RPM stands for a microcosm of 1980s Brazilian Pop (named, then, B-Rock). If not for its leader's artistic recalcitrance, it was such a culmination of many social strands it simply can't stand away from contemporary sensibilities as a museum item.

One can situate 1980s Brazil on the crossroads of a exhausted dictatorship and a breeding middle-class youth culture channeled through all available mass media (movies, magazines, TV series and foremost, Pop music).

RPM differing from many other Brazilian culture commodities was not an ambiguous mess. Paulo Ricardo its bass-vocalist leader, the son of a high-heeled military and a former musical journalist. Guitarist Fernando Deluqui a prodigal studio ace. Luiz Schiavon a classical trained pianist turned New Wave arranger-for-hire. Paulo "PA" Pagni also belonged to publicity jingles and the sort. Once upon a time all had been associated with undead Progressive Rock (a timely dislocation of 5 years behind the wave in Europe and US).

They were tailor-made for the kind of cultural translation that would become a Beatlemania in 1980s Brazil - a virtue of calculation and manipulation of long-standing demands for cultural parity amidst the (suddenly money-wise enhanced) middle class cultural market. The intentional gathering of such insiders of Brazilian media was made possible after yuppie Paulo Ricardo spent some years in England "graduating in music business as eyewitness".

RPM was, Brazilian-wise, an offspring of its time, but trans-temporal political straits adhere to the RPM phenomena as different worlds collided to the programmed beats of Schiavon echoing the adequate structuralist architectural tuneless holler of Ricardo's delivery - the old and the new, 1980s Brazil and 1970s Britain, New Wave and Progressive Rock, all brought back to the Pop arena. A fascinating dislocation emerged during their performances, not regarding Brazil's position in the Pop landscape, but for middle-classed Brazilians, suddenly living in Europe, Pop-wise. As if there were no politics (Ranciere's) at work, the emergence of a subject amidst a cultural encounter marked by a wrong.

Radio Pirata Ao Vivo ("Pirate Radio Live") was surprisingly released barely one year after RPM's highly successful studio debut halfway between bouncy New Wave and Synthpop gothisms. Their careful take-no-prisoners approach to Brazilian Pop (hiring NEY MATOGROSSO our stage animal by definition as musical producer, belonging to MANOEL POLADIAN's - Brazilian CORONEL PARKER - cast and employing to full effect their personal and professional affinities with Brazilian press and fellow musicians) converged to covering CAETANO VELOSO (who else but?) in acoustic fashion; London London became the most demanded item in all the scope of radio programming nation-wide.

So? What about a single? Brazil had killed the single format by 1986. Instead of reissuing their debut "Revolutions By Minute" with a bonus track they recorded a live album in crowded Maracanazinho before 40.000 people which (propelled by economic heterodox policy package "Plano Cruzado" and after the shattering market effects of Rock In Rio earthquake) sold uncountable 2.000.000 copies in a matter of weeks - in a country where platinum records accounted for 250.000. The elaborate stage act typical of the British 1980s was replicated by CBS and RPM could arguably be sure of the accuracy of their self-monicked "finally, a great band in Brazil - from Brazil". Additionally, the MENUDO looks of Paulo Ricardo and the impressive faux-Sgt.Peppers image of remaining members displa(ced)yed in uncountable magazined helped solidify RPM's legend for teenage wet dreams of London fog and Rock N'Roll orgies.

Music-wise, the record is a hodgepodge of their debut, hastily assembled new songs, CAETANO VELOSO's beloved item and a few covers and references thrown in not to disguise the record as a post-Modern statement, but to maximize the analogies with middle-class 1980s poster boys THE DOORS and STING. As a market stunt, it delivered in spades, but eventually killed their "artistic" momentum.

Revolucoes Por Minuto ("Revolutions By Minute") opened the proceedings in full over-the-top stravaganza of laser beams and cash machine sounds with lyrics echoing PRINCE's paranoid party anthems of the period. Brazil justily belonged to unsettling Cold War landscape only with a 10-year delay.

