Tropix

It's easy to forget how much of a revelation Céu was when she released her self-titled debut in 2005. Seductive and complex, it created an undeniable bridge between American and Brazilian music, mixing up R&B and jazz with samba and brega to create a musical backdrop for São Paulo that paralleled other major cities around the world. The formula has remained relatively the same since, each album offering tweaks without reinventing the sound, and Tropix continues in that vein. Stylistically, the one major change comes instrumentally, with French musician Hervé Salters joining the band, adding effervescent vintage synth sounds to the infectious ‘Amor Pixelado’ and rhythmic tour de force ‘Arrastarte-Ei’, recalling the experimental pop of Stereolab or Broadcast. Elsewhere, there is much experimentation: ‘Minhas Bics’ pairing a sprightly pop melody with big bass throbs; ‘Sangria’ offering a woozy electronic take on bolero; ‘Camadas’ bringing in a string section for a Gainsbourg-esque dose of provocation. It doesn’t always work: ‘Chico Buarque Song’ is strangely generic, switching between a quiet verse and anthemic chorus, lacking the subtlety we’ve come to expect.

If Tropix were released by a new artist it would get huge accolades. For Céu it adds to what is becoming an increasingly enviable body of work.