Crizin da Z.O. - Decoding the territory

With the release of their third album, “Acelero”, Brazil's Crizin da Z.O. have brought their musical formula to full maturity, letting the fireworks of genres ranging from rap to Pagodão Baiano, by way of drum'n'bass, punk, tamborzão, industrial and batucada, explode around the gravitational center of funk carioca. To find out more, we got in touch with Cris Onofre, who within the Rio de Janeiro-based collective is also the voice and the lyricist. What follows is the account of a long online chat.

Hi Cris, thanks for being with us. So, do you want to tell us how and when the Crizin da Z.O. project was born?

First of all, I want to thank you for the interview and for the chance to talk a bit about our art! So, back in 2015, when I was living in the south of Brazil, I started DJing at some parties I threw at my house (the Lavanderia collective). Danilo (AkaDindo) and I started experimenting a lot with funk and electronic music. It was inevitable that at some point we'd decide to mix all of this with our experience as a band, between shows and tours. The project was born as an "imaginary character" and, little by little, took the shape of a band, which is the one we know today. At the start it was just me and Danilo, then Fiedler and João joined (the latter played with us until 2022). Today we're a collective whose goal is to write albums and play live.

Before starting the Crizin da Z.O. project, did you have any other experiences in music?

My musical taste has always been very broad, spanning funk carioca, punk, samba, metal, electronic music... Growing up on the outskirts of Rio, you don't have much to turn to, so everything ends up becoming one big jumble of sounds.

If I understood correctly, Z.O. stands for Zona Oeste, meaning West Zone, the one in Rio de Janeiro, which is your "territory." In the song "Território," you sing: “Tenho pensado muito sobre território/ E como eu me comporto em cada território/ Às vezes eu não to bolado, eu to só pensando/ Mas depende muito do território” ("I've thought a lot about the territory/ And about how I behave in every territory/ Sometimes I'm not thinking, I'm just thinking/ But it depends a lot on the territory"), underlining, if I understand correctly, the bond between the reality one lives in and the thoughts that run through one's mind...

Rio de Janeiro is a capital with very stark inequalities. The difference between territories is obvious, and this shapes the mindset of anyone born and raised in this city a great deal. The West Zone, in particular, is enormous, home to different social classes and to territory controlled by conservative militias, which is enough to turn any young person's head around. When I'm working on art, I end up moving through several other territories, and that has always sparked reflections and questions in my mind.

What does "Crizin" mean, instead?

It's like "Lil' Cris" [Little Cris, ed.]. So, "Crizin da Z.O." stands for "Lil' Cris from the West Zone."

Your music conveys a view of the world that's far from idyllic, dystopian even, one that seems to reflect both the harsh social and political situation of your country (I'm thinking of the Bolsonaro years...) and that of the whole world, where wars, climate crises, economic systems often on the verge of collapse and so on are the order of the day. There are no easy solutions, or maybe the solution is to let everything collapse so that, sooner or later, it can all regenerate. What's your point of view?

I understand that a lot of what I write gives off a "fuck it, the world is ending" vibe, but I don't think I'm putting that forward as a solution to today's techno-political problems. I believe that, as a South American worker, I can't afford to enjoy the end of times in some romantic, glamorous way, and that's the big irony and the reflection behind my lyrics. I put myself in the shoes of a human observer, with my own contradictions and everything else, and I try to describe what catches my attention and makes me think about this chaotic scenario.

Your mix of funk carioca, punk, rap, drum'n'bass, tamborzão, batucada, etc., gives off a vibrant, futuristic aura. Does this pull toward the future hide, perhaps, a desire for escape?

To be honest, I don't think this sound is all that futuristic these days. I think it's modern, but the sense of the future within it is just an idea, a concept that develops involuntarily, perhaps to then create a new scenario to escape into.

So is there a type of sound today that you consider truly futuristic, and if so, which one?

