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This piece written by DJ Cliffy was originally printed in FACT magazine:
James Brown may be the godfather of funk, but south of the equator DJ Marlboro gave birth to its bastard child, 'funk carioca'. Conceived in the backstreets of Rio's favelas some 20 years ago, funk carioca ('carioca' simply means anything from Rio) combines the sound-system culture of reggae and the anthropophagic instincts of samba with the hyper-kinetic breaks of Miami bass.
'Baile Funk' (meaning 'funk party') has been banned by the police, just as samba was 100 years ago, and crucified in the press because of the apparent links to drugs and gun-culture. However, behind the headlines, every weekend over 300 baile funks cater for a combined audience of over 1.5 million people.
Nowadays Marlboro is a carioca legend, but his roots are humble. Fernando Luiz Mattos da Matta grew up in Sao Goncalo, an ugly sprawling suburb of Rio far beyond the bay of Gaunabara. When he first started Djing at the age of 15, Malboro didn't even have the bus fare to make the 20-mile journey downtown, and would often walk the distance, records under arm. That's how he got his DJ tag, because he came from the 'the land of Marlboro', miles out in the sticks.
He started Djing in the mid-'70s, when the baile-scene was hotting up. It was like that club scene in City of God, the one where everybody's sporting flares and Afros. "Even back then, there were many parties spread through Rio," recalls Malboro. "The blacks went to the soul parties and whites to the rock. This wasn't an imposition so much as a natural separation. The promoters had to arrange not to finish at the same time, or there would be a punch-up in the street."
Towards the end of the '70s, rival fractions were temporarily reunited by a new phenomenon - disco. Black DJs played the funkier end of the disco spectrum and called it 'disco funk'. However, disco was short-lived. A killer new sound was on its way. "When Africa Bambaataa appeared on the scene, things turned upside down," says Malboro. "When 'Planet Rock' exploded across the world, Arthur Baker launched shit-loads of bands in that electro style. And in Brazil they were all successful because of the sound-systems, because of the wall of speakers that you'd have at the parties. When these tracks blasted on our sound-systems, it felt like our speakers had been waiting for that music. I thought 'what the fuck is this'? From there, the whole thing just took off. We found out they were making a new sound in Miami - the open bass sounded like the surdo on samba, which on our speakers sounded amazing - people were literally shaking on the other side of the room!"
Nobody in Brazil knew the music was called Miami Bass, they only knew it was edging out the disco funk so they thought, 'let's drop the disco and just call it funk' – the carioca bit was added later. Tracks like 2 Live Crew's 'We Want Some Pussy' and Freestyle's 'Don't Stop the Rock' also came with an added ingredient that guaranteed success with Brazilians: 'popozao' or 'booty culture'. Fashion developed to suit, with girls favouring tight trousers or mini-skirts and cut-down tops (exposing plenty of waist), and guys generally opting for surf-wear.
As the military dictatorship fell in 1988, baile funk was gaining a massive audience. DJs had taken to playing the b-side instrumentals, which opened the way for the crowds to improvise Portuguese lyrics. Marlboro had started producing his own backing tracks. He just needed singers, and young hopefuls were encouraged to step up to the mic live at the baile funks. The crowd acted as a barometer for success, and those who proved themselves went on to record finished versions.
These days, Marlboro oversees 30 sound-systems, which work up to 60 bailes each week. Getting in will cost you between five to ten Brazilian Reais (approx £1 to £2). Other established outfits include Cashbox (with three systems) and Furacao 2000 (with four). They charge approximately $1000 per baile. The DJs often use mini-disc, as it allows them to record new talent live at the bailes. Every Thursday, Marlboro and his DJs meet to check out any new discoveries, and work on repertoire for the following weekend.
 Marlboro started making waves on the national scene when kids TV-presenter Xuxa (think Caprice hosting Blue Peter) invited him to present a slot dedicated to new music. Slowly, he started edging in the funk, and even the white kids liked it. Perversely, just as success beckoned, baile funk entered its blackest phase. The authorities outlawed funk parties in an attempt to stamp them out for good, but this inadvertently drove them underground and right into the hands of the drug barons.
In the last few years, funk carioca has re-emerged from the ghettos - this time, capturing a new fan-base around the world. Admittedly, things are still not perfect back home: a few days prior to this interview, the police smashed-up Marlboro's sound-system midway through a gig. But interest overseas has helped legitimise the movement in Brazil. Several funk compilations released in Europe have been well received on the specialist market, and aspiring ghetto-rebel and Mercury-prize nominee M.I.A. has been presenting a more polished version of the funk to a mainstream audience.
Back in Rio, funk has found its first lady in the form of Tati Quebra Barraco (Tati breaks the shack). A hybrid of Camille Paglia and Jade from Big Brother, Tati has already been invited to perform across Europe. Next, she intends to take the Middle East by storm.
Words: Cliffy Pictures: Dani Dacorso
www2.uol.com.br/bigmix/djmarlboro.html www.evil-wire.org/~ampere/mp3/funky www.tatiquenranarraco.com.br |