11. Forró: Xaxado

Introduction

Audio: Som da Massa, “Transcontinental Baião”

Juliana Cantarelli Vita: I’m Juliana Cantarelli Vita.

Schuyler Whelden: And I’m Schuyler Whelden.

JCV: This is Massa, a podcast about Brazilian music and culture.

SW: Juliana and I are musicians and music professors. In each episode we dive into a specific genre, song, artist, or issue in Brazilian music to try to understand how it works and what it means.  

JCV: Hi Schuyler.

SW: Hi Juliana. You know how sometimes, as a way of getting into a particular genre or music tradition, we share a popular song that references that genre, either lyrically, or rhythmically, or in some other way?

JCV: I do. 

SW: I’d like to do that today, if I may.

JCV: Sure!

SW: So let’s listen to the song “Sebastiana” as interpreted by Gal Costa in 1969.

Audio: Gal Costa (feat. Gilberto Gil), “Sebastiana” (Spotify) (YouTube)

JCV: Whoa. I’m familiar with that song, but this version is pretty different.

SW: Right?!

JCV: But Schuyler, what is our focus in these episodes?

SW: Collectively these few episodes are about the genre called forró, which is an umbrella term for a number of northeastern dance rhythms that are traditionally played by an ensemble of accordion, triangle and the bass drum zabumba.

JCV: Nice definition! Now show me where in this song I can hear any of those instruments or rhythms.

SW: You got me. I can’t do it.

JCV: Aha! I know you are a Gal Costa fan, but this is taking things a little too far.

SW: Hold on, let’s look at the lyrics. She says, “Convidei a comadre Sebastiana / Pra dançar e xaxar na Paraíba / Ela veio com uma dança diferente / E pulava que só uma guariba / E gritava A, E, I, O, U, Y”

JCV: Okay, that all translates to, “I invited our neighbor Sebastiana / To dance and xaxar… Oh I see.

SW: Well, finish the translation.

JCV: Right. “I invited our neighbor Sebastiana / To dance and xaxar in Paraíba / She arrived with a different kind of dance / And jumped like a monkey / And yelled A, E, I, O, U, Y.”

SW: So, today’s episode is about the dance called xaxado. When the singer invites Sebastiana to the party in Paraíba, which is a state in the Brazilian Northeast, just to the north of Pernambuco, the plan is to dance the xaxado, or xaxar.

JCV: But, to be clear, this is not a xaxado.

SW: Nope.

JCV: It’s a rock song or something.

SW: Yeah, this album was recorded and released in the late sixties as part of the artistic movement called Tropicália. And there are a few interesting resonances with the xaxado that we can pick out here.

JCV: But maybe we should talk about the xaxado first?

SW: Probably a good idea. So let’s say goodbye to Gal Costa for now.

JCV: Bye, Gal!

SW: We’ll see her again later in the episode.

JCV: For now, let’s dive into the history and characteristics of the xaxado.

SW: We’re lucky enough to have the accordion player and forró historian Júlio Mendes with us again:

Julinho Mendes: Meu nome é Julio Cesar Mendes. Minha família e meus amigos me conhecem por Julinho, que é um diminutivo do meu nome. Eu toco acordeom. E aqui no Brasil, na região nordeste o acordeom é chamado de sanfona.

[My name is Júlio César Mendes. My family and friends know me as Julinho, which is the diminutive of my name. I play accordion, and here in Brazil, in the northeast region, the accordion is called the sanfona.]**

History

JCV: One of the cool things about xaxado is that we have a pretty clear sense of where it comes from. 

SW: And not only that, but the history of the genre is recounted in song.

JCV: A few songs actually!

SW: So, let’s talk about the history of the tradition through the lyrics of a couple of these.

JCV: And then we’ll dive even deeper into the third, looking at the rhythms and other musical characteristics.

SW: First up is the Luiz Gonzaga classic “Xaxado,” which he composed with Hervé Cordovil in the early 1950s.

Audio: Luiz Gonzaga, “Xaxado” (Spotify) (YouTube)

SW: So, the lyrics say, “Xaxado é dança macha / Dos cabras de Lampião / Xaxado / Vem lá do sertão.”

