Wilson Simonal

Wilson Simonal, a foundational figure in the evolution of Brazilian popular music, continues to attract scant recognition beyond South America. He originated the pilantragem style that ruled Brazilian charts throughout the late '60s and became the country’s first Black pop superstar, yet his trajectory never rebounded after claims surfaced that he had served as a police informant. Greg Casseus’ detailed account The Saga of Wilson Simonal, which appeared in the spring 2004 issue of Wax Poetics magazine, records that the artist entered the world as Wilson Simonal De Castro on February 26, 1939, in the Rio de Janeiro neighborhood of Agua Santa. Following military service, he worked during the late ’50s as personal aide to Carlos Imperial, the newspaper columnist, talent scout, and media gadfly, who helped him secure engagements singing rock & roll at Rio nightspots such as the celebrated Beco des Garrafas.

Simonal never aligned with the bossa nova aesthetic then ascendant in early-’60s Brazil, so his 1962 debut LP, A Nova Dimensão do Samba, which blended classic samba rhythms with vocals and arrangements drawn from American soul and doo wop, met commercial indifference. Its 1963 successor, Tem Algo Mais, fared considerably better; the set featured a singular blend of bossa nova, jazz, and orchestral pop that yielded the hit single “Balanço Zona Sul.” A subsequent stopgap release, the single “De Manha,” also became a major success and introduced the work of its then-unknown composer, Caetano Veloso. Across his career Simonal displayed a consistent gift for unearthing emerging songwriting voices, committing early material to record by Gilberto Gil, Chico Buarque, and Geraldo Vandré.

While he prepared his third album, S’imbora, a right-wing military coup installed a regime that subjected Brazil to twenty years of repression. The upheaval that overtook Brazilian life ended bossa nova’s broad appeal; although many listeners gravitated toward the light pop/rock known as “iê-iê-iê” (or “yeh-yeh-yeh,” in tribute to the Beatles), Simonal moved in another direction, enlisting the trio Som Três to forge a vigorous mixture of soul, jazz, and samba animated by Latin American boogaloo rhythms. He labeled the hybrid “pilantragem,” a term loosely rendered as “piracy,” denoting the practice of freely appropriating elements from any source provided the resulting assembly cohered. The 1966 LP Vou Deixar Cair... inaugurated the pilantragem era and produced the blockbuster “Meu Limão, Meu Limoeiro,” an adaptation of the traditional American folk song “Lemon Tree.” Shortly afterward Simonal debuted his own television variety program, Show em Si Monal, which also supplied the title for a live album issued in 1967. Later that year he released the first installment of the four-volume Alegria, Alegria!!! series, widely regarded as the artistic pinnacle of his output. Anchored by “Nem Vem Que Não Tem,” arguably his most successful international recording, the collection’s buoyant, festive atmosphere—enhanced by party ambience and applause framing most tracks—resonated widely even as government pressure intensified.

With the appearance of 1968’s Alegria, Alegria!!! Vol. 2 and its hit “Sa Marina,” demand for the pilantragem approach prompted Simonal to form the side project A Turma da Pilantragem. The following year, Alegria! Alegria! Vol. 4 delivered his greatest commercial triumph, the Jorge Ben-penned “Pais Tropical.” Although the track expressed ardent affection for his homeland, some leftist listeners detected an uncomfortable proximity to official rhetoric, a suspicion sharpened by Simonal’s military past. After issuing 1971’s Joia Joia he departed his longtime label Odeon for Philips; around the same period his accountant, Rafael Vivani, informed him that lavish spending and unwise investments had left him penniless despite millions of records sold. Convinced that Vivani had embezzled funds, Simonal enlisted contacts in the Departamento de Ordem Política e Social—the police apparatus of the military regime—to abduct the accountant and extract a confession. Vivani was later freed and filed an extortion suit. During the proceedings an army general testified that Simonal had actually been a DOPS informant tasked with monitoring fellow musicians. The allegation dominated headlines for weeks, and amid the ensuing turmoil Philips released his debut for the label, Se Dependesse de Mim, which failed commercially. 1973’s Olhai Balandro, e Bufo No Birrolho Grinza! met the same fate. In late 1974 Simonal served a two-week jail term on criminal charges stemming from the Vivani episode; his final Philips album, Dimensão ’75, surfaced concurrently and attracted minimal interest.

Now persona non grata in Rio de Janeiro, Simonal moved to São Paulo, signed with RCA, and issued Ninguem Proibe o Amor in 1975. Two further RCA albums followed—1977’s A Vida é So Pra Cantar and 1979’s Se Todo Mundo Cantasse Seria Bem Mais Facil Viver—yet music occupied a shrinking place in his existence as he labored to demonstrate that the military had orchestrated his downfall. He married lawyer Sandra Manzini Cerqueira, who vigorously pursued his legal rehabilitation while he descended into alcoholism. Sporadic recordings appeared over the ensuing decades, including the comparatively muted 1981 album Alegria Tropical, 1985’s Charme Tropical, 1991’s Os Sambas da Minha Terra, and 1995’s Brasil, each receiving scant notice. His last LP, Bem Brasil-Estilo Simonal, emerged in 1998. Simonal succumbed to cirrhosis on June 25, 2000. Only after his death did Cerqueira gain access to Justice Ministry and Department of Strategic Affairs files confirming that his name appears on no roster of military informants. His catalog is now stocked in Brazilian record shops and belatedly earns recognition. Meanwhile his sons Max De Castro and Wilson Simoninha maintain active recording careers, the latter supervising an extensive reissue program devoted to his father’s work.