When I first listened to this album, Flora Purim hasn't been unknown for me. First I met her on the album Chick Corea - Light as a feather (one of the greatest jazz albums, I suppose). Then I heard Flora Purim - Butterfly dreams. It was good, but I didn't become a fan - or I just wasn't in that mood... and now it's Stories to tell, which is a five star album.
To understand the qoutation from the back of the album: Airto Moreira is Flora's husband, and he is a drummer/percussionist.
"When Flora Purim and Airto Moreira moved to the United States from Brazil in the late 1960s, they brought something new to the samba-based music that North Americans had eagerly welcomed. Listeners discovered in Airto's percussion a harder edge to the bossa nova, and beneath the lovely surface of Purim's singing an urgency and a suggestion of modern urban pace that was absent from the languid sounds heard from the Gilbertos, Antonio Carlos Jobim, Stan Getz, and Charlie Byrd, who had introduced bossa nova here early in the decade. In other words, Brazilian popular music was developing beyond "The girl from Ipanema", and Flora and Airto were on top of developments. This 1974 album is a beautiful progress report."
Yes, you can feel its roots, but it's a much newer kind of music. As my friend and I were sitting in the living room today, we used a word for it: exciting. Exciting because it's modern, and has the latin mood at the same time. The alternation of faster, cool rhythms, and the slower ballad-like compositions makes this album to an excellent choice when you feel a little bit of abstraction.
On the day when I last listened to this cd (approx two weaks ago), before lying down, I opened my window as a night-time routine in my room, and I was sitting on my bed in the darkness. No lights were on, because I didn't want to read, I was too tired. Outside there was wind, with a strange pulsating, sometimes it got harder and became slower again. I was just sitting on my bed, and watching as the wind was moving the curtain and felt its pleasant coldness on my legs. As I closed the window, I looked outside, and felt the smell of rain, coming from the distance, so it could rained somewhere near. It was so good and so calm, a pefect end for a day, which I cannot write with words, but there's a cool term for it created by myself: 5 minutes before lying down.
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