by Gal Costa (1969)
Gal Costa’s self titled album begins like a sunny afternoon:
you’re resting your feet and eyes swaying in a hammock in your backyard, the scent of tropical flowers lulling you to day dream.
Quickly, though it turns into the same afternoon once your lover has returned from a walk along Ipanema carrying ingredients for mojitos with half the tanned, good looking population from the beach trailing behind him for an impromptu party…
Perhaps even an impromptu party where some hallucinogens might be passed around as stuff does get pretty psychedelic.