Alvorada Voraz ("Voracious Sunset") the record's monster new hit took the paranoia to the 11th degree with JEAN MICHEL JARRE-like dancing volcanic keyboards and lyrics delving into timeless Brazilian corruption circa 1986. It is 1999 just weirder and holler in its cheesy faux-grandiosity of mid-1980s ruminant Casios. Unadvertly, RPM's pinnacle of arts.

A Cruz e A Espada ("The Cross and the Sword") is a counterpart to LEGIAO URBANA multi-dimensional ballad Indios ("Indians") just with a definitive eye to London Goths. Instead of a bizarre post-colonial standpoint of native captive as wrongful lover (Renato Russo), rank and fuel Paulo Ricardo adopts the standpoint of Torquemada and seals the fate of his relationship with some coke-fueled starlet. Definitely, it is 1985, but folks flew to this like flies to the cowebs. Renato Russo would eventually sing alongside Paulo Ricardo, even after his (their, if arts is involved) passing. But the definite version, as a sensitive fascist demostration would sound like, is here.

Muzak instrumental Naja was made an odd hybrid through karaoke-interlude-wise replication of THE DOORS' Light My Fire thrown in the middle (which is, however, eloquent on how the 1980s turned confrontational arts into lounge lizardry). You'd better go with Olhar 43 ("Glance 43") which is the dark horse of Brazilian Pop, a hookless frantic vintage Synthpop ballad that eventually belonged to cheesy crooners country-wide due to some miracle of marketing. Still, it remains Ricardo's best encapsulation of RPM's aesthetic of the unimagined political market, cheesy mentions to dating Stephanie of Monaco side by side with some unsettling New Romantic abstraction. He would become a cheesy crooner eventually, that is, this is his signature composition.

Estacao no Inferno ("Station in Hell") is a Synthpop-Arena Rock hybrid with metallic leads by Deluqui, a song with sharper lyrics than its cheesy presentation would denote. Sometimes RPM and Dire Straits were one of a kind (Brazilians loved anyway).

London, London is definitely the only remote reference to minimalism and parsimony in such a massive overhauling set of cypher hormones, illicit substances and stratospheric egos. Only Ricardo's distant howl/holler - he lived in London for a period more extensive than CAETANO but English is as poor, sounding like the original - and an acoustic guitar played poorly, a strange, detached performance, but remarkably revealing of Brazil circa 1986, a sedated country, disconnected in space, desperately seeking some artificial redemption (including a dramatic presidential passing) from mimicking other place's past - weird, through a song that belonged to Brazilian near past! U2 would say roughly a decade after that in Europe "through appliece of science/we got that ring of confidence". This cruzadist wretched plastic soul would lately manifest in Fernando Collor de Mello's 1989 election. RPM drugs, stylized sex and morbid sketches of Rock N'Roll were a roaming candle into this nation's consciousness (of course you have to be middle class-up to belong there).

Flores Astrais ("Astral Flowers") was originally recorded by RPM's predecessor SECOS E MOLHADOS, NEY MATOGROSSO's band. A Progressive item disguised as bombastic New Wave, that is, a microcosm for the very RPM career. It also contained a noticeable STING "Yeh-Yoh-Yoh" hook which is more eloquent of Brazil 20 years ago than any History book on my shelf.

The title track Radio Pirata ("Pirate Radio") closed the record in adequate take-no-prisoners mood, with Ricardo urging listeners and fellow musicians (soon to be turned into anathema competitors) to turn their backs on music industry (which so warmly welcomed RPM and made possible this odd live sophomore record) and stick to piracy, through which a generation would be finally heard. If not funny, astonishingly accurate as a description of the very RPM phenomena. I could't have asked for more. See ya.

File under: Brazil

Tracklist:

* * * * Revolucoes por minuto
* * * * * Alvorada voraz
* * * 1/2 A cruz e a espada
* * Naja (Instrumental)
* * * * 1/2 Olhar 43
* * * 1/2 Estacao no inferno
* * * * London, London
* * * 1/2 Flores astrais
* * * * Radio Pirata

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: At Work