Bebel Gilberto talks with her hands. Perhaps it’s because her voice cannot contain the excitement she feels when discussing music. It seems ironic, simply because that instrument says so much to the millions of people that bought her first two recordings, Tanto Tempo and Bebel Gilberto. With her latest, Momento (Six Degrees), the woman whose name has become synonymous with Brazilian music itself, returns with the sultry, breathy syllables we long to hear.

Some artist’s personal mythology bespeaks their presence. Such is the case with Gilberto, who comes from royal lineage. Her father, João, helped create the bossa nova form, and her mother, Miucha, was considered one of her country’s top singers. On stage she is fiery and focused, and yet as she opened the door to her East Village apartment, she proved sweet and cordial. As we sat down she asked as many questions as I put forth to her. There’s something in her charm, her personable character, that’s as appealing as the music she creates.

This closeness is what drives fans to record stores and download sites. When Bebel sings, she’s singing your story – she knows the pain in your heart, the longings, hopes, desires and dreams. Most importantly, whatever your condition, she’s there for you. In many ways this is the focus of her latest outing, which translates as “in the moment.”

“I’m forever living in the future, as it’s my favorite place to be,” she says, nursing the Starbucks in her hands. “But there has to be a time when you say let’s take care of this moment here. Live the moment and enjoy the moment completely. That’s what I’m doing.”

True to her word, Bebel has always been up to date. Since releasing a mediocre Brazilian jazz record in 1991 titled De Tarde, Vendo O Mar, she began honing her craft in earnest. She cut a dance track called “Technova” for Deee-Lite DJ Towa Tei, and when Tanto Tempo made her name household, she commissioned remixes of the entire album – a trend which has continued with Momento. Having learned to respect and understand the electronic realm thanks to the late producer Suba, and later Thievery Corporation, she exists comfortably in many domains.

Besides creating soft and durable music, Gilberto has opened an important floodgate for numerous musicians to step through. She has befriended numerous acts growing from East Village club Nublu, owned by Turkish musician Ilhan Ersahin. She’s recently appeared on albums by the Nublu Orchestra and Forro in the Dark, and works regularly with members of the Brazilian Girls. Her ex-keyboardist, Didi Gutman, co-founded the Girls and produced much of Momento, while vocalist Sabina Sciubba joins her on “Os Novos Yorkinos,” a tribute to New York City.

“[That song] was more Sabina’s idea. We were jamming and wanted to write a song together. She wrote the first part of the lyrics. Novos Yorkinos is a joke with this band Novos Baianos. They came out in the ‘70s, right after Tropicalia. They were the craziest people I ever saw in my life. They totally took over the music business in Brazil. They were crazy about my father, and my father was crazy about them. They would hang out at our place, with lots of guitars and lots of pot, like a little community. Novos Baianos named an album with a phrase that I made up, so I recorded this song as a tribute to them.”

An acoustic guitar-led track with a light, floating drum rhythm, her hometown tribute relies on a patently Gilberto trademark: the hook. Her songs remain in your head long after they end, regardless if in English or Portuguese. The softer side of Bebel, such as on the gorgeous “Azul” and heartbreakingly hopeful “Close to You,” not to mention the saxophone backdrop of “Night and Day,” invite you inside, to sit down, relax and contemplate. Or, more precisely, to feel.

The upbeat tracks are equally easy to slide into, with the presence of ambient elements indicative of the Brazilian spirit. The pan-Caribbean textures of “Tranquilo,” featuring Orquestra Imperial, and the oft-remixed single “Bring Back the Love” move quicker to the hips than heart. The guitar-drum interplay on “Cacada,” possibly the album’s most hyper number, is mixed beautifully. Listening to Momento is a complete body experience.

“I took so many risks, more than on other records, so I also take responsibility,” she says. “For the first time, I co-produced most of the tracks. I let myself go into the possibility of not being perfect. Instead of being frustrated because I could not have the exact conditions that I wanted, I worked with what I did have.”

For Gilberto, to follow the success of her previous albums is no easy task. They became staples in coffee shops and lounges globally, and introduced audiences to the next phase of Brazilian music. Younger artists like Cibelle, CéU and Tita Lima can all thank Bebel for paving a road into international territories. Momento is gorgeous in each of its poetic curves, in its lyrical and musical simplicity. It takes a great artist to make something so easy on the ears and beloved in the heart. Gilberto credits the wide range of hands that helped tweak the masters as much as her own input.

“I worked with so many people this time, and I think you can hear that. There are little subtleties in there, throughout. You can master and re-master, but I was flying around constantly, and had so many people with access to these files. In the end, I liked that. I wanted to be truthful. I wanted to get away from the perfectionist and purist attitude I had in the past.”

We both laugh when I ask her what artists are inspiring her. “It’s funny, because singers don’t like singers,” was her initial reply, with a smile. That story didn’t hold completely true, though, as she replays her love for the excellent Marisa Monte, as well as country mates Alexandre Kassin, Moreno Veloso, Otto and Marcelo D2. She becomes especially wide-eyed while discussing Charlotte Gainsbourg, the daughter of the inimitable prankster of French poetry and chanson, Serge.

As our talk winded down, as the coffee left caffeinated expressions in her tone and hands, we conclude by talking about her creative process. This is, to most artists, the crux of their passion: what makes them do what they do, and how they get into the frame of mind to do it. While Gilberto tells me she “can have an idea at any time,” there are certain situations – certain moments, you might say – that really stick out. She had one such story for the album’s closer, a luxurious and patient ballad entitled “Words.”

“One day Didi and Sabina were here, and I had just finished the words for ‘Words.’ I put the paper here [points to dining room table]. Later on, Sabina put the papers in her bag and left, not realizing she took those lyrics. The next day I was looking for the paper and it was gone. I looked where I put most things, which I call “the mouth of the frog” [points to record player]. I thought it was inside of the frog’s mouth. I had to go to record that song, and the lyrics were gone.

“One month later we go to a U2 show, and Sabina comes up to me and pulls out the paper, telling me she forgot to give it to me. Well of course I had rewrote the lyrics by that point. When I compared the copies, against the one I had to rewrite at 5 p.m. – nervous, no coffee, no joint – they were the same song. I couldn’t believe that I had written the same lyrics almost word for word.”