Forró Miór – Forró Miór: A Rustic, Toe-Tapping Italian Spin on Brazilian Folk
Alright, let’s get one thing straight: I wasn’t expecting much from an Italian band called Forró Miór playing folk music rooted in Brazil. Like, come on—Italy? Forró? It sounds like someone tried to mix pasta with feijoada and hoped it wouldn’t be a disaster. But guess what? These guys pulled it off. And not just pulled it off—they made something that sticks in your brain like a catchy jingle you can’t shake.
First things first: the lineup is tight. You’ve got Alberto Becucci squeezing life out of his accordion like it owes him money, Niccolò Pacini hitting the triangle so sharp it could cut glass, Nicolas Farruggia pulling double duty as both guitarist and vocalist (multitasking royalty right there), and Timoteo Grignani pounding away at the zabumba like he's summoning rain spirits. Together, they create this wild blend of energy and nostalgia that feels like stepping into a sun-soaked village square where everyone knows how to dance but won’t tell you the steps.
Now, onto the tracks. There are eight songs here, all dripping with authenticity and heart, but two really stuck with me. First up: “Xote das Meninas.” Oh man, this tune is sneaky. Starts off innocent enough, with the accordion doing its lil’ jiggy thing, but then BAM!—the rhythm grabs hold of your hips and suddenly you're wiggling around like some kind of caffeinated marionette. The vocals by Farruggia are smooth yet playful, like he’s whispering secrets only you can hear while simultaneously daring you to laugh. This track reminds me why dancing should always feel like joy wrapped in sweat.
Then there’s “Cajuina,” which hits different. It’s slower, moodier, almost like the band decided to take a breather and pour their souls into every note. The guitar work here is lush and dreamy, like lying under a tree watching clouds morph into shapes you’ll forget five minutes later. When the accordion chimes in, it adds this bittersweet tinge that makes you wanna call your ex—or maybe just hug yourself awkwardly. Either way, it lingers long after the last note fades.
The rest of the album keeps the vibe alive with gems like “Asa Branca” and “Que nem Jilo,” each bringing its own flavor to the table without overstaying its welcome. No filler tracks here; it’s all killer, no chaser.
What struck me most about Forró Miór is how effortlessly these Italians nail the essence of Brazilian folk. They didn’t try to reinvent the wheel—they just gave it new tires and took it for a spin down cobblestone streets. Sure, sometimes the transitions feel a smidge rough, and yeah, if you’re a purist you might raise an eyebrow or two, but honestly? That rawness is part of the charm. It’s like eating homemade pasta—it doesn’t have to be perfect to taste amazing.
So here’s my hot take: If you’re looking for polished perfection, go listen to something else. But if you want music that feels alive, messy, and full of soul, grab this album. Just don’t blame me when you catch yourself humming “Xote das Meninas” during a Zoom meeting.
Final thought: Who knew Italians could teach us so much about Brazilian vibes? Maybe next they'll tackle samba—or better yet, flamenco. Wouldn’t that be something?
