Records of the soundtrack from "Ainda Estou Aqui"

The movie kicks off with the best Tom Zé album from 1970, in a super high-energy scene where the youth are just vibing. It’s amazing how Jimmy Renda-seadds so many layers of meaning to that moment—not just with the distorted guitar and offbeat drums, which match the youthful energy and action, but also with its lyrics.

The song’s voice—mockingly blending foreign influences—criticizes Brazil’s consumerist relationship with American imperialism. And just as all these layers of meaning start to build up, they get cut off by a military checkpoint under a viaduct, setting the tone for everything that follows in the film.

Carlos, Erasmo – É preciso dar um jeito meu amigo

Now, this is a classic everybody loves—the best Erasmo album, with lyrics that say it all: a call for resistance in the face of what was happening in Brazil and the search for a way to fight back.

At the time, the situation was completely unbearable for anyone with a functioning brain. In the film, the song plays as the Paiva family builds the house they’ll live in after their father returns from exile—a symbol of their determination to keep going, to keep fighting for Brazil. The song also plays over the credits, showing their now-empty house in Rio, a haunting image of how the dictatorship tore families apart through force, torture, and murder. 

Juca Chaves – Take me back to Piauí (1970) 

This single is another big one—by comedian Juca Chaves. Take Me Back to Piauí is a playful critique of the abandoned development plans that Rubens Paiva had fought for as a politician. Rubens and President Jango were part of the Brazilian Labor Party, fighting for workers’ rights, public housing, better education... Their platform became known as the Reformas de Base, which, if not crushed by the military coup, could have turned Brazil into a Tropical Paris—as Juca jokes in the song. Seeing the Paiva family dance to this track, despite its sharp political message, speaks to Juca Chaves’ genius—he taught Brazilians how to laugh in the face of dark times. 

Gal Legal – Acauã (1970) 

This masterpiece by Gal —Legal—already carries a strong meaning, right? Back then, all art had to pass censorship before it could be officially released in Brazil.The song Acauãis a reinterpretation of poet Zé Dantas’ work, telling the story of a bird that symbolizes bad omens and drought in the Brazilian backlands. In the film, it plays as the Paiva family’s eldest daughter packs her bags to leave the country, at a time when the dictatorship’s harshest measures were tightening their grip—another bad omen that, unfortunately, became reality.

Mutantes / Tropicália – Baby (1968) 


Of course, I couldn’t leave out Os Mutantes—the ultimate symbol of the Tropicália movement.Caetano’s Baby appears on both Tropicália and Os Mutantes albums, perfectly capturing the movement’s rebellious spirit. With electric guitars and lyrics listing consumerist habits, the song mirrors Brazil’s cultural absorption of foreign influences. The tropicalistas embraced this as a way to be critical, ironic, and provocative—highlighting the contradictions of a country both drawn to and dominated by American culture. After all, you NEED, you NEED to consume to be happy, to belong. In the movie, this song plays in a video of Veroca abroad.

There are plenty more key songs in the film that help paint a picture of Brazil’s history, but that’s too much for one video. 

However, one track I think was perfectly chosen to illustrate the passage of time is Fora da Ordem,by Caetano Veloso.

Caetano Circuladô – Fora da ordem (1991)

The lyrics paint a vivid picture of Brazil’s contradictions. The line "Aqui tudo parece que ainda é construção e já é ruína" ("Here, everything seems like it's still being built, yet it's already in ruins") sums it up: Brazil is caught in a never-ending cycle of progress and collapse, where development and chaos coexist.Caetano references pop culture and political figures—from Michael Jackson to Lampião—showing a Brazil that absorbs and reshapes everything but never truly resolves its structural problems.By the ‘90s, the dictatorship was over, and we had a new Constitution. In the movie, years have passed, and the Paiva family is finally receiving the official death certificate for their father, who had long been classified as a desaparecido político (political disappeared). But that document comes with a bitter truth: the torturers were granted amnesty, never facing justice.