Ah, we've arrived at bossa nova: Spanish for "the new boss," because when João Gilberto and Stan Getz popularized the genre with their 1964 album Getz/Gilberto, everyone took notice of the new boss in town. Or something like that.

This album, The Best of Two Worlds, is the reunion of Getz (saxophone) and Gilberto (vocals) over a decade later. (Gilberto's then-wife, known professionally as Miúcha, joins as well, providing the English vocals.) This music is precious: it's exquisitely beautiful, and sumptuously smooth. That smoothness is pleasing, but at times it runs the risk of becoming sedate. When I listen to jazz, I'm not looking to appreciate an abstract Rothko with detached amusement—I want my passions inflamed, dammit! Tijuana Moods is such an interesting contrast here: both albums have their souls in Latin America, but their vibes could not be any more different. The Best of Two Worlds is foolproof dinner party background music; with Mingus it's chaos and confusion, fire and brimstone. (Yes, the hellfire is a good thing.)

That being said, the first two songs on this album are sublime enough to transcend my impertinent grousing. "Double Rainbow" is the most magnificent song ever to feature a double rainbow, and that is a category with stiff competition. But "Aguas de Março (Waters of March)" is the runaway star for me. I don't generally go for its style of free-form, abstract lyrics, but here everything just works, thanks largely to Miúcha's lithe vocals and Getz's legendary tone. (No shade to Gilberto, who is a great singer as well, but he just doesn't make my heart ache like Miúcha.) Apparently the lyrics are inspired by the sudden, heavy March rains in Rio de Janeiro, which routinely carry various detritus through the streets. It's a highly evocative image, and one that makes me think I need to get outside more. I shudder to think of a version of this song inspired by my life… A bit, a byte, a keystroke at night…

Favourite track: Aguas de Março (Waters of March)