When I went to Brazil some years ago my Brazilian friends (or one in particular) populated my ipod with hundreds of folky, traditional songs from Brazil, most of which failed to float my boat in the slightest. But there were some notable exceptions. I have a compilation of Jorge Aragao’s music and most of it ranges from slightly to very irritating; yet this one is gorgeous. The delicate guitar strumming, the swirling backing vocals, the handclaps to die for – if it’s possible to die for a handclap. Unashamedly lovely.