JCV: Which means “Xaxado is a manly dance / from Lampião’s gang / Xaxado / comes from the sertão.”

SW: Gonzaga mostly repeats himself, but he does add later that “it’s a dance of the cangaceiros” and also that it’s “cousin of the baião.”

JCV: Alright, let’s explain all of these terms. Cangaceiro refers to groups of nomadic bandits that, in the 19th and early 20th centuries, roamed throughout the sertão, which is the arid interior of the Northeast region of Brazil.

SW: As we’ve mentioned before, this region existed in a kind of semi-feudalism during this time, with coronéis controlling large swaths of land that the rural working poor farmed. The cangaceiros were known to rob and extort the wealthy landowners and treat the poor relatively well.

JCV: The poor, in turn, protected the cangaceiros and hid them from the police bands that sought to arrest or kill them. Bryan McCann calls them “ambiguous folk heroes,” which seems about right.

SW: Lampião, the guy that Gonzaga is singing about, is the most famous cangaceiro of them all. He’s been compared to Robin Hood.

JCV: Yeah.

SW: So what are Lampião’s origins?

JCV: Lampião grew up poor in the sertão. When he was very young, he witnessed the police murder his parents. Part of the lore around him is how he was fighting for justice, or he was kind of this folk hero who was relying on violence, because of the violence that he faced when he was just a little boy, who had to fend for himself in the sertão.

SW: So Lampião and his crew roved around the Northeast, stealing from the coronéis, or the landowners, and keeping some for themselves, obviously, but also distributing among the poor. And they didn’t really have a home base. They would stay with people in all of these small villages throughout the Northeast.

JCV: When my grandmother was a little girl, in the 1920s or 30s, she was living in the sertão—she was born and raised there. One night, the cangaceiros were passing through her village. They decided to stop and rest. They all picked different places to stay. Lampião stayed at my grandmother’s house.

SW: What!?

JCV: Yeah, she even kept the sheets that he used that night for years, though they were lost before I got to see them.

SW: Aw, t hat’s too bad.

JCV: Totally. Anyway, the bandits in his crew were called cabras. The lyrics say that the xaxado is a manly dance that comes from Lampião and his cabras.

SW: Traditionally, the xaxado is only danced by men, who hold their rifle in their left arm as they dance. The gun takes the place of the woman in the dance.

JCV: Hence, “manly,” I guess.

SW: Yeah, if you’re into toxic masculinity.

JCV: Yeah, well, as the story goes, Lampião either really liked to dance the xaxado or he invented it. He hosted huge dance parties in addition to his banditry and these seem to have contributed to the  popularization of the xaxado. 

SW: And when Luiz Gonzaga started to record xaxados in Rio de Janeiro in the 40s and 50s, he spread this idea.

JCV: Lampião and the cangaceiros were important to Gonzaga’s career in other ways, too. 

SW: One of the distinguishing features of the cangaceiros was their leather hats, which were turned up in the front and back and decorated with ornate stitching and metalwork. When Luiz Gonzaga was establishing his career in Rio as a forrozeiro (even before that term was being used), he started wearing one of these hats, along with the leather clothing associated with northeastern cowboys, to signify his northeasternness.

JCV: Gonzaga adopted this combination of clothing very intentionally. It wasn’t his usual outfit, but something that he did to draw attention to the regional specificity of his performance. And, it might be an invention, but it worked. The cangaceiro hat has become a standard uniform in lots of forró ensembles.

SW: Let’s listen to another xaxado that goes into some of this story.

JCV: Great! This is “Olha a Pisada” by Luiz Gonzaga and Zé Dantas.

Audio: Luiz Gonzaga, “Olha a Pisada” (YouTube)

SW: Actually, let’s pause right there.

JCV: Okay.

SW: Because, the song starts actually with a quotation of a different song.

JCV: Right, it’s a traditional toada, or tune, called “Mulher Rendeira” that some say was composed by Lampião.

