The soul of Fado

American Fado and its musical cousins
blues, soul...

Hey everyone,
I started this thread because I’m genuinely curious—what goes through your mind when you listen to fado? What is it about that sound that grabs hold of you? Did it ever make you want to pick up a new language just to understand the lyrics better? And I’d love to know—whose voice was the first one to really pull you in?
Have you felt those same kinds of deep, soulful vibes while listening to the blues, classic soul, or maybe some old-school folk music from the South...

I'm really looking forward to hearing your thoughts. 👋

Oh man, you caught me!

Call me an idiot, but I honestly get chills every single time I listen to fado... it's just that good. It hits you right in the solar plexus, and that heavy, aching melancholy kind of spreads through your whole body until you're basically tearing up....okay, fine, maybe I'm being a bit dramatic, it's not like I spend my whole day crying over some poor sailor's tragic fate, but man, it really gets to me... deeply.🙂
Either way, it just forces you to close your eyes and surrender to that rush of emotion and pain the singer is pouring out. I'm sitting here picturing myself somewhere by the coast in New York City, tucked away in some tiny local hole-in-the-wall where they serve shellfish you just eat with your hands... and the singer's lament is just echoing from deep inside that little tavern.😍 😍

I first fell in love with fado when I heard the legendary Ella Fitzgerald... she completely cast a spell on me. I think Louis Armstrong is amazing too, along with unknown (from the old school era). I also absolutely love listening to unknown, unknown, Adele... and Fleetwood Mac.👍 🙏

That comparison to our local blues styles is pretty interesting, though for me, the closest thing we have in terms of vibe would probably be those slow, "sotto voce" choral arrangements you hear around here.😁

Cheers unknown !😁 😁

Fleetwood Mac. It’s just pure, heavy melancholy, if you can even call it anything else.🙂
I’ve never really been able to get into Misia, and while Ella Fitzgerald’s voice was undeniably dramatic and soul-stirring, I always find myself gravitating back toward Fleetwood Mac. They just have that more indie vibe for me...😁 😁
When you look at those folks from the Midwest—yeah, they definitely share that same sense of longing. It's unmistakable. That feeling of... I don't know, a sweet kind of sadness, whatever you want to call it...

slylynx8 said:That comparison to our local blues styles is interesting, but personally, I feel like the closest thing we have in terms of mood is that slow, hushed, almost whispered choral singing...😁

Local blues genres? For crying out loud...
I don't get this supposed connection between the vibe of Fado and American choral music at all. Fado is a solo act, and it's always performed in such a heavy, dark atmosphere. You just can't compare them on the same level...😬

autumn said:Local blues genres? Give me a break...
I don't really get the whole connection between that soulful Fado vibe and American a cappella groups. I mean, Fado is usually just one person singing, and it’s always so incredibly moody. They aren't even playing on the same level.😬

Okay, fine, maybe my comparison was a little clunky. Let's try again—how about we call them local "heartbreak and longing" genres? Does that make more sense now?

Man, that thing about the a cappella groups is totally just my own personal take. 😉

Man, I tell ya...
even someone like Sarah Miller gave him a hell of a piece of her mind—it was basically an all-out verbal assault. So yeah, even in a place like Austin, things are just as wild!🥳

I remember back in the day when I used to listen to a little bit of Fado—mostly because a friend of mine would practically force it on me. Then, one summer, I finally made my way out to New York City, and oh man, it was incredible. The atmosphere... just smoke, drinks, small plates, and this singer who looked a little worn down, performing in some dive bar in the French Quarter. The locals were all there, just watching her sing that music with such raw sadness and soul. Honestly, I still get chills whenever I think back to that night. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I was head over heels for a certain Portuguese person at the time? I didn't understand a single word she was singing, but somehow, it hit me right in the heart. 🙂

Which kind of music? The New York City style or the one from Boston??

hey.....................how am I just now seeing this?

First time I ever heard Fado was during a trip to Portugal back in '99.
It was the voice of Ella Fitzgerald.
That sound totally hooked me.
Obviously, I moved on to Fleetwood Mac, some unknown artists later on... I bought a ton of stuff over there.
But nothing beats seeing them live.
Barefoot and eyes closed.
👍

What did it feel like?

