for all of these challenges, I’d say that Alta Tensão were still one of the more competent -- instrumentally and compositionally-speaking -- Brazilian metal bands of the 1980s, so you may want to give them a spin.

Azul Limão: Vingança (1986)

In recognition of Pride Month, I’ll be featuring colored vinyl in a rainbow sequence all week long ... 

Here’s a Brazilian heavy metal band most of you have never heard of, and the reason is simple: Rio de Janeiro’s abstractly named Azul Limão (which translates to Lemon Blue) never made any noise overseas, chiefly because they chose to write lyrics in Portuguese instead of English.

Like it or not, English is rock ‘n’ roll’s lingua franca, and Sepultura’s Max Cavalera wasn’t wrong when he said that “singing heavy metal in Portuguese is like singing samba in German,” or something to that effect ... can anyone find that exact quote?

Heck, I’m a Portuguese speaker who lived in Brazil in 1986 when Vingança (Vengeance) arrived, and I chose to ignore Azul Limão for this very reason -- even though I could personally relate with their lyrics (e.g. “Satã Clama Metal,” “Não Vou Mais Falar”) about freedom from everyday prejudice in a conservative Christian society, just emerging from decades of military rule. 

And, though I’ve obviously softened my stance or we wouldn’t be having this conversation, I must say that the marriage of metal and Portuguese remains as awkward and unhappy today as it did 35 years ago, not helped by Rodrigo Esteves’ high-pitched squawk.

Perhaps more importantly, Azul Limão lacked the innovative extreme metal bent of a Sepultura or Sarcófago, meaning that perfectly respectable cuts like “Portas da Imaginação” and plodding twins, “Sangue Frio” and “O Grito,” relied on well-established (read: overused, by 1986) New Wave of British Heavy Metal lessons.

So maybe it’s no surprise that Vingança was at its best when Esteves, talented guitarist Marcos Dantas, bassist Vinicius Mathias and drummer Ricardo Martins opened up the thrash throttle on the title track, “Fora de Lei” and their sole world-class head-banger, “Você Não Faz Nada.”

But all of the band’s potential didn’t amount to a hill of beans without international, let alone domestic exposure, and though they quickly rolled out a solid six-track EP called Ordem e Progresso in ‘87, Azul Limão had faded away by decade’s end and didn’t reform until the new millennium, by which time cult nostalgia was all they could hope for.

p.s. -- In case you’re wondering, the Japanese-inspired obi strip you see here was NOT a common practice for Brazilian record releases, just a clever addition to this s, so this 2001 reissue. 

Viper: Theatre of Fate (1989)

30 years ago -- that’s 1989, for those of you having trouble counting -- Viper were arguably the preeminent Brazilian metal band!

Yes, just as Sepultura had begun storming the international stage in April of that year with their seminal third long-player, Beneath the Remains, Viper were gearing up to follow suit that October with their extraordinary sophomore album, Theatre of Fate.

However, whereas Sepultura were blazing their road with the armored tanks of death metal’s croaking brutality, Viper were soaring the skyways on the wings of power metal’s anthemic melodicism.

More specifically, vocalist André Matos, guitarists Yves Passarell and Felipe Machado, bassist Pit Passarell, and drummer Sergio Facci were following the hallowed template only recently minted and refined by Germany’s Helloween, which very much guides -- nay, outright dominates -- the title track, “At Least a Chance” and “Living for the Night.” 

Except in one significant way ... Viper’s budding interest in classical music, which adds some individuality, and virtually takes over the opening “Illusions,” “Prelude to Oblivion” and closing “Moonlight,” which, as you may have guessed, basically elaborates on Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata.”

But if you still can’t be swayed to give the band a chance based on all of the preceding praise, then do so for the all-around spectacular songwriting of “To Live Again” and “A Cry from the Edge,” which melds several distinct passages into a single, awe-inspiring whole.

All these years later, the album’s world class production, courtesy of Englishman Roy Rowland (Kreator, Sabbat, etc.), may be its most impressive quality -- this being a time when Brazilian metal bands were routinely let down by uncooperative compatriots and outdated domestic studios.

This competitive recording certainly helped get Viper noticed outside of Brazil’s borders, though not in the dominant markets of America and the U.K., but rather countries like Germany and Japan, where Theatre of Fate famously charted and outsold major names like Van Halen and Iron Maiden.

Unfortunately, change loomed just over the horizon, as Matos quit to study music theory in Germany, and forced bassist Pit Passarell to take charge of Viper’s vocal duties ahead of 1992’s aptly named Evolution. 

Matos would launch the even more progressive and classically-inspired Angra the following year, and, as some of you may know, died of a heart attack just a few months ago, at the age of 47, so I’ll dedicate this blog to his memory.

