The irresistible popular charm of Brazilian Gospel

Some time ago, I recorded a short interview for "Conversa com o Bial," a Globo program. They wanted a non-Brazilian perspective on the phenomenon of evangelical growth, specifically in music. These days, even artists like Caetano Veloso include praise songs in their concerts. The music made by evangelicals in Brazil is so influential that even those without faith can come close to its popular impact. There, following the original North American reference, they also call it gospel .

The funny thing is, there's a cat-and-mouse story when considering the relationship between music and the church. In short, popular music in the Western world wouldn't exist without the church. Rock music was born from the attempt to have a church without God. How so? In the mid-20th century in the United States, musicians took the ecstasies offered primarily by evangelical Pentecostalism outside the sanctuary—they wanted to maintain fervor without sacrificing holiness. Thus was born rock 'n' roll: let's imitate Sunday morning through Saturday night. Worship without the Creator (which is also why any concert today tries to offer the closest spirit to a community united in one belief).

Years later, and again in the United States (modern life's favorite stage), Christians sought revenge. If at first Hell seemed to win with rock , by offering church without God, later the church wanted rock without the Devil—thus the birth of Christian rock . Christian rock , let's admit, is ridiculous. But the ridiculousness of Christian rock exists only because of the ridiculousness of rock itself, which is trying to achieve the rapture of worship without God. All rock, with or without God, is a willful expression of the ridiculous.

But it's also true that the most interesting stories arise from the frustration of the original project. If rock tried to be church without God, and if Christian rock tried to be rock without the Devil, so-called Brazilian Gospel enters the scene with a very particular personality. Nothing and no one who arrives in Brazil stays the same: Brazilian Gospel is not the same as American Gospel. And Bial wanted to know how I saw it, from across the sea. I told him about these theories of mine (which were not included in the very short statement that aired), but I also had to acknowledge two different phases in my relationship with Brazilian gospel music.

As a teenager, I turned against the Brazilian evangelical music that had influenced me (and all Portuguese evangelicals) since childhood. I wanted to give my own Ipiranga cry. I became the evangelical who in Portugal felt compelled to dislike anything evangelicals liked. I was in college, had intellectually sophisticated friends, and felt left-wing. The music made by evangelicals in Brazil was obviously a byproduct as uninteresting, if not more so, than its North American inspiration. I had the understanding to understand this. Most evangelicals in Portugal didn't. So, I even corrected the Portuguese of some songs that came to me from there. I was different.

Until I finally had the opportunity to be recognized in the field I aspired to reach: Portuguese music. FlorCaveira, the label I founded with friends, became a critical favorite. I found myself a participant in the history of my country's contemporary culture. I earned a place. I felt at home with the elite. But this period was short-lived. Those who sleep with the press end up with their bed made. In no time, trends passed, and I, lacking the talent to remain relevant, became a has-been.

Once again, I've concluded that the most interesting things tend to be attempts destined for failure. My failure opened my horizons to understanding the failures of others. That's where grace shines—divine grace and humor—what God offers us, especially when our ambition has proven provincial. There's no greater disappointment than achieving our dream.

Interestingly, Brazilian Gospel attempts the American dream. It shamelessly and often cluelessly imitates what comes from the United States—it's doomed to try to be something it will never achieve, because the American from the South will never be from the North. In these encounters and disagreements, what no one expected is that, in the process, it would become something interesting. Yes, Brazilian Gospel is more interesting today than American Gospel because the former's efforts created a greater impact than the latter's prestige.

Brazilian Gospel , by imitating the music of the more privileged North Americans, offers South Americans a truly popular expression. Brazilian Gospel will hardly be accepted by the tastes of the more enlightened elite, but it cannot be denied as the most sincere manifestation of the people it aims to defend. Brazilian Gospel music is what revolutionaries have always dreamed of as the result of the masses emancipated by the power of a text. Marx didn't want a proletarian revolution; Marx wanted the irresistible popular charm of Brazilian Gospel .

Gospel music is sung by about 30% of the population in Brazil (nearly 60 million people) and listened to by even more. It's an unstoppable market force. Even the most satanic businessman can imagine the profits churches make. People in the supermarket listen to worship music. Not even Max Weber imagined this type of religious capitalism. Brazilian Gospel makes the poor rich and has stars singing the worship of the anonymous. Religious music in Brazil turns the world upside down.

So, if there's still rock 'n' roll in the world, it's certainly in Brazilian Gospel . I used to hate it, now I love it.