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Boogarins' albums are weird ecosystems that grow on you (no wonder their debut was called As Plantas Que Curam - The Plants That Heal). Sure, certain tracks stand out ('Lucifernandis', 'Erre', or 'Doce' on their debut, 'Avalanche' or '6000 Dias' on Manual), but their albums are set to be perceived as a whole. It may not exactly be love at first sight, but it certainly is an everlasting one.

Even if they are the heirs by excellence to the golden era of Tropicália, Boogarins (thankfully) aren't trying to copy what has already been done by the likes of Os Mutantes; they are, instead, trying to find their own place among a wide variety of references both old and new, and therefore constructing their own voice.

Manual opens with a 43-second jam called 'Truques' ('Tricks') - a mellow warm-up for first single 'Avalanche' (As Plantas Que Curam opened with 'Lucifernandis', which featured a small cacophonous ambience before jumping head-first into the single's addictive riff). "The greatest demonstration of the propagation of the being is the echo," is the song's first words, while the riff keeps growing like a bewitched rainforest, taking over in the chorus (during which Fernando Almeida incessantly screams "that they don't let me see the sun," pulling us into his own musical suffocation.)

The beautiful jazz guitar we hear is revisited on 'Avalanche''s follow-up 'Tempo' (and many other times during the album), engaging in a duet with the fuzz-filled riff that replaces the chorus altogether, while the drums breathe slowly but steadily in the background. And then it abruptly falls into second single '6000 Dias', a less experimental (but no less interesting) track that takes your mind for a ride during the solo before fading out and into 'Mário de Andrade - Selvagem', a more energised and rather schizophrenic tune (well, maybe not if we consider it to be two songs instead of one - 'Mário de Andrade' and 'Selvagem').

Dawn comes in the form of 'Falsa Folha de Rosto', the bass line quietly painting a pink-and-orange Amazonian sunrise that is both magnificent and sad, while 'Benzin' is a straightforward tune that mixes both Tropicalism and '80s Brazilian indie (and yes, the omnipresent jazzy guitar is still talking to us, like a lover that whispers sweet nothings in our ear and makes us lose concentration every other minute). Sensuality remains the dish of the day with instrumental piece 'San Lorenzo', before the contemplative 'Cuerdo' emerges like a light that grows bigger and bigger as you approach the end of a tunnel. Soft murmuring proves to be an efficient way of simulating an underwater, slow-motion experience, during which we are periodically brought to the surface by an insistent guitar.

And suddenly 'Sei Lá' wakes us up like a shot of Thorazine, a trip cut short due to us being near the end of the album. The track non-violently digs its way into our conscious, leaving a footprint that is both bright and clear before 'Auchma' comes to kiss us goodnight.

If you still haven't heard Boogarins' full-length debut, it would be interesting to do so before embarking on ; As Plantas Que Curam provides an interesting contrast - making us realise they've chilled-out and don't seem as interested in frantic neo-psych as they seemed to be in 2013. Manual is mature, engaging, and will prove to be - I believe - much more durable in its relevance to Boogarins' musical heritage.

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