In recent years, the band Ão has established themselves in Belgium and Europe with their enchanting blend of electronica, art pop, saudade, and alternative Latin. The quartet has developed a boundary-pushing, unique sound that defies any genre label. Their diverse backgrounds and influences flow effortlessly together into a hybrid sound, much like Stromae, Rosalía, or C. Tangana did before them.

Frontwoman Brenda Corijn, who draws from her Mozambican-Portuguese roots, sings in both Portuguese and English. Her warm voice merges with Siebe Chau's southern guitar playing, layered electronics from Jolan Decaestecker's and Bert Peyffers' eclectic percussion work.
In 2023, the quartet debuted with the widely acclaimed album Ao Mar. It earned them glowing reviews, a MIA nomination, and extensive airplay. Live, they built an impressive track record with tours at home and abroad.

Their second album Malandra is a fiery and captivating follow-up; even more layered, rhythmic, tender, and harder. The songs move between embrace and threat. The sound is more expansive, sensual, playful, and raw, the breath deeper, and the rhythm more urgent.
The title - the Portuguese word malandra - resists easy translation. Its meaning is ambiguous, just like the record itself. A malandra is a woman who moves through life with humor, intelligence, and charm, always following her desires and bending the rules to her will. Besides being playful and free, she is also cunning, deceptive, and manipulative, but always true to herself.

Every track on the record takes on a face: a character who plays the lead role in the artwork and music videos. The album is made up of thirteen songs that have taken shape as personas over the years and travelled with the band. There's Orgulho, full of pride and melancholy. The rousing doubt in Talvez. Cinza, which critically depicts suffering in a landscape of ash. Or Cada Vez, which runs away on fickle milonga steps. The sleepless, ecstatic beats of Aren't You Tired and faithful Volta, which patiently asks you to return. The album opens with the "drums of judgment" of Me Condena, in which the malandra puts herself on trial: "Condemn me" she says, inviting the listener to condemn her as she does herself throughout the album.
Malandra came to life on the road - between tours, between countries, and between versions of themselves. The creative process with Ão is never linear; songs emerged from forgotten chords, hidden jams, fragments of text, accidents, iPhone footage... They keep hungrily searching for new sounds, resulting in rich production and the use of new instruments such as charango, bandoneon, tiple, horns, synths, and cuica. The foundation remains serendipity and emotional impact, and just like the malandra, the band stays true to itself. With their new album they've created an ode to complexity, multiformity, and searching in all its forms. A dedication to shame and shine, chaos and calm, love and escapism.

Live, Ão delivers a captivating and electrifying experience that enchants audiences across Europe. Their dynamic sound - ranging from fragile, intimate melodies to danceable beats - immerses you in a mesmerizing world of percussion, electronics, and intricate guitar playing pierced by Corijn's glowing voice. You never know where anything comes from. This unique atmosphere takes them to a wide range of festivals and clubs: from electronic and rock stages to pop, folk, and jazz festivals.

In 2026, Ão will present their new album on an international tour stopping in Italy, Germany, Austria, Luxembourg, Switzerland, France, and the Netherlands, among others. At home, in Belgium, they'll perform at Ancienne Belgique.

Ão is pronounced like meow without the me, [ɐ͂w̃] for the phoneticians. It means nothing and everything at once: something beautiful [aaw], something sad or painful [oww], a feeling of wonder [auuw]. But in this bio, it mainly means [something you've never heard before].