Gerry Lyseight, the mastermind behind this ingenious compilation, fuses Brazilian music with Brazilian Portuguese in a manner that is surely underrated, based on where I found this in the record store. With featured guests like Max De Castro, Nina Miranda, and Moreno Veloso +2, Brazilian Melt evokes a sensual chill-out sound that can just as easily summon you to dance. There's a subtlety within the music that approaches an avant- garde-chill-out meets samba genre, but that subtlety is accompanied by an edgy and sexy tone as well, combining the styles in a fierce juxtaposition.

Typically, I find that compilations sometimes leave you a bit disoriented -- tracks are produced to take you on a journey and achieve that goal, but when the record is over, you're left staggering on the horizon. Not so with Brazilian Melt. The track layout is done efficiently and organically; each song blends with the previous and the one following it. There is nothing unprecedented about what you hear, although you could speculate how long it really took to create this comp, since each song speaks for itself in such a way that you feel like you're experiencing the artist, not just their music.

The album's first three songs on really serve as an introduction to the middle content; rare vocal appearances allowing you to unconsciously prepare yourself for what's to come. Arto Lindsay drives it home with "Pode Ficar," adding jazz to drum'n'bass with a light guitar accenting his vocals. Nina Miranda's "Can You Feel That" makes you feel like you've been sailing on the ocean for days with the right amount of beer and intoxicants, drawing you in and out of the chorus like waves to the sand. Then, just as you're about to close your eyes to an even deeper chill moment, Max de Castro's sexual lilt begs the question: "Can you really sit still through 'Afrosamba?'" After 4 minutes of orgasmic broken beats, Da Lata pushes Liliana Chacian, a prized Brazilian singer, to the forefront with bongos and panache. Beats and vocals swell in concert with Da Lata, and then you're greeted with Brownman Greenman pianos, insect-like drones, and some nutty bossa beats. Still, it flows surprisingly well.

Go ahead, try to match the instrumental Marcos Valle pseudo-beat-boxing that follows, his skills trifle with you as you wait for the buildup to crescendo. And crescendo it does, slowly, but surely. And while you're speculating what to do next, Incognito takes over with Prince-like guitar strumming and some hardcore bossa begging you to hit the dance floor whenever you're ready.

Yasmin Tabi