JAMILE AND VINICIUS GOMES

On Boundless Species, vocalist Jamile and guitarist Vinicius Gomes — joined by bassist Joe Martin — take the rich lineage of Brazilian vocal–guitar artistry and push it into surprising new territories wher Wayne Shorter, Herbie Hancock, Johnny Alf, Guinga, and Stevie Wonder all share a common horizon. Their drum-less trio creates a sound both intimate and cinematic — a chamber ensemble weith groove and a songbook mindset.

They met in New York in 2021, during the delicate return of live music. Both had already built careers in Brazil: Jamile, from Cachoeira do Sul, began performing professionally at 15; Gomes, from São Paulo, arrived after over a decade playing with some of Brazil’s most advanced composers. Jamile recalls, “We have so much in common — musically and personally. We’re always practicing, always evolving. We push each other.”

Both resisted the idea that Brazilian jazz in the U.S. must funnel through a bossa-nova lens. “For us, bossa nova is a facet of a complex kaleidoscope,” says Gomes. Jamile adds, “And we’re not afraid to explore the rest of it.”

That expansive view centers first on Guinga, represented twice on the album. One tune highlights his mystical side — harmony that bends time and space. “His music elevates my spirit,” Jamile says. “Who needs drugs when there’s Guinga?” The other dives into his playful extremism — a breakneck samba with harmonic trapdoors and structural audacity.

Their affection for Herbie Hancock comes through in two deeply reimagined works. On “Actual Proof,” they replace electric dazzle with a warm, vocal-forward architecture. And “I Thought It Was You,” drawn from the blissful synth universe of Sunlight, becomes a soft, floating groove. Jamile laughs, “We’re obsessed with Sunlight. It’s pure joy — and we wanted to bring that joy into an acoustic world.”

Wayne Shorter — their shared north star — is honored through “Endangered Species” and “Someplace Called Where.” Jamile first sang the latter with Gomes during his Dizzy’s Club residency, and it cemented their artistic connection. “We felt completely aligned with its message,” she says. “It’s profound, beautiful, cosmic.”

Their choice of a Johnny Alf ballad is both musical and cultural — part of a broader, ongoing effort among Brazilian artists to reaffirm his place in the canon. Alf’s harmonic innovations shaped the DNA of bossa nova, yet he was marginalized as a Black, gay pioneer. “We wanted to give him his flowers,” Jamile says. “His music deserves to be in the story — front and center.”

The American pop continuum enters via Stevie Wonder’s “Where Were You When I Needed You,” a cathartic moment from the heart of “Superwoman.” Jamile connects deeply with its directness: “Everyone has asked that question. And Stevie always takes melodies and harmony to places that surprise us — but also feel essential.”

There are no drums on the album — by design. “There’s nowhere to hide,” Jamile explains. “Every part has to mean something — every breath, every note.” Instead, voice, guitar, and bass intertwine with mutual responsibility: orchestration, propulsion, and melody distributed equally.
Boundless Species refuses to treat jazz and Brazilian music as separate languages. It asserts their shared ancestry — harmonic daring, rhythmic intelligence, emotional storytelling — as a single, borderless tradition. Through every choice, the trio makes the case that complex music can still be sung; that virtuosity does not need volume; and that innovation often sounds like vulnerability.

Gomes sums it up simply: “We all have voices. That’s the most direct connection there is.”