From Sonoro to Aparelhagem
The early history of Belém’s sound systems, 1940s-1970s
Belém do Pará is the undisputed sound system capital of the Brazilian Amazon, with a vibrant scene that rivals that of Jamaica, Colombia, or Mexico.
Belém is home to 1.5 million people and more than 700 formally-registered sound systems, better known as aparelhagens (“equipment”). While today’s aparelhagens have attracted a lot of international attention, the origins of this phenomenon are often overlooked.
Documentation is limited. Family photos are scarce.
But many people who grew up during the 1940s and 50s remember the precursors to today’s sound systems. Their recollections – together with what faded photos, rusty equipment, and scratched records remain – can help us piece together an untold story of working class creativity that played out on the jagged edges of Amazonian modernization and urbanization initiatives.
“I ask that you put an end to an abuse practiced daily by the profiteers of amplifiers and loudspeakers installed at various points around the city.”
1940s
One of the earliest documented precursors to today’s aparelhagens are the serviços de alto-falante — “loudspeaker services” — that were installed in public squares, markets, and storefronts throughout Belém. For a fee, these street corner “radio stations” would read out advertisements, interspersed with recorded music. By 1941, they’d become so common that the director of Belém’s only radio station filed a complaint with state authorities:
The owners of the instalações sonoras do not subject their announcers to tests or evaluations, and so improper, incorrect, and at times crude announcements are read by people who are practically illiterate, leaving the passerby uninformed and, what’s worse, the visitor with the impression that radio broadcasting in Brazil is anarchic.
Loudspeaker services continued to be viewed as a nuisance by the authorities. In 1951, Belém’s police chief, at the request of the Mayor, ordered the city’s approximately 60 loudspeaker services to shut down. But the “bocas de ferro” (lit., “iron mouths”) could not be silenced for long.
1950s
By the early 1950s, some sound system entrepreneurs had begun specializing in festive events, hiring out their picarp (the Brazilianized version of the word “pickup” or electric record-player) for birthday parties, social dances, and Carnaval balls.
These so-called sonoros de festa were modest by today’s standards. But as Otoniel Fialho recalled, they got the job done:
We played events using one record-player, a 50-watt tube amplifier, and a 15” speaker, with a metal sound projector pointed outdoors. That was back in the days of 78 rpm records that had one song per side. With 50 of those, we’d play the entire night long. Forró, xaxado, bolero, rumba, mambo…
By the end of the decade, many self-taught technicians were building sound systems that accommodated two record-players, more powerful amplifiers, and custom speaker cabinets. Sonoros were no longer just anonymous rigs hired to play in place of a live band. Many began developing followings of their own. Among the first generation of beloved sonoros were Hércules, Sínter, Voz do Trabalhador, Monte Carlo, Big Ben, and countless others.
“We used to hire a boat to take us out to the ships that anchored in the middle of the river where we’d buy records from abroad…”
1960s
During the 1960s, Belém’s sound system scene came into its own, with social clubs, workingmen’s associations, and dancehalls promoting dances every night of the week. According to Sebastião Meireles, former selector for Flamengo:
Most consoles in those days were custom built, using vacuum tube amplification. There were two speaker cabinets with at most four KF21 and four ST, and a sound projector. That’s it. That was a party.
The key ingredients that could make or break a sound system dance were the charisma of the emcee or locutor, and the musical selection, which was overseen by the controlista or selector.
Some dancers developed a taste for fast Caribbean genres like merengue, porro, paseíto, and cumbia. Sound systems that catered to this audience went to great lengths to get rare records from abroad, and to keep them a secret from the competition.
These recordings — like the dancers they attracted — were not welcome in all social clubs, however. As Otoniel Fialho explained:
Merengue wasn’t prohibited in social dances, but it was censured. There were dances where, God forbid you play a merengue, because the club’s directors would come down hard!
By the end of the decade, many clubs began hosting merengue dance competitions, “respectability” politics be damned. The people had spoken; they liked their music hot.
1970s and beyond
During the 1970s and 80s, Belém’s sound systems grew in size, wattage, and decibels. Transistor technology replaced tube amplification. A range of new media technology from reel-to-reel tape to 8-track cartridges was incorporated into the console, at times quite ostentatiously. The sonoros gave way to a new kind of sound system known as an aparelhagem after their prominent display of aparelhos or equipment.
Throughout their long history, Belém’s sound systems have provided access to modern forms of communication and entertainment that were otherwise out of reach for working class Amazonians.
Sound systems have also provided multiple generations with opportunities to socialize and create community in a sometimes hostile urban jungle.
Sound systems are a source of regional cultural identity, and, for many, part of a proud family heritage.
For these reasons and more, we say that Amazonian sound systems are more than commercial entertainment. They are a testament to the creativity and resourcefulness of countless technicians, selectors, emcees, and dancers who were unwilling to wait for modernity to be handed to them. They understood they had to seize it for themselves, and they put it in service of joy and community.
