Permission To Tamper?
A newly remixed and remastered version of Elis Regina’s 1973 LP Elis gets the raised eyebrow…


The bright red sticker on the record says “Novamixagem” – New Mix – and “Novamasterizacao” – New Mastering.
Pretty standard catalog reissue ad copy language.
Except: The record in question is Elis Regina’s dramatic 1973 studio album Elis, and some who were involved in the creation of the work allege that there is more happening than just sonic improvements. They charge that the source recordings have been augmented.
Cesar Camargo Mariano, the pianist, arranger and Regina’s musical director who was integral to her creativity on stage and in the studio (and was her husband at the time), took to social media to express his dismay after the upgraded title was released in March.
“...I listened to (the edition) with sadness,” Mariano wrote of the 2026 Elis, which was authorized by Regina’s estate and masterminded by her oldest son, João Marcello Bôscoli, and engineer Ricardo Camera. “Sadness at hearing all the work of months spent creating the musical concept, the arrangements and performances, the recording and mixing plans—all studied and very carefully thought out by us—thrown in the trash. These issues, for me, are not subject to changes by third parties.”
Above: A track from the original LP that shows how precise Mariano was about the arrangement of a tune, right down to the way he voices chords at the piano.
Boscoli and the Elis Regina Estate are on firm legal ground; they control the late artist’s discography and can do with it whatever they deem to be appropriate.
Still, as a part of the team that developed the album’s aura of understated tension, Mariano is something more than a bystander. His expertise is foundational to the original document (and, it should be said, remains evident on the new iteration). He knows, probably better than any other living person, what Regina was seeking – a particular approach to storytelling built on dramatic pauses and subtle instrumental tensions.
One of Mariano’s posts breaks down Boscoli’s augmentations to “É com esse que eu vou.” “Nothing justifies the change at the end of the track,” Mariano writes, “where the RMI keyboard track was “dragged” [I take that to mean cut and pasted] and brought forward by 4 bars (!).” He goes on to explain that the sparse orchestrations he and Elis created for the final portion of the song were intentional. “That space I left in suspense in the arrangement had a strong meaning.”
Mariano concludes his lament about “É com esse que eu vou” this way: “Besides the new arrangement and timbre of the instruments taking away all the groove and intentional swing, it’s now completely out of sync.”
Let’s go to the tape(s)!
Here’s the original mix:
And here’s the New 2026 Mix:
Does this set of slight alterations accrue to a net positive for the song – i.e., does it enhance a performance that’s been revered as definitive for 53 years? Or is this a case of ownership privilege? Share your thoughts in the comments!
Boscoli has undisputed permission to tamper with his late mother’s catalog. But: Does that right come with any corresponding obligation to the artistic process and its endless nuances? Does that right also allow the owner to ignore (or, worse, overrule) the input of the musicians and arrangers who actually shaped the music?
This and similar kerfuffles indicate a sensibility shift that’s underway. It’s about ownership, of course, and also the malleability of the building blocks of music. (Those building blocks are being abused daily by your friendly AI bots!) It’s also about respect, whether it’s OK for rightsholders to smudge or trample decisions about art that were made in a long-ago moment of creation. At present, the people who made those decisions, whose contributions frequently extend beyond what’s noted in the credits, do not have a say in the “new and improved” reissues. They are marginalized. Not even part of the discussion.
In coverage of this story in Brazilian media, journalists have taken a position of tolerance: It’s fine for the new mix to exist, just as long as it is identified as a new take. And with the crucial proviso that the original remains available — with indications on the packaging (as well as the pages of streaming platforms) — to clearly distinguish the releases.
Which brings us back to that sticker. It just says New Mix, New Mastering. It doesn’t say anything about the presence of Newly Added Musical Elements. Nothing on the cover – or on the pages of streaming platforms where the album is listed – helps a curious listener tell the 1973 version from the 2026 version. Except for that sticker on the shrinkwrap, which is trashbin-bound anyway.
That’s deceptive! It arguably does disservice to Regina’s legacy, as well as to Mariano and to all those who contributed to the album. Universal should update the packaging immediately.
As the noted Stoic Marcus Aurelius said: “If it is not right, do not do it; if it is not true, do not say it.”