SW: It’s tough to know for sure, because the history is so mixed up with popular myths. But, again, we can safely say that it’s associated with Lampião. There is even a recording of one Lampião’s cabras, a man named Volta Seca, singing it. Let’s listen to a bit.

Audio: Volta Seca, “Mulher Rendeira” (Spotify) (YouTube)

JCV: The song is about a rendeira, a woman who makes things out of lace. The lyrics are different from version to version, but here, there seems to be a reference to the monetary aspect of the cangaceiros’ lives. 

SW: Yeah, the second stanza is “a little goes in your pocket, most goes in the sack.”

JCV: I don’t know if this about wealth sharing or something else.

SW: And of course there is a reference to Lampião’s rifle.

JCV: I think the main point is that this is a song that comes directly from the cangaceiros. 

SW: And it reflects the importance of the improvised poetic tradition in that part of Brazil.

JCV: This is something we highlighted in episode eight, which deals with the poetry of maracatu de baque solto.

SW: Here’s what Julinho had to say about this:

JM: “Mulher Rendeira” é uma poesia de domínio público que é relatado que era cantado e improvisado pelos cangaceiros. Essa coisa da poesia aqui no sertão, quase todo mundo é poeta. Todo mundo improvisa poesia, todo mundo tem uma ligação forte com a poesia e é bem possível que eles também tivessem. 

[“Mulher Rendeira” is a poem of the public domain that is related to what was sung and improvised by the cangaceiros. This poetry thing here in the sertão is big, almost everyone is a poet. Everyone improvises poetry. Everyone has a strong link with poetry. And it’s possible that they also had that.]

SW: This song became famous beyond this context when a version of it was featured in Lima Barreto’s 1953 film O Cangaceiro.

JCV: That film is not the only one that drew on the stories of Lampião and the cangaceiros during the mid-twentieth century. Another famous example is the 1964 film Deus e o Diabo na Terra do Sol.

SW: Directed by Glauber Rocha. I didn’t know you’d seen that.

JCV: I haven’t.

SW: Well, it’s recommended. For those seeking it out, the English language title is Black God, White Devil.

JCV: Well, a film that was released in this millenium is Guel Arraes’s O Auto da Compadecida, known as A Dog’s Will in English. You can see a representation of cangaceiro life there too.

SW: Yeah, I haven’t seen that one.

JCV: Aha!

SW: But I will, maybe even before this episode is out.

JCV: Ok. Um, can we go back to music? This isn’t a film podcast.

SW: Sure.

SW: Ok, so Luiz Gonzaga starts by quoting “Mulher Rendeira.”

JCV: Then he sings, “thus sang the cabras of Lampião / Dancing the xaxado in the forrós of the sertão / Entering a city after leaving a village / Singing of the rendeira / Having a heckuva time in the xaxado.”

SW: So, again we have the xaxado as the musical backdrop of the cangaceiro parties.

JCV: Exactly. Gonzaga goes on to say that he “was raised on the dance steps / Seeing the cangaceiros doing the steps … Look at Lampião’s dance steps.”

SW: Now, this isn’t strictly true. Though Gonzaga was fascinated by cangaceiro mythology as a child, we don’t have evidence of him ever being around Lampião or his gang at any point.

JCV: But he certainly knew how to dance a xaxado and could imagine these groups doing so.

SW: Speaking of which, we’ll link to a video if you want to see what the xaxado steps that Gonzaga is singing about actually look like.

JCV: But, to give you an idea, the dancer uses their right foot to stomp on the ground rhythmically, and sometimes crosses that foot over their left leg, which remains straight up and down.

SW: This stomping is what Gonzaga references when he sings “tum tum tum.” We talked about “tum tum tum” in the last episode.

JCV: Yeah, lots of “tum tum tums” in forró music. The next part of the song returns to the story of Lampião.

SW: He says, “In Pernambuco, he was born / In Sergipe, he died / He gave his kingdom to no one / But the xaxado has to be mine.”

JCV: Lampião did, indeed, die in July of 1938 in Sergipe, killed along with his wife, Maria Bonita, and many others by police.

