2026 hasn’t been one of the greats so far, even by the standards of the last six years. But there are some good things, even in the worst of times, and it’s often the case that music can provide the best antidote. Rita Braga’s latest album is a perfect example.
The Portuguese multi-instrumentalist has recorded songs in no fewer than ten languages, but this, her fifth album, is her first work sung entirely in Portuguese. This is because, with her eternal fascination with vintage music of the past – but not in a nostalgic way, but viewed through a more contemporary prism – she has devoted this set of songs to exploring the world of fado.
Fado is a genre which dates back to Lisbon in the 1800s, with associations with the poor, and given to mournful themes and a pervading sense of melancholia. As such, one could reasonably describe it as a folk tradition. And like many folk traditions, while still comparatively popular in its country of origin, further afield it remains little-known.
Perhaps, as a musician of international standing – and whose global touring is quite something – Rita Braga will make some headway in changing this with ‘Fado Tropical’. As the accompanying notes put it, ‘blending respect for tradition with a spirit of experimentation, she creates a dialogue between historical fado and other musical languages, incorporating elements of exotica’ – hence the title. But also perhaps this new spin has the potential to widen the appeal of fado and not just awareness.
Armed with her ukulele, marimba, vibraphone, cello, saxophone, and layered percussion are all integral to the sound of ‘Fado Tropical’, but elsewhere – thanks to a host of contributing performers – there’s cello, lap-steel, and even subtly-applied electronics, illustrating just how open she is to embracing innovation while exploring tradition.
‘Fado do Passado’ has a lilting, skipping quality, and lead single, ‘Fado Tango’ is soft, sad, but also subtly theatrical and pleasant on the ear. Elsewhere, ‘Um Quarto de Hora’ (a reworking of a 19th Century song only recorded in text) has something of a vaudeville jazz quality, JP Simões’ voice evoking the spirit of Leonard Cohen, the combination making for an album standout.
The uptempo ‘Sou Miúda’ borders on roustabout piratical punk-folk in its rowdy energy, and is the kind of song that would whip up a frenzy at a festival. In contrast, ‘Fado Menor’ has more of a lively neoclassical vibe – and yet for all its range and diversity, ‘Fado Tropical’ flows nicely and has a clear coherence and continuity. Above all, though, it’s pleasant to listen to, and it’s fun.
