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Dora Morelenbaum took her sweet time recording, compiling, and releasing her first album, Pique. Arriving October 18 via the Briton label Mr Bongo, the project is a powerful entrance for the Rio de Janeiro-based singer, songwriter, and composer. For those who waited patiently as her first run of quiet, gorgeous singles trickled to a halt in 2021, it’s a vindication, emphatically exhibiting her star power as a soloist.
Morelenbaum’s bona fides have been established locally for some time. Coming from a formidable musical family (her parents, Jaques and Paula Morelenbaum, have worked on legendary projects with tropicalia titans Gal Costa and Caetano Veloso, bossa nova progenitor Tom Jobim, and incomparable Japanese keyboardist/composer Ryuichi Sakamoto), she stepped out of their towering shadows in 2022, shining out within a group of Rio artists pushing música pop brasileira into the 2020s. SIM SIM SIM — Morelenbaum, Julia Mestre, Lucas Nunes, and Zé Ibarra’s debut album as Bala Desejo — won that year’s Latin Grammy for Best Portuguese Language Contemporary pop album.
On Pique, Morelenbaum stands at the forefront, but her people are close behind. The album was co-produced by multi-hyphenate firebrand Ana Frango Elétrico, and most of its tracks credit co-writers: Five were written with Tom Veloso (another scion with massive shoes to fill), not including “A Melhor Saída,” which Veloso wrote alone; two were crafted alongside Morelenbaum’s fellow Bala member Ibarraok ; and São Paulo rocker Sophia Chablau (of Sophia Chablau e Uma Enorme Perda da Tempo) penned the lyrics to “Venha Conmigo,” an anthem for spontaneous lovers.
“I’m gonna make the hours sleep / Put God to rest / There’s no workday today / Let’s be reckless, let’s go to Ceára,” Morelenbaum sings in Portuguese on the latter track over Alberto Continentino’s sensuous bassline and Luiz Otávio’s comfy Rhodes piano chords. She’s referring to a state in northeast Brazil known for its beautiful beaches, and she later jokes that the tandem trip is a kidnapping, asking her hostage to “Smoke a cigarette / Switch off the lights / And seduce me / Take my top off / Make me see.” In this context, Morelenbaum’s decision to feature her mother on backing vocals is a scandalous wink.
The subject matter isn’t always so breezy. Pique is bookended by two versions of the same track. Its opener’s title, “Não Vou Te Esquecer,” translates as “I Won’t Forget You,” but the sentiment is complicated on the hook: “Não vou te esquecer nem te procurar,” Morelenbaum croons; she’ll always remember her past love, but she won’t go looking for it again. Her instrumental accompaniment is soft and slow and not without a fair dose of melancholy, but there’s a swing to the accompaniment that feels more like moving on than dwelling. And her tone, while not exactly glowing, is honeyed and never quivers; the time for crying has passed.
The mood of closing track “Nem Te Procurar,” meanwhile, is ecstatic — so much so that its manic cheeriness can feel forced at times. The song runs through the same lyrical content as its original version in roughly two-thirds of the time; Morelenbaum moves at a breathy, breakneck clip while her 21-piece backing band rush to keep pace (they do so seamlessly, of course). If Pique was, as she wrote in a press release, “an album made in motion that ended up being about just that,” then “Nem Te Procurar” is the race to the finish line, sealed with a smile that’s just a touch too wide.
Pique is characterized by these highs and lows — soaring and sinking to appropriate heights and depths, but always with a hint that things might not be what they seem. The snappy, almost slapstick funk — the New Orleans kind, not the baile variety — of “Sim, Não” (“Yes, No”) underscores a story of unrequited love: “To resign myself without pain / From the objects on the floor / To wait for the YES / And receive the NO.” A similar trick is played on “Caco,” which hides a warning to steel oneself against the sting of rejection behind a rapturous choral refrain. Meanwhile, the album’s most sweetly rendered songs, “A Melhor Saída” and “Petricor,” have opposite themes: the latter is a lush love song, the former a desperate plea for a way out of a toxic relationship.
Then, there’s “Essa confusão” (literally, “This Confusion”), in which sumptuous strings arranged by Morelenbaum and her father circle a majestic melody. Its lyrics move in perfect sync with these twists and turns, describing the emotional tumult induced by a relationship in which one never knows where one stands.
Dora Morelenbaum’s debut album comprises 11 songs, but its sense of an ending is achieved most gracefully on its ninth track, “Pique.” Aside from tasteful notes of clarinet and English horn introduced near the end of the minute-long title cut, Morelenbaum and her acoustic guitar stand alone. “I saw myself growing up / Pains in my heels / And in my chest a single lament / Longing for someone / I’ve always loved / The sad emptiness of illusion,” she sings over simple strums. “I won’t dwell / [On] sadness and loneliness / There are many reasons to dream / I threw myself on the song / And stretched out / It vibrates the note and warms the heart.”