SW: The story of their assassination is an important one, but it’s pretty gruesome, so skip ahead 30 seconds if that’s not something you can or want to hear.

JCV: It seems that Lampião and Maria Bonita and a group of 50 or so cangaceiros were ambushed in a cave and killed. The authorities then beheaded them and displayed their heads publicly as a warning against rebellion or other uprisings.

SW: The severed heads were on display in a museum in Salvador, Bahia for the following 30 years before they were finally given a burial.

JCV: Horrible. It’s part of Brazil’s very troubling history of violent repression of marginalized voices.

SW: Of course, Luiz Gonzaga doesn’t get into the details in this song, but he does draw connections to Lampião by claiming the xaxado as his own.

JCV: It’s kind of a fitting baton passing that he’s suggesting, given that, nowadays, the xaxado is associated with Lampião Luiz Gonzaga.

SW: I feel like we’re ready to go a little deeper on the musical qualities of the xaxado.

JCV: Me too. Let’s take a look at what might be the most famous of Gonzaga’s xaxados. Of course, he didn’t actually write it, but his version is best known. It’s called “Óia Eu Aqui de Novo” and the composer is Antônio Barros.

Audio Luiz Gonzaga, “Óia Eu Aqui de Novo” (Spotify) (YouTube)

SW: The refrain lyrics are quite straightforward.

JCV: He sings, “Look at me over here, dancing the xaxado / Look at me over here to dance the xaxado.”

SW: It’s so common for these songs to be about the dance rhythms themselves.

JCV: Yeah, well, think about it. These are traditional dances communicated orally. So having a little built-in description can keep people on the same page. Not everyone is as trained as our audience in picking out specific rhythms.

SW: Speaking of which, the rhythm of the xaxado is pretty important and ties in with this chorus lyric to some degree.

JCV: Let’s demonstrate.

Rhythm

SW: Like the xote, the xaxado is characterized by the rhythmic pattern played on the zabumba.

JCV: As we explained in our festas juninas episode, the zabumba is a double-headed shallow bass drum. The top of the drum is played with a mallet, called pirulito, either in open strokes.

JCV: Or closed strokes.

SW: The difference between that boomy open stroke and the pointed closed (or muted) stroke is part of what gives these rhythms their characteristic propulsions.

JCV: Exactly. The bottom head is played with a thin stick called bacalhau, and has a higher pitched sound.

SW: The most recognizable element of the xaxado rhythm happens in what you play with the pirulito, right?

JCV: Yes, that rhythm sounds like this.

SW: One way to think of this rhythm is as an asymmetrical timeline, which is to say, it’s a series of beats that divide the 8-pulse rhythmic cycle unevenly.

JCV: Right. Instead of dividing 8 into 2 or 4, it’s divided into segments of 3 pulses, 3 pulses, 2 pulses

SW: That’s why some people call this a 3 + 3 + 2 rhythm.

JCV: This rhythm is fairly common in Latin American music. 

SW: Yes! We’ll hear it prominently in the coco music we’re going to discuss in a few weeks.

JCV: In Hispanic Latin America, it’s often called a tresillo.

SW: I noticed that you aren’t just playing those three beats with equal intensity, right?

JCV: No, I’m playing the first two hits muted and the last one open.

SW: Ah, so that louder open hit happens at the end of the cycle, leading back to the beginning.

JCV: Exactly.

SW: What about the bacalhau?

JCV: There are variations, but the most common has accents on the third and sixth pulses in the eight pulse cycle

SW: Wait, so the bacalhau plays just before the pirulito?

JCV: Yep! One common variation is to play the primary pulses with the bacalhau.

JCV: As well as a dozen other variations, including ones that have additional pirulito strokes, but we’ll leave those for you to discover on your own.

SW: Let’s listen again to the refrain of “Óia Eu Aqui de Novo” and see how the zabumba works.

JCV: Listen for that “tum tum TUM” rhythmic pattern.

JCV: Hopefully everyone can at least pick out the accented open stroke on the zabumba that comes at the end of the rhythmic cycle.

