Shame on you if you don't know who Lena d'Água is. One of the main female figures of the so-called Boom of the Portuguese Rock that happened in the late 70s/early 80s, she was initially part of the Beatnicks, after which she sang with Salada de Frutas, then formed Banda Atlântida, and finally established herself as a solo artist. However, and despite her enormous talent, she suffered from both professional-related issues (she left Salada de Frutas due to "several divergences" with the other band members) and a rather tumultuous personal life. And it's also true that, apart from a few collaborations here and there and a couple of re-releases, she hasn't released a proper album consisting solely of new material since most of you reading this were even born. Until now.

The first sign of the possibility of a comeback appeared early last year, when she recorded 'Electrificados' for the soundtrack of a Portuguese TV series 1986. Then she gave an amazing show at Milhões de Festa in September — which, in spite of being advertised as a collab with Primeira Dama, saw hundreds of people heading North for a chance to finally see her live — putting a definite stop to some malicious rumours that she had lost her voice and her joie de vivre. But nobody was expecting a proper LP to be on the way.

Desalmadamente (which roughly translates as "desperately") is proof of the rising of a phoenix. It's Lena's well-deserved laugh in the face of those who thought she was crazy or sick or dead — especially after an impromptu Facebook post a couple of years ago which saw her asking for financial help, the sad destiny of most medium-sized musicians end up facing, unable to tour or live off royalties. Desalmadamente shows Lena the way she is: an eternal cheeky little girl, once an undisputed sex-symbol against her will, talented from the moon and back, always eager to incorporate new influences into her pop sound. It confirms her status as the unquestionable indie queen of Lisbon, the eccentric (and up until here, somewhat reclusive) aunt of all hipsters, the living example that you can hit rock bottom in your life — she struggled to kick a heroin addiction that almost cost her her life, and over the years saw many of her close friends disappearing either to drugs or AIDS (the case of António Variações) — and still come around, rise from the ashes, open your chest, and sing in a crystal-clear, pristine voice of the worldly innocence she was all too famous for showcasing.

From earwormish single 'Grande Festa' to dream pop ballads 'Bem Que Vos Avisei' or 'Voltas Trocadas', through the slight folktronica adventures of 'Hipocampo' or 'Queda Para Voar', Lena's resurrection is a precious jewel, a diamond no longer in the rough but still surprisingly fashionable. In her lyrics, she unashamedly comments on the idiosyncrasies of having been a pop phenomenon, reflecting on her younger years without ever falling in the bitter nostalgia trap that most do.

With a huge amount of comebacks of the kind being nothing but sad, middle-age crisis-fueled attempts to relive a glory that sometimes was never there to begin with, Lena d'Água's Desalmadamente rings as relevant and true (sometimes even more than most releases around, actually) as if it had been crafted in the height of her fame. It's good to have her back; but in some uncanny way, it feels like she's never left.