Artists considered tacky—such as Odair José and Waldik Soriano—have consistently topped bestseller lists. They were played on radio and frequented talk shows, but they didn't receive the respect they deserved or the space they deserved in books and theses, as they were frequently associated with the military dictatorship. In "I'M NOT A DOG, NO," historian Paulo César de Araújo fills this gap in the historiography of Brazilian popular music and shows how the figures most demonized for adhering to official culture during the "Lado" years were actually persecuted by the regime as much, if not more, than left-wing artists. "Tacky (or tacky) musical production is as much a part of Brazilian cultural reality as Tropicalismo and Bossa Nova, and deserves to be analyzed," the author argues. "I'M NOT A DOG, NO" addresses three aspects of the resistance role played by these artists. First, Paulo César de Araújo analyzes how many of their lyrics denounce authoritarianism and social segregation. Luiz Ayrão's song "O divorcio," for example—originally titled "Treze anos"—can be read both as an outburst from an unhappy man and as a call to action against the military regime. The author compares musical production within its historical context, paying special attention to the AI5 (Institutional Act of 1955). Paulo also notes that most of these singers experienced child labor: Nelson Ned and Agnaldo Timóteo were shoeshine boys. Paulo Sérgio, a tailor. The book also features several interesting tidbits from the world of cheesy music. These stories are only now becoming public knowledge. Like the time Odair José had his song "A primeira noite" (The First Night)—which tells of a boy's first sexual experience—censored, and to escape the ban, he simply changed the title. "Night of Desires" escaped the authorities unscathed. In fact, Odair José was a champion of federal censorship bans. His song "Stop Taking the Pill" was banned from airplay on Brazilian radio stations and throughout Latin America. But he wasn't the only one. Fernando Mendes had his Tribute to Carlinhos (the boy Carlinhos disappeared without a trace in the 1960s, in a notorious and still unsolved police case) banned because it could be interpreted as a reference to political prisoners. Waldik Soriano's maxims—"Women are like music. Music serves to cleanse the soul, women to clean the house"—are also present in "I'M NOT A DOG, NO." As are situations bordering on the tragicomic: Nelson Ned would pass under the bus turnstile because he didn't have enough money to pay for the fare. "That wasn't difficult for me," jokes the singer. These stories recapture artists who, between 1968 and 1978, rose to prominence in the national artistic scene. "Although forgotten, our cheesy popular music remains stored in informal communication structures," explains Paulo César. Let he who has never hummed a cheesy popular song cast the first stone. Despite their questionable taste, these melodies are part of the emotional heritage of thousands of Brazilians. Songs like "I'm not a dog," "Stop taking the pill," and "Wheelchair" are part of the repertoire of a Brazil of the excluded, a country plunged into military dictatorship and shaken by both moralistic marches supporting family, property, and the Church, as well as urban guerrilla warfare. Paulo César de Araújo, from Vitória da Conquista, Bahia, is a journalist, historian, and holds a master's degree in Social Memory. He works as a history teacher in elementary and high schools in the public school system of the state of Rio de Janeiro.