SW: I noticed that the triangle in the xaxado is similar to and different from the triangle in the xote that we discussed last time.

JCV: How so?

SW: Well it seems like the triangle plays the same pattern of open and closed strokes.

JCV: It does. Closed, closed, open, closed is the pattern.

SW: But it’s not swung like the xote.

JCV: No, it doesn’t have that deep swing that we associate with xote. It’s not that all of the notes are equally spaced, but it is “straighter” than the xote.

SW: Got it.

SW: If you listen closely, you’ll notice that accents of the lyrics and the accents of the drums are actually similar. So, for example, the way that the “Óia eu aqui de novo, xaXANdo”—the “xaXANdo,” that “XAN” in the middle of the word “xaxando” is where the last hit of the zabumba is. And they have to correspond in order to, sort of, make sense in the song.

JCV: This is actually an under-appreciated part of these rhythms. The poetry of the songs has to work with the rhythmic accents. They can’t clash. 

SW: We discussed this phenomenon in episode eight. But it’s even more true here. 

JCV: Julinho Mendes told us about this.

SW: In his description, he’s going to compare the xaxado to the baião, which we’ll discuss in our next episode. For now, just know that rhythmically, the first part of the baião is like the xaxado, but it lacks that final accented note.

JM: O baião tem colcheia pontuada (dotted 8th), semicolcheia (16th), semínima (quarter), tem uma colcheia pontuada e uma semicolcheia ligada a uma outra semínima. Então [demonstrates]… e variações disso, que aí são várias.O xaxado tem o primeiro tempo igual, que é [demonstrates] só que essa semínima do segundo tempo é dividida em duas colcheias e a última colcheia do compasso é acentuada. Você pode colocar num tenuto ali ou alguma coisa em cima que ela tem que ser a nota mais acentuada do processo. Então, enquanto o baião tá no [demonstra], o xaxado é [demonstra]. Também por isso a melodia da música, não só a melodia, a poesia tem que combinar com essa acentuação, a prosódia tem que dar certo. Porque senão, a percussão acentua um lugar onde a palavra não tem aquela acentuação naquele momento, fica um negócio meio embolado. Então as variações do baião, elas são intercambiáveis entre elas. Uma música pode começar baião e o refrão ser um forró e voltar pro baião, por exemplo. Mas raramente, uma música que é um baião é um forró, você pode colocar um xaxado nela. É possível mas é muito difícil. 

[The baião has this dotted eight, sixteenth, quarter. It has a dotted eighth and a sixteenth tied to a quarter note. So (demonstrates) … and variations of that, of which they are many. Xaxado has the same first half, which is (demonstrates), except this quarter note from the second half is divided in two eighths and the last eight of the bar is accented. You can mark it as tenuto on top so that it it’s clearly the most accented note. So, while the baião is the (demonstrates), the xaxado is (demonstrates). Also because of this, the melody of the music—not just the melody, but the poetry too—has to work with this accentuation. The prosody has to work. Because if not, if the percussion accents in a place where the words don’t have accents, it can get tangled up. So the variations of the baião, they are interchangeable among themselves. One song could begin as a baião and the refrain is a forró and then it goes back to being a baião, for example. But rarely can you put a xaxado rhythm on a song that is a baião or a forró. It’s possible, but it’s difficult.]**

JCV: The point here is that practitioners of this music recognize that the poetry and the rhythms are all connected. You can’t simply put whatever lyrics on a xaxado base and say it’s a xaxado.

SW: This is also true of the accordion accompaniment. It’s such a small ensemble, traditionally, so there is a good amount of freedom for all of the players. But that freedom, when exercised by the best players, will follow the guidelines of the song.