Metalmorphose / Dorsal Atlântica: Ultimatum (1985)

Ultimatum was a watershed release for Brazilian heavy metal.

A split LP pairing two of Rio de Janeiro’s most promising and pioneering bands: Metalmorphose and Dorsal Atlântica, it was purposefully released in January of 1985, on the first day of the legendary Rock in Rio festival, which marked a generational divide between the exiting military dictatorship and the South American country’s first, democratically elected president in some 30 years. (*)

Of course, both bands had formed years earlier, while Brazil was still under oppressive military rule and severely lacking in a professional music industry infrastructure -- except when it came to pop and soap opera stars, forget about dirty metal bands.

So, needless to say, both Metalmorpose and Dorsal Atlântica (named after the sub-aquatic, mid-ocean ridge) had endured severe hardships and toiled in obscurity until they could scrape together enough money to self-finance this product, whose distinct musical halves told very different stories ...

First up, Metalmorphose, fancied themselves progressive metal-heads, with ambitions well beyond their talents (and available studio resources), so that their five songs range from simple but effective castle metal (“Cavaleiro Negro”), to speedcore (“Complexo Urbano”), to naive optimism (“Nosso Futuro”), to outright laughable flutes and lyrics (“Hárpya”).

But side two, where power trio Dorsal Atlântica threw down their gauntlet, now that was more like it!

Turning their “less-is-more” recording circumstances from liability to asset, Dorsal violently blew through their five selections like a Latin American Hellhammer; willingly forfeiting all class and subtlety on evil-themed creations like “Império de Satã,” “Catástrofe” and “Armagedon” before stating the obvious on “Heavy Metal.”

But if there’s one track that justifies virtually any price of admission to this prehistoric relic of South American heavy metal, it’s the exquisitely vicious ode to a prostitute (warning: this ain’t no “Roxanne”), “Princesa do Prazer,” which is simply lo-fi metal gold!

And even though neither band would gain widespread recognition beyond their borders, in large part due to their patriotic insistence on singing in Portuguese, Dorsal, in particular, had a major influence upon Brazil’s metal community throughout the ‘80s.

For more about Dorsal Atlântica’s exploits, check out my All-Music Guide review.

* Would-be president Tancredo Neves would DIE just weeks later, before ever taking the Oath of Office -- both typical of this third world nation’s star-crossed luck, and also very METAL, come to think of it.

Stress: Stress (1982)

Until further notice -- and I say “until” because you never know what obscure LPs the web may yet reveal -- a little known band named Stress is responsible for recording Brazil’s first, honest-to-goodness heavy metal album!

Incredibly, the group’s history dates all the way back to 1974, when they formed as Pinngo d'Água in Brazil’s Northeastern city of Belém do Pará (the gateway to the Amazon), and started covering foreign hard rock luminaries like Deep Purple and Black Sabbath.

The name change to Stress took place in 1977, and coincided with their first efforts to pen their own songs, but it would be another five years before they mustered enough money and material to finance a rushed, barely “produced” one-day session for this self-titled LP in Rio de Janeiro.

And yet, the low fidelity lends itself quite well to frantically paced originals like “Sodoma e Gomorra,” “A Chacina,” and “O Viciado” (all sung in Portuguese, obviously), which successfully mirror the protean speed metal of New Wave of British Heavy Metal bands like Saxon, Raven and Angel Witch.

Now, there’s no doubt that Stress’ slower, more melodic, and generally older songs, including the Sabbath/Priest hybrid of “O Oráculo do Judas” and the Purple-inspired, organ enhanced “2031” and “Mate o Réu” would have benefited from better studio technology.

But the group was clearly so fired up about finally putting these songs to tape (witness the dazzling solos from guitarist Pedro Valente for “O Lixo” and heady lyrics for “Stressencefalodrama”) that their energy easily won the day.

In sum, for all of its Third World deficiencies, Stress’ first album still shows off a band of great talent, unbelievable resilience, who were evidently well ahead of their time -- as well as far more celebrated next generation of Brazilian metal giants like Sepultura, Korzus and Sarcófago.

You’ll find snippets of the words above in my All-Music Guide Stress biography and review of their historic debut.

Wikimetal – Brazilian Podcast – #257 – Brasil Heavy Metal no Wikimetal

  http://www.wikimetal.com.br/site/wp-content/uploads/Podcasts/%23257.mp3 Neste episódio: Esta semana o episódio está incrível!!! Uma viagem aos primórdios do Metal no Brasil, com um bate-papo histórico com Ricardo “Micka” Michaelis, o idealizador do projeto Brasil Heavy Metal! Micka nos falou de tudo por trás do projeto do filme que é uma profunda pesquisa sobre o nascimento e desenvolvimento da…