Glowing with pan-African collaborations, and rooted in Laiz’s love and appreciation of magical realism, tropicália and Brazilian music old and new – think Tom Zé and Marcelo D2 – Ela Partiu features Sudanese trap-rapper Zeyo Mann, Ghanian percussionist and singer Eric Owusu (Jembaa Groove, Pat Thomas) and produced by young.vishnu & Patchakuti, from the up and coming crew, and Laiz’s label mates, The New Love Experience.
With the album release taking a alternative path in its release strategy and a new single from the 14 track album reaching digital platforms every fortnight, the latest song to be given a full radio release is Jongo . It’s a madcap baile funk with jazzy horn lines and is a demonstration of how to globalize hip-hop.
The lyrics of Laiz allude to madness and insanity, referring to Laiz’s experiences as a migrant living in Germany, and in response to the vitriolic right wing labeling of migrants as ‘crazy’. Jongo screams, “yes we are”!
I found Zeyo, and we have been friends since he left Sudan to Germany as a political exile. Zeyo’s political lyrics and documentaries put him in jail during Sudan’s 2019 revolution and since then we have been part of each others careers and lives. Even though rapping in different languages, we are closer in worldview than many other rappers I have met.
Lyrically ruminating on emigration, the songs are drawn from Laiz’s experiences, some complex, since leaving her Sao Paulo home at just 14 years old, going to the States, and relocating to Germany in 2018 as well as those experiences of the international guest musicians, many who are global south artists, emigrants, who call Germany their home. The recording was brought to life in Laiz’s relaxed city of Hildesheim in 2023, at a studio that became a sort of creative-community drop-in centre, where artists stayed for a few hours or a few days, living side by side, eating ice cream and helping craft a record that discuss topics concerning colonisation, exodus and diaspora. The roll-call of artists from Germany’s nascent hip-hop, soul, jazz and global music scenes is impressive, with musical identities and expressions plugged in, from Cuba, Algeria, Brazil, Colombia, Germany, Australia, South Africa, Ivory Coast, Ghana, Sudan, Peru, USA and Madagascar.
In Portuguese, Ela Partiu is the name of a classic Tim Maia track, the ‘70s tortured soul-boy from Brazil, one of Laiz’s heroes. It also translates to ‘she has gone’ referring to Laiz’s early-life decision to leave her family home, unable to adapt to a life as a Jehovah’s Witness, from a city in the state of Sao Paulo. Clearly this is not a derivative story of a Brazilian musician finding their musical groove inspired by carnival rhythms diffused from the street. Laiz’s relationship to music, as a teenager, was anathema to this stereotype and much spouted narrative about the Latin artist upbringing. Whilst music was not prohibited in Laiz’s house and life, it had to fit within the limits of a strict and conservative Jehovah house so music was only allowed that didn’t crossover spiritual or ungodly red lines – it was all Phil Collins and Bach. She didn’t find hip-hop, in her case German hip-hop, until she arrived in Berlin at 14 years old. And those early memories she has of hearing rappers with witty and cutting lyrical play, soon spurred her to push the revolving doors with Laiz staring back at her country, Brazil. And so began a musical and personal revolution, uncovering artists like the Brazilian beatsmith Marcelo D2, who reignited samba traditions through hip hop and poetry. Laiz credits Tom Zé’s much revered recording, Estudando do samba, from 1976, as a light and beacon that guided Ela Partiu. With dots joined, identity renewed and music now belonging to Laiz, she sees herself as much connected to Brazilian music as she is with the soulful musical underground in Europe, namechecking Little Simz and Sampha The Great as modern day musical greats.
The origins of every Brazilian is very foggy. Culture can aide you on your path.
Carcará, with tongue in cheek is a samba swag, and a story of the ‘Brazilian smile’. Laiz explains, “this mystical place that cannot be found on a map, but in the guts of a good lover”. But she turns that around insisting “we ain’t Disneyland. And reality always comes hurling back” and sings “the skin shows you the price of Brazilian smiles”, signaling to “one of the most brutal and structurally racist systems in the world”
Ela Partiu often veers from head nodding grooves switching to outright rude, dancefloor mode, and Sudanese rapper Zeyo Mann’s vocal delivery (in Arabic) on top of what the band call their ‘shake ass tune’ on Jongo is an exemplar, much in the vein of baile funk music. Trimegistus is a percussive jam, led by Eric Owusu, known for his work with Jembaa Groove and Pat Thomas, and who has been integral to this recording, featuring on almost all tracks with his conga or his soulful and familiar, vocal.
There’s little doubt Ela Partiu offers new bridges between tropicalia, Brazilian MPB and hip hop, lighting up Brazilian musical traditions in similar ways that Marcelo D2 or Criolo attempted. Its joyful, yet poses serious questions, and with a highly talented group of emigrant musicians from every corner of the globe, it’s so much more than a Brazilian record, brought to life by a talent and traveller who thrives on the off-beat path, and is clearly still finding her way.