Matuto

Overview

It's Carnival in Recife. It's Mardi Gras in New Orleans. And watch out: That just may be the Devil spinning through the dancing crowd, trying to get friendly with the saint in disguise, with the diamond in the rough. The rolling drums and quicksilver accordion licks, the earthy vibe and thoughtful reflections mingle on Matuto's latest refinement of their Appalachia-gone-Afro-Brazilian sound, The Devil and The Diamond.  Matuto's songs can sway hips just as easily as spark insights. Drawing on Northeastern Brazil's folkloric rhythms like forró, maracatu, or coco, and on deep Americana—from bluegrass to spirituals to swampy Louisiana jams—Matuto uses unexpected Pan-American sonic sympathies to craft appealing, roosty, yet philosophical tales of love, self-discovery, nostalgia, and true peace.  "The devil is what's keeping us from our best selves, which is the diamond we have the potential to become," Ross explains, spinning the narrative thread that ties the album's pieces together. "That tension exists in all of us and in a loose way, this album outlines the journey we take, when we wrestle with the devil and find the diamond."  What wide-ranging Americana and jazz guitarist Clay Ross and accordionist Rob Curto, one of the movers behind New York's Forró For All (when not touring with folks like Lila Downs and David Krakauer) began as a curious exploration of their shared musical loves, Matuto (a Northeastern Brazilian slang term for "bumpkin") has blossomed into a platform for expressing broad truths, ideas inspired by Buddhist sutras, personal epiphanies, and the musicians' down-home upbringings.