Gal left us, the gigantic Gal, the ‘João Gilberto in skirts’, Gracinha, the woman who sang as she wanted, sweet and soft or explosive and electric, the Gal who fixed herself in my imagination with “Festa do interior”, “ Where is the money”, “Chuva de Prata” and so many other hits but that definitely stuck to my DNA many, many years later, in other trips, with his first albums.
And today, since I learned of his departure to Aruanda, one of these albums has not left my mind, the debut of Gracinha, released in the same year of 1969. in which she delved deep into psychedelia and her experimentation🇧🇷 Funny that both of them were faithful companions, each one at a different time in life. Anyway, stories of drugs and pain, who doesn’t?
Gal Costa, the album, was the official beginning of the serious relationship between Gal and me and between her and black music – funk, soul and its grooves – the lysergic grip of people like the Temptations, the strident guitars; it was the beginning of the end of innocence and the separation between the supporting Gal of Domingo and (even of) Tropicália… and what she would become, “A GAL” that in a short time would be moaning and screaming about pulsars and quasars and a few years later would scandalize the good Christian brazzziu with her thong and her breasts on the cover and back cover of India.
By the way, speaking in Christian and good brazzziu, since 2018 “Divine wonderful” has been a constant soundtrack and now, just now that we are able to breathe again, Gal left us… drip while I stop writing and she sings ‘South America is my name, world is my name, my size…’.
Thank you, Gal! You are the size of the universe. See you soon ❤️