Brazilian rapper Emicida brings his laidback songs to London’s Barbican

Brazilian rapper Emicida’s name is taken from “emcee” and the Portuguese world for “homicide”. The emcee appellation was obvious as he perambulated the Barbican Centre’s stage with a microphone, but the homicidal side was less clear. Emicida, real name Leandro Roque de Oliveira, appeared the acme of amicability as he rapped his verses. Foot on monitor, elbow propped on knee, he leaned towards the audience in the amiable manner of a neighbour having a natter over the garden fence, not a stone-cold killer spitting bars like bullets.

The 37-year-old is from the indie wing of Brazilian rap. His name derives from youthful skills in the rough and tumble of battle raps, slaying opponents in São Paulo’s hip-hop scene with the quickness of his ad-libs. But despite that background, and the further challenge of being from one of the most unequal and violent societies in the world, his songs aren’t aggressively confrontational. Instead, they seek to persuade and educate.

In the US, these exercises in consciousness-raising would be called backpack rap. Emicida admires backpack maestros De La Soul, who he believes resemble “a Brazilian band singing in English”. His own country’s immense musical history is written into his songs too, like the tattoo on his arm of the name of Rio de Janeiro musician Pixinguinha. His latest album AmarElo aims to rescue Afro-Brazilian history from the coercive amnesia of a state that abolished slavery as late as 1888. The project includes a hit Netflix film showing Emicida performing at São Paulo’s opera house in 2019, a rococo citadel for the city’s European elite.

At the concrete citadel of the Barbican, playing to an audience chiefly composed of compatriots, the rapper was accompanied by Julio Fejuca on bass, Jhow Produz on drums and Michele Lemos on guitar. The show was part of the annual La Linea festival of Latin American music. An initially glitchy screen behind the musicians showed the same church stained-glass window designs as the Netflix-filmed staging. A mellow tempo predominated at first. Emicida rapped in an easy-paced, conversational fashion. Choruses had a gospelly, handclappy feel. 

The pre-recorded voice of the Brazilian avatar of musical activism, Gilberto Gil, rang out during “É Tudo Pra Ontem”, reciting a fable about community. For several tracks, Emicida played flute, one of Pixinguinha’s signature instruments. Fejuca occasionally swapped bass for cavaquinho, a miniature guitar used in choro and samba music. Support act Drik Barbosa guested on the charmingly jazzy duet “9nha”. 

Just as the evening seemed set to dissolve into a wholesome sense of warmth, a switch was flicked with the storming rock-rap of “Hoje Cedo”. Emicida’s rapping became sharper and more attacking. Lights flashed with greater intensity and the audience’s fervour went up a notch. He encored with “Libre”, a pell-mell number with a chanted refrain that collapsed the Portuguese word “nós”, meaning “us”, into the English word “noise”. By the end, Emicida’s name was self-explanatory: he had killed it.

★★★★☆

La Linea runs to May 7, comono.co.uk