Language, Music, and the Shower-Stall Revelation*
Before coming to Brazil, Fogy had never thought much about the English language — it was simply what he was born to and could be understood throughout most of the "English-speaking" world. Little did he know that that wasn't the whole world.
When Fogy was in New Zealand, he spent several weeks going from store to store, searching for a specific style of music that haunted him — but he never quite found it.
It wasn't until he arrived in Brazil and heard the bossa nova, the samba beats of the samba schools, and Olodum, that he realized he'd probably found what he had been seeking all those years ago.
What is even more interesting is how language and music tend to define each other. When we think about English music, we might consider Frank Sinatra's New York, New York, where he starts spreading the news, and we feel the gentle sway of both the music and the lyrics — very much reflecting how English itself moves and breathes.
When we listen to Portuguese, we hear the vibrant rhythms of Brazilian music, and begin to realize that the way the music flows, the way the language is spoken, and the beat behind both are all intimately connected.
Interestingly enough, when you hear a Brazilian try to sing an English song, they often struggle.
Conversely, English speakers have great difficulty with Brazilian music and songs.
The best example I can give is The Girl from Ipanema. In the very popular English version, we hear:
The Girl from Ipanema
Tom Jobim / Vinicius de Moraes
Tall and tan and young and lovely
The girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, each one she passes goes "ah"
When she walks, it's like a samba
That swings so cool and sways so gentle
That when she passes, each one she passes goes "ah"
We can feel the rhythm — and while it hints at bossa nova, it leans toward the slower, smoother cadence typical of English.
Now, compare that to the original Portuguese version:
Garota de Ipanema
Tom Jobim / Vinicius de Moraes
Olha que coisa mais linda
Mais cheia de graça
É ela, menina
Que vem e que passa
Num doce balanço
A caminho do mar
Moça do corpo dourado
Do sol de Ipanema
O seu balançado
É mais que um poema
É a coisa mais linda
Que eu já vi passar
Simply reading the lyrics won't fully reveal the difference — but if you've experienced it, you know: the Portuguese version carries many more beats, nuances, and a rhythmic complexity that gets smoothed out in English.
While giving classes, it's often fascinating to watch students struggle with phrasing and pronunciation. Some labor for 10 to 15 minutes before something clicks — a lesser-used memory takes over, and suddenly their English flows more naturally.
Keeping my own natural English intact is just as challenging. With the constant influence of Portuguese around me — those subtle, persistent differences — it's a daily balancing act, especially when 80% of my conversations now happen in Portuguese.
So what’s the conclusion?
If you really want to master a foreign language, embrace the music of that language. Dance to its beat; tongue-twist your way across its unfamiliar vocal gymnastics.
Understand that language and music walk hand-in-hand — and that even a shower-stall moment, where you stumble through a song in another language, can become one of the most productive leaps you’ll ever make.
Listen to Fogy read this post for you
You’ve tricked me! I was expecting the Brazilian version of the song—but surprise, surprise! Instead, we’re treated to a reading by the author himself. Brilliant!"
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