Sēju vēju (meaning “tie the wind” or “sow the wind”) begins forcefully, like the wind, and with a strong and energetic beat that continues through the first several songs. Thankfully, it doesn’t last. To be honest, I soon found the heavy drumming tiring, and much enjoyed the change to a few calmer songs about half way through the recording.

For example, “Es ar meitu dancot gāju” has the familiar, soothing strum of the kokle (the national instrument of Latvia and much of northeastern Europe). “Pūti, pūti, vēja māte” is also a treat: an a capella performance by Ilga Reizniece. But, it’s too bad “Pūti, pūti” is so very short and immediately followed by that familiar driving beat again. Luckily, the next song, “Uz Daugavas es dzīvoju”, is a wonderful men’s ballad with a guitar accompaniment—another treat that just makes you melt.

The members of the group have changed once again, but the signature of the Iļģi sound—Reizniece’s distinctive voice—remains. One also hears the men’s voices quite a bit and, even though they sometimes overdo the “macho” element, they are a welcome addition. The bass guitar and drums are more prominent on Sēju vēju than on previous recordings, but Ilgi still rely on a variety of traditional instruments. Folk music conservatives may not like the “Indian yell,” as one folk music authority called it, that starts off the compact disc, nor the other whoops, yells and trills. They are not what one would consider reserved, northern or Latvian sounds.

The texts of the songs are all Latvian dainas, which are ancient verses passed down orally over hundreds, even thousands of years. Even though dainas are usually about agrarian life, they are timeless, and have obviously adapted very well to modern music, as one can hear on Sēju vēju. There is a motif of strength, energy and activity to the lyrics: they are about the wind, the ocean, young men, horses, searches for brides—all very fitting lyrics for the abundance of men’s voices that one hears on this recording, the powerful upbeat music, and, as the liner notes hint, the pace of modern life in general. The translations on the whole are good, though I found some to be lacking in detail or depth of explanation, as is usual in all translations.

Iļģi used to be considered a traditional folklore group, but they have come a long way from their original sound. This CD is definitely not for those with a narrow view of what Latvian folk music is. In fact, I wouldn’t really consider this folk music. It’s “world music” that really rocks. Sure, the traditional influence in the texts and melodies is very strong. But this is definitely rocky, with a touch of the bagpipes and a reminder of a barn dance here and there. I’ll even admit that the first couple of times around the CD was a bit too heavy for me.

But…I do support what Iļģi are doing. I really like and appreciate this experimenting, mixing of, and playing with traditional and modern musics. On a recording from 1993 Iļģi eloquently called it a “conversation between ourselves, in the presence of others who lived and sang here hundreds and thousands of years ago;” “the manifestation of creativity stimulated by traditional music,” and “the evolution, rather than the destruction, of the folk song.” The Celts have been doing this sort of thing for years, the Scandinavians are now into it, and, with such a rich traditional culture from which to take inspiration, it’s about time for the Latvians to pick up on it, too. Iļģi were ahead of their time and began their self-defined “post-folklore” many years ago, and with each new recording they seem to go a bit further.

If you don’t mind the heavy beat, Sēju vēju is another fine album from by far the best known world music group in Latvia. It has some really great songs—“Seši jauni bandenieki,” “Aiz upītes meitas dzied,” “Seši mozi bundzenīki,” and (my favorite) “Uz Daugavas es dzīvoju.” All in all, this CD is very catchy, and it’s beginning to grow on me! I’m finding myself humming melodies from it all day long. But, I will stress that it’s not for folklore purists.

(Editor’s note: This article originally appeared on SVEIKS.com.)

This is the third recording in the Latvian Folk Music Collection by UPE Recording Co., and, like the first two (Pagānu gadagrāmata and Latviešu danči), is a very nice one indeed. Biruta Ozoliņa sings songs of her native Latgale (the eastern part of Latvia), accompanied by the kokle, which is a stringed folk instrument similar to a zither, played throughout the eastern Baltic region.

This recording is very traditional compared to the first in the series, Pagānu gadagrāmata, except for a couple of modern-sounding chords here and there.

Ozoliņa is best known as a former member of the folk group Iļģi, and in this group her high, light voice nicely complemented Ilga Reizniece’s distinctive lower and fuller voice. Alone on this recording, though, something almost seems to be missing. The liner notes say that Ozoliņa no longer performs, but now only sings alone and for herself. If you sing for yourself, you will, of course, sing the songs that you like. There’s no question about what type of songs Ozoliņa likes! They are all calm and gentle, with beautiful melodies. Bolta eimu is a very contemplative recording. It is not a performance, but rather a meditation. Some more critical ears might even call it background music.

Because the songs’ lyrics (all except one, “Zvīdzi zvīdzi sērmais zirdzeņ”) are from a young woman’s point of view—dealing with various aspects of courtship and marriage—they fit nicely with Ozoliņa’s voice. Her voice is amazingly clean, clear, light, simple and almost fragile. The songs are also very simple, and in this simplicity, I believe, is all the beauty of Latvian folk music.

All of the songs are in the Latgalian dialect, which might take some getting used to if you speak Latvian. Latvian speakers who have little experience with it may find some of the words hard to understand. For those who don’t speak Latvian, the one-line English translations in the liner notes may make the songs sound overly simple or trivial. Unfortunately, this is all too common a problem in translating folk songs in general. As a result, the translations cannot convey the complexities and poetry of the traditional texts—the cultural context, symbolism, mythological parallels, and deeper meanings of many texts are lost.

My husband’s only comment about this compact disc was that it all sounded the same. He says that about most of my folk recordings, but for once I had to agree with him. Maybe what’s missing is variety. All of the tracks sound very similar. One song, “Zyna Dīvs, zyna Laima,” is sung a capella, but in my opinion there could have been more, since Ozoliņa’s voice stands well enough on its own. In another song she uses a considerably lower tone, which is also a nice change. The four tracks recorded in 1998-99 (“Jau sauleite aizalaide,” “Apleik kolne saule tak,” “Treis mōzeņas mežā gōja,” and “Muns bōleņš karā gōja,” with the rest from 1987-92) have a slightly different sound to them, but not enough to be called “variety.”

My own taste in Latvian folk songs leans toward the calmer, more melancholic melodies, and there are plenty on this recording. (In Latvian music, a minor key does not necessarily indicate a sad song. This seems to be common in Eastern European folk music.) I don’t mind a whole recording of the same type of music—especially because I like it—but I know people who will complain.

Some might find the lack of variety in Bolta eimu boring, but for connoisseurs of the calm, melancholic melodies and Latgalian dialect this is a wonderful recording. As for me, it is a treat to have a whole CD devoted to Ozoliņa and “her” type of songs.