JM: Um xaxado que é o mais famoso nesse aspecto do que eu tou falando é “Óia eu aqui de novo” [demonstra]. Então [demonstrates]. “Óia eu aqui de novo”: o “novo” vai ser primeiro tempo do outro compasso, mas se você fizer [demonstra], o “novo,” o “no” da sílaba novo vai casar com o tempo forte. Ou seja, se você cantar a melodia deslocada, ela já num vai dar certo. O zabumbeiro vai acentuar aquela nota e a frase não vai acentuar a palavra naquela nota. Então tem esse aspecto da poesia em si, além da coisa toda da música. Agora, é o seguinte: o xaxado tem historicamente uma coisa da tradição ligada aos cangaceiros. É um ritmo tradicional de Serra Talhada, que é uma cidade aqui de Pernambuco e tradicionalmente e historicamente ele não tem instrumento harmônico nenhum. É um bocado de percussão e o pessoal dançando a dança característica de arrastar o pé no chão. Tem mil coreografias, tradicionalmente isso é encenado aqui, os grupos de xaxado tradicional são encenados representando com roupa de cangaceiro, com espingarda pendurada e tudo mais. Então tradicionalmente não tem instrumento harmônico. Mas o acordeom é colocado no xaxado com uma coisa mais ou menos assim [demonstra].

[One xaxado that is more famous in this aspect that I’m talking about is “Óia eu aqui de novo.” (demonstrates]). So (demonstrates). “Óia eu aqui de novo”": the “novo” is going to be the the first half of the the second bar, but if you play it like (demonstrates), the “novo,” the first syllable “no” will marry with the strong beat. That is, if you sing the melody off, it won’t work. The zabumbeiro will accent that note and the phrase won’t accented the word on that note. So there is this aspect of the poetry itself, beyond the music. So, there is also this: xaxado has historically been a tradition connected to the cangaceiros. It’s a traditional rhythm from Serra Talhada, which is a city here in Pernambuco that traditionally and historically doesn’t have any harmonic instruments. There is a bunch of percussion and people dancing the characteristic arrasta-pé dance on the ground. There are thousands of choreographies, traditionally it is staged here, the xaxado groups are staged wearing the clothing of the cangaceiros, wearing rifles and everything else. So traditionally, there is no harmonic instrument. But the accordion is put into xaxado with something more or less like this (demonstrates).]

JCV: If we check out the lyrics of “Óia Eu Aqui de Novo,” we’ll notice that there is almost no mention of Lampião and the cangaceiros.

SW: Just one line where he says, “I’m going to show these cabras.”

JCV: A cabra is a goat, by the way. I don’t think we actually said that.

SW: There is a joke here about how Gonzagão is the Greatest Of All Time, but I’m not clever enough to think of it.

JCV: Okay. Work on it.

SW: Will do. 

JCV: So, most of the song is just saying, “watch and I’ll show you how to dance xaxado.” But at the end, the singer calls a number of women—Maria, Luzia, Zabé, Requé—to the party. I don’t know if he’s calling them to watch him dance—seeing that the xaxado is traditionally danced only by men—or if they are going to dance too. But this notion of populating the song with people paints a nice picture.

SW: For sure.

Xaxado in Popular Music

JCV: Let’s check out some examples of xaxado not sung by Luiz Gonzaga.

SW: Good idea. Let’s start with another by Antônio Barros, but this time sung by the Pernambucana singer Marinês.

JCV: We played a Marinês recording in our festas juninas episode.

SW: But we couldn’t possibly skip her today as her title is the Rainha do Xaxado.

JCV: Or the Queen of the Xaxado.

SW: Here she is singing the song of that name.

JCV: Listen for that characteristic rhythm and we’ll explain the lyrics afterward.

Audio: Marinês, “Rainha do Xaxado” (Spotify) (YouTube)

SW: There are some things in common with the last few examples.

JCV: Absolutely. She describes that outfit we discussed: “leather clothes / leather hat / he’s a cowboy”

SW: Then she says, “shotgun, knife / He’ll stick you with it / He’s a cangaceiro.”

JCV: But then things change. “Accordion / Triangle / Zabumba is for dancing xaxado.”

SW: What a great lyrical structure by Antonio Barros. We have the three categories related to xaxado each defined by three characteristic items or actions.

JCV: Makes you wonder why it takes us a whole episode to explain.

SW: That’s true.

JCV: Then Marinês takes ownership: “I’m the queen of the xaxado … / I step this way and that way / In my kingdom / No one can penetrate.”

