Caetano Veloso

Cê (Nonesuch)

How’s your Portuguese? Me either. Surely, though, Cê means s-e-x. Either way, Brazil’s Lennon cum Sinatra, 64-year-old Caetano Veloso, is feeling randy. Without the lyric translation, the singer’s native tongue seduces nonetheless. With it, Cê goes NC-17. Rattlesnake “Other” fires first, with “a happy and cruel look on my face – happy and cruel as a hard-on.” Juxtaposed against Veloso’s voice, a marvel of velvety provocation to the ear, the maestro’s lyrics are pure Don Juan. Past the Baja tones of “My Tears,” and lethal slap of “Rocks,” however, the album’s midsection goes limp. The warm musical bed also blurs, begging for more of son Moreno Veloso, as on the sonic soap bubbles of “Hybrid Muse.” Taut returns on “I Hate,” Veloso’s lyrics almost classically Greek before the inevitably brutal end declaration. “Man” claims not to be jealous of woman (“I only envy … multiple orgasms”), while “Why?” pines for simultaneous climax. “A Dream” drips (“your incision, my mallet”). Insert Viagra witticism here.

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This article appears in March 2 • 2007.

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San Francisco native Raoul Hernandez crossed the border into Texas on July 2, 1992, and began writing about music for the Chronicle that fall, debuting with an album review of Keith Richards’ Main Offender. By virtue of local show previews – first “Recommendeds,” now calendar picks – his writing’s appeared in almost every issue since 1993.