The great Brazilian band, Os Mutantes (the Mutants), created a psychedelic swirl of a sound, drawing freely on bits and pieces of the Beatles, Country Joe & the Fish, the Fifth Dimension, samba, Tropicalia and whatever else was on the radio, in the air or in the hookah in the halcyon days of 1968. Led by the lovely and pixilated Rita Lee Jones and fueled by the wonderfully warped magpie instincts of brothers Arnaldo and Sergio Baptista, Os Mutantes were a cargo cult, crafting a fully formed universe from the shards and splinters of pop music that washed up in their backyard. For better or worse, usually for better, they were equal-opportunity thieves, as likely to rescue a great hook or bass line from a Herman's Hermits'45 as they were to pilfer a riff from Santana or Hendrix. And in the process they created a mind-bendingly original sound that is both timeless and driven by the '60s ideal of possibilities, resources, time and love all being boundless and never-ending.