SW: I love the power she claims in these lyrics.

JCV: Marinês was a huge star in the mid-twentieth century.

SW: I can see why.

JCV: I want to jump forward a few decades to listen to a xaxado interpreted a little bit outside of the forró tradition, if that’s okay.

SW: Sounds good. Totally okay.

JCV: This is the song “Cavalos do Cão” written by Zé Ramalho and performed by Zé Ramalho and his cousin Elba Ramalho.

Audio: Zé Ramalho, “Cavalos do Cão” (Spotify) (YouTube)

JCV: The characteristic xaxado rhythm is quite audible.

SW: It’s overlain with some rhythmic accents by the whole band, but I can hear it.

JCV: This song, even though it’s from the 1980s, really draws on that early 20th century history of the cangaceiros.

SW: Yes, Zé Ramalho is from Paraíba and these stories were certainly a big part of his upbringing.

JCV: And they are also important in his music, more broadly, even if he’s working in more of an MPB domain than a forró one.

SW: A cavalo do cão is a kind of wasp—a really mean one. Like, a sting you and it hurts like crazy kind of thing.

JCV: The first line of the song sets the story “in the 1930s / In the Brazilian Northeast.”

SW: Zé Ramalho creates a contrast between the people fighting for money and land—the coronéis that we’ve mentioned—and those on the other side, “beatos e cangaceiros.”

JCV: “Saints and cangaceiros.” And it seems that the protagonist of the song is in this latter category. He’s running all night in the sertão and they are trying to catch him.

SW: In this context, the upbeat xaxado mixed with the frenetic accents of the band really bring out that mad dash atmosphere. It feels like someone running for their life more than a party dance.

JCV: Absolutely. Because Zé Ramalho is working with this song form outside of the forró tradition, he can play with the meaning a little bit. He’s not restricted to describing the dance moves, so he takes inspiration from the connection with the cangaceiros to create a more dramatic piece.

SW: Another singer who took a similar approach, though maybe even further removed from the musical roots of the xaxado is the singer Lenine.

JCV: That’s true. Lenine is a Pernambucano singer whose career started a decade or so after Zé Ramalho.

SW: Let’s check out “Candeeiro Encantado” from his 1997 album O Dia Em Que Faremos Contato.

Audio: Lenine, “Candeeiro Encantado” (Spotify) (YouTube)

JCV: Some of you are probably wondering how this is a xaxado. 

SW: I admit that it might just not be one. I might be putting more into than is actually there.

JCV: Maybe. But even though there is no zabumba, if we listen to guitar in that opening section, we can hear that tum tum TUM rhythm.

SW: I also think it’s fair to interpret this as a xaxado because of the lyrics.

JCV: That’s definitely the clearer connection.

SW: Lenine sings “Up in the sertão, a macho cabra doesn’t kneel / and isn’t confused for a traitor / He pulls out his machete, scrapes it on the ground, and sparks fly / Because sometimes all there is the law of the wild.”

JCV: This is more celebration of the toughness of the cangaceiro.

SW: Yup.

JCV: And in the chorus he sings “É Lampa, é Lampa, é Lampa, é Lampião / Meu candeeiro encantado.”

SW: He is Lampião / My enchanted lamp.”

JCV: Lenine is using a play on words. Lampião means “oil lamp.”

SW: Apparently he got that nickname for lighting things up with his weapon.

JCV: [deadpan] Great.

SW: Yeah.

JCV: And  “candeeiro” also means lamp.

SW: Lampião and the cangaceiros are the ambiguous folk heroes that they’ve always been.

Conclusion

JCV: Before we go, you promised that the Gal Costa song was actually relevant to our discussion.

SW: I did! Hopefully I can pull this off.

JCV: You’d better, or I want a refund.

SW: Fair enough. So, in case you’ve forgotten, “Sebastiana” sounds like this:

Audio: Gal Costa, “Sebastiana”

SW: But that’s not the first version of the song.