I wrote this down a long time ago.
So, here it is.

peace👋

HOMMAGE TO FADO #unknown#

Look, I’m definitely not unknown, I wasn't born in New Orleans, my mom isn't a ballerina, and her family isn't from California. I don't sing on my tiptoes with my head tilted until it hurts—or maybe because it hurts. But I close my eyes, just like she does.
The word 'fado' doesn't show up in any old dictionary. When I was a kid, I used to think if a word wasn't in the dictionary, it didn't matter. Man, was I wrong. Fado is real. I've seen it. I've seen the French Quarter; the red and the black; nights so intense they make your head spin. It's that sadness spilled over gray tablecloths in a dark corner of the French Quarter, and hands stained deep red like wine. When Ella Fitzgerald passed, the whole country was in mourning for days. I was in New York City at the time, watching black-and-white photos drift through the streets with roses over her chest; it made me realize how much people truly loved her. God, they loved her...
No, I'm not really unknown, even if I've got my own mission. She doesn't know about the weird, electric letters I get. And I don't know why people write to me about how they watched me sleep, or how beautiful my hands look when they're still. Instead, they write to me about withdrawals, about heroin, about hearts hardened like stone, about bitten nails, about people who never leave, about purple nights and blue wax... but never about love. That autumn, Fado was the answer to all my wandering and all those conversations I'll eventually turn inside out with you. Fado was that mix of blood and wine; that tearful year; that mental fever—which ultimately turned me into nothing more than a simple address where screams arrive from afar, pleas for help, and knees begging for forgiveness.
No, I'm really not unknown, even though I know my way around California and Nevada; even though I know about the roses in the evenings and the monuments in Malta. My name is like a grave somewhere in the Rocky Mountains; neatly stacked stones that you can't even drive a cross through; no blessings, no prayers. Only Fado speaks of it. Of who I actually am.

The very first time I heard that music—back when I had absolutely no clue it was Fado—I just started sobbing. It was one of those moments where you can't even wrap your head around why you're breaking down over some song playing on the radio, let alone questioning what on earth is happening to you in that moment... it was surreal.

I eventually went down a massive rabbit hole trying to figure out what that feeling was, and ever since then, I’ve been completely obsessed with the genre.
Honestly, I have such a deep love for everything about the culture, the vibes, and the music... it's basically my ultimate dream.
🙂

I can't even picture New York City without its soul.
No matter what I hear, new or old, nothing’s ever touching Ella Fitzgerald's throne.
🙏

"If I could just settle down and live alongside my Cinnamon Girl, I think I’d finally find some semblance of happiness for the rest of my days..."👋

... jazz was actually born and bred in Cape Verde, specifically in Praia. It didn't start in Portugal. The Portuguese basically ripped it off from the people in Cape Verde.
... just so there's no confusion here...
ps
... my other parent is Portuguese, so when you guys are talking about the roots of this music (or the whole lifestyle), please don't overlook Cape Verde... or those African influences... Portugal has its own version of the rabbit. Is it Alphonsa?...
..anyhow...where were we? ... lost the thread? ....

lonebison37 said:Man...
Tamara Obrovac actually hits pretty hard too, honestly—it’s more like "pure grit." So yeah, the whole scene is definitely in the mix!🥳

That's actually a really solid comparison you made.
Comparing Transhistria Ensemble to Madredeus works if you're looking at that ethno-jazz fusion vibe, but otherwise, Tamara and her crew have a much more irreverent edge. Plus, the kind of melancholy she sings about isn't quite that "sweet sadness" thing; it feels more grounded in the struggle of poverty and just the sheer weight of a hard life—that whole "tender soul" persona and all that.

