Twofer Tuesday #7

New Directions not taken back in 1987: Brazilian legend Helcio Milito + the weird long life of Startled Insects

More than the holy grails that rise upwards on the record store wall, sometimes it’s those passed-over $5 records in the cheap bin that give pause, invite a curious listen, and impart a sense of enchantment (not to mention a very light burden on the budget). About a month apart, I came across two cheapies and artists that felt wholly unfamiliar to me, Startled Insects and Helcio Milito. It wasn’t until I had them side by side that I realized they featured curiously similar artwork and were both released on Antilles New Directions in the year 1987.

An offshoot of Island Records in the early 1980s, the New Directions roster seemed to include odd hybrids, weird world music entries, and the like; It included soundtracks by the likes of Tom Waits and Philip Glass, but also things like the contemporary compositions of Mexican composer Samuel Zyman and Bush Dance, Naná Vasconcelos’s awesome detour into DX-7 beats and breakdancing rhythms:

Going back to two records from the mid-‘80s might scream nostalgia exercise, but I’m seeking new neural paths, something unknown and unfamiliar. And one of my guilty pleasures is hearing the sound of older modes of music-making abutting the nascent technology of the time, which was in abundance during that decade (also experiencing music I would have hated/ ignored in my teen years that I now find to be infinitely fascinating).

It’s the latter record that makes me give most Antilles releases a spin (not that anything has quite hit that high of Naná). But only the second solo album from fellow countryman Helcio Milito is worth a listen. Milito’s first album was a rare slice of 1969 bossa nova, Imagem Barroca Vol.2, and it would take over a decade to follow it up. But Milito was a tad busy. He was the drummer on one of the greatest bossa groups of all time, Tamba Trio (but not the breezy offshoot, Tamba 4), and when João Gilberto triumphantly headlined at Carnegie Hall in 1964 with Stan Getz, Milito was his drummer.

Which should tell you about the subtle nuances of Milito’s style: intricate but never overt, supple yet spare. Kilombo also boasts bright artwork from Belgian artist Jean-François Octave in a faux-primitive style. Octave designed album art for Les Disques Du Crépuscule and did cover art for the likes of Durutti Column and Tuxedomoon.