JCV: Originally it was written by the Pernambucano composer Rosil Cavalcanti in the early 1950s and made famous by Jackson do Pandeiro, a singer from Paraíba. His version is the one I know:

Audio: Jackson do Pandeiro, “Sebastiana” (Spotify) (YouTube)

SW: To start with, we do have that reference to dancing the xaxado in the lyrics.

JCV: And, you’d think that a song that references the xaxado would be a xaxado, but we’ve seen that this referent can be separated from its context.

SW: In fact, in a lot of places, this song is categorized as a coco. 

JCV: I can see how a coco and a xaxado might get confused, because they both have that characteristic 3 + 3 + 2 rhythm that we pointed out. 

SW: Right. And if folks want to know more about that, they only have to wait a few episodes, as we have some things in the works on coco already.

JCV: Stay on track, Schuyler.

SW: Okay, I’m planting seeds.

JCV: That’s fair. If this rhythm of 3 + 3 + 2 is characteristic of the xaxado, as we’ve shown, why would it be confused for coco?

SW: Well, actually the xaxado and the coco are both based around the 3+3+2 rhythm. And, unlike the xaxado, which many people wouldn’t be able to identify or tell you what it is, the coco is very famous for having that rhythm. There is one additional thing, which is there is a ganzá, or shaker, part here that is reminiscent of coco than of forró.

JCV: Right. In xaxado, the lore—that is, all the references to Lampião and the cabras and whatnot—is more the focus.

SW: Exactly. Now, we know about the lyrical reference to dancing xaxado in the beginning. But there’s also another one. Sebastiana is dancing out of rhythm when suddenly the protagonist takes over and shows her how to do the dance,. At that point, “the xaxado heats up in the ballroom / and Sebastiana doesn’t miss another step.”

JCV: But that’s kind of weird, because the xaxado is not a couples dance.

SW: Totally, but here it’s not really about the xaxado. It’s about how the xaxado paints a picture of a particular environment.

JCV: Right. So, in the context of the Tropicália movement—we’ll get to that eventually, but if you want to research it, there are some great films and Christopher Dunn’s book Brutality Garden is indispensable. Anyway, in Tropicália, the xaxado, and this song are there representing Northeasternness. But it’s a Northeasternness mixed with the sound of rock’n’roll, which was relatively new. 

SW: Now who’s off track?

JCV: The people want to know, Schuyler!

SW: Fair enough. The point here is that this song, “Sebastiana,” speaks to how this word xaxado has become part of the forró constellation in a way that’s not often dissected.

JCV: Totally.

SW: But let’s confuse things even more. 

JCV: If we must... 

SW: Listen to Jackson do Pandeiro’s version again and then tell me about the rhythm.

JCV: Yeah, that’s not a xaxado.

SW: What is it?

JCV: It’s a baião.

SW: So, we have a forró that’s about a xaxado, that many people confuse for a coco, which has famously been interpreted as a rock song, here being played as a baião.

JCV: Sheesh, that’s confusing alright. 

SW: But I think we have some tools for picking it apart

JCV: Speaking of which, should we explain how we know it’s a baião?

SW: I say we devote an entire episode to it.

JCV: Let’s do it!

SW: So if you want to know what makes a baião a baião, please tune in next time.

JCV: I’ll be there!

SW: See you then, Juliana. Esse foi massa.

Audio: Sammy Bananas, “Transcontinental Baião (Carioca Remix)”

JCV: Massa is written, produced, and edited by Schuyler Whelden and me, Juliana Cantarelli Vita. Special thanks to João Paulo Rechi Vita and Julinho Mendes. For episode transcripts and links to further reading, please visit our website, essefoimassa.com. That’s E-S-S-E-F-O-I-M-A-S-S-A dot com. You can email us at essefoimassa@gmail.com. Follow us @essefoimassa on Instagram and Twitter. Our intro music is by Som da Massa and our outro music is by Sammy Bananas. Please join us in two weeks as we continue our discussion of forró with the dance rhythm called baião. Until then, esse foi massa.

*Cover photo by

**Translations of Julinho Mendes voiced by João Paulo Rechi Vita.