Ode to the Rock Gods

Rock gods of Portuguese that is. Sometimes I feel saudades for the hard pull, guitar pumping, emochonic metal scene back home. Rock in Brazil is alive, buried in pre-performance line ups and smokey filled bars. It hits home, every now again, in the screechy thralls of Pitty (prounced "pichee") and a Sepultura cat call or two. For the most part, Portuguese and leather pants are hard to mix. The language is just too melodic, and few bands find the fine balance of scream and sing, of melody and ballad with that "bahhhhhh!" purpose I so cherish and love. Many Brazilians think Guns & Roses was the high light of the rock scene, as if Axle Rose never turned into the the creepy plump guy you keep your children away from that he is. No, rock in Brazil is young, is still finding its sound, and miles away from Tool and Rage and the rest of the little devils paving the way. When I do find a tune I can bang my cabeça to, my respect will definitely head their way.