I honestly don't know. I think "futurism" in music always ends up boiling down to someone chasing an idea of what the future should sound like, usually missing the mark. That said, if I really have to think of something I consider genuinely NEW, then I'd say Brazilian funk and also Brazilian tecnobrega are the closest things to the future that I can imagine.

I found the title of your first EP very interesting, “Tudo está acontecendo ao mesmo tempo agora”, which means "Everything is happening at the same time, now". Is it a reference to the "global village" and the simultaneity of events in the age of globalization and so on?

Absolutely. I grew up in the '90s and 2000s and got to watch the phenomenon of globalization – driven mainly by the arrival of the internet – transform the world around me in many ways, and of course it's always important to point out that the globalization we experienced in Latin America is different.

Let's dig a bit deeper into this issue of globalization tied to Latin America…

I'm mainly talking about personal experiences. Brazil is a country with a lot of social inequality, and as a result an enormous variety of artists and musical genres. I'd say that people living in the outskirts end up experiencing globalization unfairly, because you can get to know the cultures, music and arts of the whole world, but having access to the resources and the means to actually make new things is a whole other story…

How did you get in touch with Iggor Cavalera? Do you like Sepultura?

When we released the album "Alma Braba", he listened to it, really liked it, and got in touch with me through our mutual friend Mariano (of Deaf Kids, Sarine and other bands), and from there we started talking and building a virtual friendship. At some point we discussed the possibility of doing something together someday. All of us in the band were really happy and excited, because obviously we love Sepultura, Petbrick and many of Iggor's other projects. When we were putting together "O Fim Um" it was the perfect opportunity to invite him.

Why did you call your latest album “Acelero”?

"Acelero" was the word that best defined everything we wanted to express in the lyrics and sound of this album. The idea of always being on the move, always faster, with little to no chance to rest. I feel that way more and more in the world, and I think a whole lot of other people feel the same: we're collectively accelerating, but without knowing where we're heading. In Brazilian Portuguese, "acelero" can also be slang for saying that someone was "accelerated" by another person, in a not-so-friendly way. For example: "Yesterday I got 'accelerated' by the police".

I think I get what you mean… You know, lately over here too some people have gotten "accelerated" by the police… But let's move on. I really like the way "Acelero" has been presented, that is, as a record that wants to sing about "the ironic feeling of fantasizing about and announcing the end of the world while it's happening". Will irony save us from destruction?

We also need our playful, subjective side in order to survive. So, I wouldn't say it saves us, but it is a defense…

How has your music evolved over the years, starting from the EP “Tudo está acontecendo ao mesmo tempo agora”?

From that point on, what had been a project centered mostly around me and AkaDindo turned into a band. The two of us, together with Fiedler, started to understand the sound we were creating much better and managed to refine it into what you can hear today. "Acelero" is definitely the album where we worked hardest on the songs, within a more concrete idea of what our sound actually is.

Aside from the reality that surrounds you, what has inspired your music (literature, film, painting, etc.)?

Everything. I like to write freely, jotting down ideas for lyrics and, at some point, putting together one big collage out of them. That's why my lyrics sometimes seem so narrative, because they're actually everyday notes turned into melody, into literature... So everything is liable to end up within my frame of reference: comics, films, my friendships, things I see on the street, stories people tell me... As for the instrumental side, it's a very strong mix of the influences the three of us have built up over our lives, from the most obscure bands we love to the current pop music we're really into.

Your true debut album was "Brasil buraco vinte vinte", released in April 2020, at the height of the Covid-19 pandemic... What exactly does the title mean, and what do you remember of that period?

"Brasil buraco vinte vinte" is like "Brazil hole twenty twenty". The idea behind this title was to make the album truly time-bound, something that would sound both like a record and like a portrait of a specific historical moment. So the title already signals that this is meant as the soundtrack to that moment. During that year, here in Brazil we went through a terrible, neo-fascist handling of the pandemic. It was a time with little hope and a lot of hatred.