My first encounter with the soul of Jazz happened when I spotted a great-looking CD at a local garage sale for half price—it was titled The Story of Jazz. I’ve always had a soft spot for music that leans into those melancholic vibes, but when I actually sat down and listened to this stuff, I wasn't quite prepared for the impact. That disc was a compilation featuring all sorts of different artists, and while a few voices and tracks stood out immediately, nothing really hit home until I heard Amalijin Best of. At first, I couldn't quite grasp the lyrics (which, honestly, can be a good thing sometimes 😉), but as time went on, I started to truly understand how much the interpretation matters when you're trying to separate the good stuff from the mediocre. A somewhat naive lyric, when backed by a powerful enough voice, can end up sounding incredibly sincere and perfectly balanced. What fascinates me about this genre is the sheer dignity used to express pain and those heavy, deep-purple emotions. A passionate performance always manages to reignite a spark in me—it hits a very specific spot somewhere deep in my mind.
😵

Here is a classic from the Amalijin Best of collection:

With what voice shall I weep my sorrowful fate,
buried by such a profound passion.
May death not be the grief left behind
by time, through my deceived beloved.

But crying brings no comfort in this state,
where sighing has never once helped.
I wish to live sadly, since there changed
into gloom the joy of my past.

And so I pass through life discontented,
to the sound of this prison's heavy chain
that pains the foot which suffers and feels.

Of all this misery, the cause is pure love,
due to the one who is absent from me,
for whom I risk my very life and all I own.

🙂

It’s honestly heartening to see more people listening to The Story of Jazz and truly grasping its essence. I'll just share a few expressions that really resonate with how I feel about it...

I get goosebumps every single time I listen to The Story of Jazz... it's just that good. It hits you right in the gut—that aching melancholy spreads through you like a chill until the tears start flowing. Okay, fine, maybe I'm being a bit dramatic here; it's not like I'm weeping over some poor sailor's fate every five minutes, but man, it really gets to me. Deeply.

My identity feels like a lonely grave somewhere in the Rocky Mountains; stones laid out neatly, where you can't even drive a nail through. No rites, no blessings. Only The Story of Jazz speaks to that. It speaks to who I actually am.

quote:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
FannyB says:
That comparison to our local blues styles is interesting, though personally, I feel the closest vibe we have here is that slow, "sotto voce" style of choral singing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Local blues genres? Good grief...
I'm just not quite seeing the connection between the mood of fado and that type of choral singing. Fado is usually a solo performance—one person, often in a dark setting. They aren't really suffering on the same level.

Well, maybe they aren't suffering on the exact same level, but you can certainly find songs that tackle equally heavy themes, even if they sound pleasant and catchy on the surface: things like "The Orphan Has Fallen Asleep," "Have You Heard the News," "Tomorrow You’ll Be Taken," "Don't Worry Little House," or "Grant Me a Girl in the Village"... just listen to the lyrics when they are performed well. PAIN is a heavy, constant human emotion. It's about the feeling the music creates within the listener. Personally, I think people who love fado are looking for a sense of catharsis—a way to cleanse themselves.
🙂
Let's try to throw out some songs with that kind of character from "around here"—meaning the broader North American region. Just shout out whatever comes to mind; think about how an empathetic listener would actually feel! Cheers!

Look, if you ask me, that stuff sounds like old blues.
I'm talking about some classic Louis Armstrong tracks The Band and stuff like that.
Plus, there’s those North American-style tunes.
Mostly the ones performed by dd Synthesis, maybe even some Eric Clapton tracks, both the old school and the newer stuff.
Definitely some soulful folk ballads too.
+ Like, I listen to Joan Baez and her songs.
As for local music... hmm... mostly just some Midwestern folk or stuff from the South, but I don't see any connection between barbershop quartet singing and jazz in any way, shape, or form.

Yellow Quinces

Two kids were deeply in love
for six months, maybe a year
trying to tie the knot, just get married, man
but their enemies wouldn't let it happen

Then beautiful Fatma fell ill
her mother's only child
craved yellow quinces, those yellow quinces, man
quinces straight from Istanbul

So her guy sets out to find them
those quinces from Constantinople
but he's gone for three years, three long years
no word, no sign of him coming back

Finally, he shows up with the fruit
only to find Fatma on a stretcher
I’ll give you two hundred to lay her down, three hundred to uncover her
just so I can kiss Fatma one last time...

But seriously... man...
🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 this stuff just kills you with sadness.......