Alex Cutler has immersed himself in the culture of Brazilian funk. Douglas Engle for The New York Times

NOVA IGUACU, Brazil - The train to this city on Rio de Janeiro's edge carries passengers from the urban underclass chasing dreams big and small: teenagers trying out for a soccer club, a maid studying to be a nurse.

Then there is the 30-year-old American, equipped with a Master of Business Administration degree and a fluency in Portuguese that one acquires only in Rio's favelas, or slums.

"That's Don Blanquito," said Claudia de Oliveira, 21, a commuter who smiled in admiration of the American. "He's the most courageous gringo in all of Rio."

It is not every day that an American gains household-name status in Rio's gritty periphery, much less with a nickname that translates roughly as "Sir Whiteboy." It is even rarer that he does so as a singer and a composer of Brazilian funk, a musical genre that emerged in the favelas.

But Don Blanquito, whose real name is Alex Cutler, is not just any American. "I know it must seem insane to find a white guy from California in this scene," said Mr. Cutler. "I could've gone to Wall Street, eating at Nobu every night. But the funk world is where I found myself."

Brazilian funk is American hip-hop's rapid-fire cousin, influenced by the Miami Bass style and blending in elements of local rap, samba and techno.

The result, with lyrics that often celebrate the sensuality of Rio's women and the exploits of its drug lords, is not for the faint of heart. Samples of machine-gun fire are blended into prerecorded beats, and some funk shows have turned into riotous bacchanals.

The most explicitly violent songs are illegal, putting them in a league with other Latin American outlaw musical genres like Colombia's "prohibited ballads," which celebrate guerrillas and paramilitary warlords.

Mr. Cutler's Portuguese flows with roguish street terminology and self-deprecating wisecracks.

He performs in the gritty city of Nova Iguacu and other rough parts of the Baixada Fluminense, the patchwork of poor districts on Rio's periphery.

Mr. Cutler clawed his way into the funk world from the ground level, after earlier efforts rapping in Spanish in the United States and then the Dominican Republic. He said he was drawn to rap, and later to funk, by the sense of incomparable adventure these genres offered compared with working in an office.

Some of his appeal is the novelty of his being an American where few foreigners go. Some fans like the way he glorifies appetites for Brazil's sensual pursuits. He specializes in what he calls "funk light," emphasizing racy lyrics but eschewing violence.

He acknowledges that his performing days may be numbered, despite the new opportunities for purveyors of "funk light."

Maybe it has something to do with the realization that fame is fleeting. Maybe it involves turning 30 in a young man's world. And maybe it is because, despite his celebrity, making ends meet as a funk singer is not easy.

He has already diversified, taking a day job selling event equipment for a multinational.

But his heart remains in the slums where funk was born.

Now Mr. Cutlerbut he is buying a house in the Tabajaras favela. "I'm staying in the favela," he said. "I don't know if I'll sing funk forever, but I know what it's like to do music that trembles your soul."

The New York Times

(China Daily 01/15/2012 page12)