Letuce

— sobre

And Letuce enters the arena. An Amazon of totemic proportions, Leticia Novaes roots her long legs in the floor, grabs the microphone/spear with both hands, turns her face to partner Lucas Vasconcellos, who carries on his shoulders that which is, according to Patti Smith, the only revolutionary weapon, “this is the only weapon we need to revolution! An electric guitar” she once screamed in a carioca stage. Letícia was there and, hearing it, said "Glory be!”! Leticia is an actress-rocker-bluesgirl-maenad. Lucas is a guitar player, conductor and restless researcher. The two of them, soul mates, are joined by accomplices of the highest level for a parade of several gem-songs from people who gaze beyond Tropicália, dig Dalva de Oliveira and Courtney Love, ride on a blue rocking horse throughout Marina’s illuminated Leblon and through the swinging Tijuca of Erasmos, Jorges and akin folk: Not pastiches but pistachios. Letuce wanna come, but Letuce doesn’t want only pleasure, Lettuce wants ple