The Tribalistas could not be any bigger in Brazil right now, even though the local critics hated them. The supergroup, composed of Afro-Brazilian star Carlinhos Brown, veteran metal and art rocker Arnaldo Antunes, and the classic Brazilian pop-bossa diva, Marisa Monte is pouring out of every radio in Brazil, and the driving, earnest "Eu Seu Namorar" ["I know how to make love"] was the unofficial anthem of Carnaval in the northern capital city of Salvador this year. The B side, "Carnavalizar," is a simple, heartfelt tribute to the precommercial spirit of the escola de samba, the neighborhood associations that once gathered to sing and dance in the streets every Fat Tuesday, before enormous stadiums went up to present the carnival parades as a sort of televised Super Bowl spectacular.

"Do Coccix ao Pescoço" ["between your tailbone and your neck"] celebrates the record-breaking artistic longevity of Elza Soares, a samba singer from way, way back in the day who will immediately remind you of Earth Kitt. The music ranges from a simple samba, accompanied only by pandeiro and cavaquinho — a tambourine played in a distinctive manner and a cousin of the ukelele — to a grinding trip-hop reprise of Caetano's ominous "Haiti," a dark composition about the extreme racial violence and grinding poverty underlying the official myth of the "congenial Brazilian."

Margareth Menezes is another Luaka Bop protegé and a superstar of the trio elétrico, the moveable sound systems that take to the streets of Salvador every year. We caught her act at the Rock in Rio in Salvador and found the set a bit slanted toward crowd-pleasing axé, a delirious, dance-your-ass-off dance genre popular among northern youth but disdained by critics. But Afropopbrasileiros, her latest disc, finds her exploring all the nuances of her considerable range. Unfortunately, my girlfriend seems to have swiped the disc from my luggage as I headed for the airport, but believe me, I'd like nothing better than to write a lengthy analysis of every track. It's music deeply imbued with the Afro-Brazilian candomblé religion — as is the repetoire of her fellow Baiana, the gospel-trained, sweet-honey-in-the-rock-voiced Virginia Rodrigues — and eclectic Latin influences.

There's an amazing jovem guarda — the new generation — to be appreciated as well. I mention only four artists in passing: Lenine, author of the maximum-funk "Jack Soul Brasileiro"; Zeca Baleiro, who deconstructs the pagode tradition and writes incredible ballads; the carioca funksmistress Fernanda Abreu, whose "Katia Flavia"out-tom-toms the Tom-Tom Club by a mile; and the hypermetallic "atomic maracatú" of Chico Science and Nação Zumbi.

Brazilians, obscured by the geographically challenged northern giant that stands in their light, like to joke that if the U.S. ever decided to nuke Brazil, Buenos Aires would be the first to go. You are missing some of the best things in life, however, if you fail to locate it on your musicographical map.