Cheguei by Marinalva: A Forró Feast That’ll Make You Want to Dance (and Cry a Little)
Alright, let’s talk about Cheguei, the latest drop from Marinalva. If you’re into Latin beats with that raw Brazilian soul, this is your jam. It’s forró through and through—no frills, just heart-pounding rhythms, accordion magic, and lyrics that feel like they were written while sipping café on a sun-soaked veranda in Bahia. Released under Passarela, it’s got all the ingredients of a classic but still feels fresh enough to slap on repeat during late-night hangs or family barbecues.
Now, I gotta shout out two tracks because, honestly, they stuck to me like molho on pão de queijo. First up, “Tu És Minha Flor.” Man, this one hits different. The melody? Smooth as butter. But what really gets me is how Marinalva sings it—like she’s whispering secrets only you can hear. There’s something so tender about the way the accordion sways alongside her voice, almost like it’s dancing around her words. By the second chorus, I wasn’t just listening anymore; I was feeling it. Like, who hasn’t had someone in their life who felt like their own personal flower? Corny? Maybe. True? Absolutely.
Then there’s “Forroteque,” which is basically an adrenaline shot for your feet. This track doesn’t ask if you wanna dance—it demands it. From the first beat, you’re locked in. It’s playful, kinda cheeky even, and the energy is contagious. I caught myself randomly busting moves in my kitchen while making coffee. Not kidding. And those little instrumental breaks? Pure genius. They give you just enough time to catch your breath before dragging you back onto the imaginary dance floor.
The rest of the album keeps the vibe alive too. Tracks like “Voltar Pra Minha Terra” tug at your nostalgia strings, while “Vem Cá Morena” makes you wanna grab whoever’s closest and twirl them around. Even slower tunes like “Menino Chorão” pack an emotional punch without overdoing it. Each song feels intentional, like Marinalva poured every ounce of herself into this project.
But here’s the thing: Cheguei isn’t perfect. Some transitions between tracks feel abrupt, and a couple of songs blend together after multiple listens. Still, these minor hiccups don’t take away from the overall charm. In fact, they kind of add to its authenticity. It’s not trying to be glossy or polished—it’s real, messy, beautiful life set to music.
And maybe that’s why I keep coming back to it. Listening to Cheguei feels like reconnecting with an old friend—you remember why you loved them in the first place, quirks and all. So yeah, whether you’re a die-hard forró fan or just dipping your toes into Brazil’s musical goldmine, this album deserves a spot in your playlist. Just don’t blame me when you find yourself crying over “Tu És Minha Flor” one minute and spinning wildly to “Forroteque” the next. Life’s weird like that.
Oh, and P.S.—if anyone asks, I totally learned how to dance forró after hearing this. Spoiler alert: I didn’t. But hey, a guy can dream, right?
