Cibelle Cavalli, reputedly stellar in her native Brazil, now resides in London's Shoreditch where she is a purveyor of "tropical punk" (her term).
Her third album concocts dream-like textures from Hawaiian guitars, rainforest xylophones and vocals which recall the Andrews Sisters' ersatz Caribbeanisms on "Rum and Coca-Cola". It's a sound reminiscent of the sort of easy-listening kitsch hipsters were rediscovering circa 1996, but it haunts the imagination far more powerfully than the average exotica-by-numbers effort.
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