Regarding the themes running through your lyrics, what has changed, if anything, from your first EP to "Acelero"?

I devote myself to writing very much in the moment, pulling out whatever comes to mind as I write... I think that's what gives my lyrics an almost documentary-like feel, and that approach hasn't changed much since then. I do think that today I have a bit more awareness of what I can do with my way of narrating the world, and I'm gaining more confidence to do it in more experimental ways, whether that means rapping, speaking words, screaming, or whatever else I feel like doing. There's been a shift in direction here, because at the start I felt held back by the idea of "having flow". As for the lyrics themselves, as I've often said in recent albums, I feel that today I'm freer to talk about more subjective feelings.

What's your relationship with the Brazilian rave scene?

I started getting into electronic music through Rio funk, but I never had much experience with raves and that sort of thing. In Brazil today, I think these two scenes are finally coming together a lot more, which has pushed me to get closer to the rave scene. Our music gets a really warm reception when we play at raves.

The Brazilian music scene is always buzzing, even if it's not easy to keep track of all its branches. Any recent releases you'd recommend?

Gladly: I'd recommend the album "Mimosa" by cabezadenego, Mbé & Leyblack, but also the work of Jeza da Pedra, Saskia, Deafkids, Sarine, Yantra, DJ K, DJ Ramon Sucesso, Teto Preto, Dharma Jhaz, Prefeitura do Rio, Índio da Cuíca, Test, Slipmami...

What were the most important records for your musical upbringing?

Speaking just for myself, I remember the first album I listened to and fell in love with was the compilation "Funk Brasil" on the Som Livre label, from 1995, and then I remember what really won me over was the compilation "Furacão 2000: Tornado Muito Nervoso 2" by the Furacão 2000 crew. As a teenager, I was especially struck by classic Brazilian punk, bands like Ratos de Porão, Cólera, and non-Brazilian hardcore-punk bands like Spazz, Charles Bronson, D.R.I., etc. I also really loved Brazilian rap, stuff like Racionais MC's, Planet Hemp, Facção Central and Quinto Andar. I've always loved Brazilian music the most because, ever since I was a kid, I loved paying close attention to lyrics. Today, as an adult, I can also see that other albums were hugely important to my musical development, like "Lado B Lado A" by O Rappa (1999), "Da Lama ao Caos" by Chico Science e Nação Zumbi (1994), "Martinho da Vila" by Martinho da Vila (1974) and "Repeater + 3 Songs" by Fugazi (1990), but there's a lot more I always forget to mention when I do interviews.

Have you ever been to Italy? What do you know about our music scene?

I've never been, but I'd love to go play there someday. I'll admit I don't know much about it, but when I was younger I used to listen to Italian hardcore bands like Raein and La Quiete.

What are your next steps? Will your next album be made by Artificial Intelligence? 🙂

That would be fun! Who knows, by then he might already be able to make better albums than ours. From now on our goal is to play a lot, do shows, get to know places and people both inside and outside Brazil. 🙂

Pinto o que dá com a paleta que tenho

coisa que eu penso que vira desenho

muita coisa, tudo muito

hoje o centro tá o mundo

foda que ele faz macete

destino de vagabundo

muito tudo tá tendo

gosto de veneno

coração tranquilo

camiseta do flamengo

Só que tem bad que é diferente

tipo quando tu sonha com dente

eles caindo na tua frente

daí tu acorda falando de repente:

“caralho, eu sonhei com dente”

Aquele dia foi um dia desses…

Tenho pensado muito sobre território

e como eu me comporto em cada território

às vezes eu não to bolado, eu to só pensando

mas depende muito do território

Queria um rolé tranquilo

no calçadão de Bangu

dia de carnaval é foda

tentação é um absurdo

gringo que cantou de galo

vacilão tomou no cu

quando eu retomei o foco

tava dentro do metrô

com cinquenta conto que ele

practically borrowed

(Território)

Ride the wave of great music

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