Shine Of Dried Electric Leaves

For anyone fond of Cibelle's 2003 self-titled debut, a pleasant album of Brazilian downtempo typical of Six Degrees (a trendy worldbeat label based in San Fransisco with a Lonely Planet-like following), The Shine of Dried Electric Leaves is likely to generate a sense of surprise. It's a bold move in an indistinct direction, away from the broadly appealing samba-lite downbeat of her self-titled debut album and toward abstract soundscapes and poetics. It's a consciously artistic direction, for sure, and while her music is just as graceful as before, with her absolutely beautiful vocals in the forefront at all times, it's a more difficult approach to grasp, one that reveals itself steadily with each successive listen. After all, Cibelle had been an immediately appealing album, comprised of feel-good music that was difficult to dislike, much like Bebel Gilberto's beloved Tanto Tempo.