Porta do Coraçao

Maybe you’ve heard of him through Rabih Abou-Khalil and the brilliant Em Português – a collaboration on which the Lebanese tried to make of Ricardo Ribeiro some sort of Portuguese Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Whatever the reason, it's unlikely you’ve been prepared for this. It took Ribeiro six years to get to Porta do Coração (The Door to the Heart), but it's worth every second of this long wait. Contrary to some of the new fado interpreters that have been rising at a freakish rate in Portugal, Ribeiro's take on fado doesn’t need a pop sweetening or a more exotic approach. It's as traditional as they come. No more, no less.

Each syllable of Porta do Coraçjão smells of Lisbon: it's like sardines, cheap red wine and hot nights in every alley of Alfama or Mouraria's neighbourhoods. A proud follower of Fernando Maurício and Alfredo Marceneiro's street spontaneous singing, Ribeiro guarantees with his second official record (his teen debut album doesn‘t really count) a male voice to follow the steps of Camané. Being this good at 28, one can only dream of what he’ll be doing in the next ten years.

Listening to Porta do Coração, even if you don‘t understand a single word of Portuguese, you can’t help but wave a little white flag surrendering to this sad and deep voice. It makes no effort whatsoever to avoid shedding its emotions all over the place. Taking it this high is rare and absolutely extraordinary.