A cappella music, although often awe-inspiring for listeners because of the vocal talent of the singers, can at times be undermined by the excessive falsetto and slightly overwrought style of singing. Surprisingly enough, Latvian Voices’ latest album Tā kā taka can easily become a favorite.

A number of Latvian groups in the a cappella (vocal music without instrumental accompaniment) genre have risen to prominence over the past years in Latvia. Perhaps the best known is male ensemble Cosmos, who achieved great success and fame with their arrangements of songs, both Latvian and international, as well as their original works. With the success of Cosmos, it is perhaps no surprise that other a cappella ensembles have popped up. Though the achievements of these groups have not quite matched those of Cosmos, there is one fairly new ensemble that might very well have the chance to do so – female group Latvian Voices.

As their name seems to indicate, from their inception Latvian Voices are intent on succeeding on the world stage. Their first album, Waving World Wide, released in 2010, focused more on an international repertoire (with both sacred and traditional songs), and their second album, Seventh Heaven, released the same year, was a Christmas-themed album, featuring songs in English and German, among other languages. However, for their third album, Tā kā taka, released in 2011, they have recorded in their native language featuring both arrangements of Latvian folk songs as well as new compositions.

The group is made up of seven female Latvian singers – Elīna Šmukste, Nora Vītiņa, Zane Stafecka, Andra Blumberga, Laura Leontjeva, Laura Jēkabsone, and Karīna Kaminska.

Though they have waited until their third album to focus on their Latvian repertoire, it is this repertoire that makes this album exceptional – being Latvian themselves, and native Latvian speakers, not to mention knowledgeable about Latvian culture and songs makes for this material being closer to the singers than their other material has been. These songs have an energy and vitality that starts with the first song – “Ar dziesmiņu ciemos eju” (lyrics by Ojārs Vāczemnieks, arranged by Laura Jēkabsone), a lively song that is, rather appropriately, about singing itself. The harmonies and interplay between the various singers makes this a particularly enjoyable arrangement.

Among the Latvian folksongs they perform include “Es gulu, gulu” (arranged by Nora Vītiņa), one of the sadder Latvian folksongs about a girl who sees her beloved ride away in a dream, “Rūtoj’ saule” (arranged by Vītiņa), a song once again about singing, as two sisters who have not seen each other in years still sing to each other from their respective farms. A favorite is their charming and playful performance of the song “Zvejnieks mani aicināja” (arranged by Jēkabsone), a song about a girl who meets a fisherman who invites her onto his boat, but the girl demurs, considering the boat (and the fisherman himself) to be a bit shabby.

The highlights of the album are the original songs – particularly title track “Tā kā taka” (lyrics/music by Vītiņa) as well as “Lietus” (lyrics/music by Jēkabsone), as the singers through their interplay conjure rain in this romantic song.

Spanish beatbox (percussive sounds made by voice) artist Lytos joins the group in “Kuito” (words/music by Jēkabsone), a performance that was inspired by the Cosmos song “Vindo”. Lytos’ percussive elements add a new dimension to this song which is, if I’m not mistaken, in a made-up language (much like “Vindo” was). The exceptionally realistic drumbeats that Lytos conjures up give the song a dynamic rhythmic foundation.

The CD booklet is quite detailed, containing a number of photographs with brief write-ups on each of the singers, some commentary on each of the songs presented, as well as a history of the group, with all text appearing in Latvian, German, and English.

Tā kā taka was an enjoyable surprise – their interpretations of these Latvian songs are both engaging and memorable. The group seems destined for wider success – at the time of this writing they had just won at an a cappella competition in Leipzig. Though the group performs frequently, it is telling that so far in 2012 they have only performed in Latvia twice – the rest of their performances have been at festivals and competitions all over Europe. This collection of both ancient Latvian folksongs, as well as new songs, is a truly enchanting work.

The venerable American Latvian ensemble Čikāgas piecīši, now in their sixth decade of activity, have re-released their final (to date) studio albums – Gandrīz mājās (1991) and Vai Debesīs būs Latvija (1995), released in 2011 as one CD.

Though continuing to tour well into the future (their farewell tour of Latvia was in 2011), these records are the last of their new output. With the release of these albums, all of their albums – from their 1960s records onwards – are now available on CD, and these re-releases continue to confirm what a truly remarkable, and varied, career this group has had.

As always, the Piecīši foundation has been Alberts Legzdiņš, who has guided the band and provided the bulk of songs since the group’s founding in 1961. Joining Legzdiņš are long time Piecīši members and collaborators such as Armands Birkens, Janīna Ankipāne, Uldis Ievāns, Uldis Streips, Lorija Vuda (Laurie Wood) and Alnis Cers, as well as a whole host of session and studio musicians.

The 1990s, with the reestablishment of Latvia’s independence, sees the Piecīši continuing to move away from the often biting satire of their earlier years, though by no means missing the humor that has always been a part of their appeal. The songs have become more sentimental, more reflective, and, particularly on Vai Debesīs būs Latvija reacting to the difficult times that followed the euphoria of Latvian independence, as many became disenchanted with the severe corruption and the direction Latvia was heading in those years, making these records somewhat more serious and weightier than those in the past.

It is telling that few of the songs on these records achieved the near-legendary status of earlier songs such as “Pazudušais dēls”, “Par mani, draudziņ’, nebēdā”, “Mūsu mīlestība” or even “Man garšo alus”. Particularly in Latvia, where Piecīši recordings had to be snuck in during Soviet times, the songs of the 60s to 80s resonated in Latvian society and helped keep alive the dream of Latvian independence. However, these final recordings do contain a number of gems and, if these truly are the last new recordings that the Piecīši will make (looking more and more likely with each year), then it is a fitting close to their studio career.

To be honest, this was my first encounter with the album Gandrīz mājās. The song “To skaidro ūden’ nejauciet” was familiar: a song from their 1989 Mežaparks concert performance, calling for the cleanup and rejuvenation of Latvia’s nature. The studio version of the song is still as topical today, with the excessive deforestation still occurring in Latvia today.

Also a treat on Gandrīz mājās are two more songs with lyrics by poet Valdis Krāslavietis – the lovely “Krāslava” and “Dziesma vasarai”. The group’s renowned humor can also be found in “Mister, Kurzemniek!”, a tropical song about the Kurland colony in Tobago, as well as “Latvietis latvietim”, a song about Latvians, who, though very small in number, continue to be at each other’s throats most of the time.

Though some may enjoy the involvement of children in both the concerts and the recordings of the Piecīši, as it may have some amount of charm, the results are not always successful. Case in point – “Mazais letiņš” – where the kids involved unfortunately sing off-key for most of the song.

Vai Debesīs būs Latvija – their final studio album – sees the songs become more reflective and sentimental (on this album, all songs and texts are by Legzdiņš). The hardships in Latvia during the mid 1990s are reflected in songs like “1989. gads”, where the positive energy generated by their first Latvian tour in 1989 has dissipated slightly, and the realities brought about by restored independence lead to questions such as “vai jāmaksā par brīvību tik daudz?” (must we pay so much for freedom?)

The plight of the Latvian nation and its low birthrate, a topic for songs throughout their career – such as “Tautas skaitīšana” and even “Sekss ir labs” continues to inspire songs like “Nāc, laimīte”. Particularly poignant is “Brālis un māsa”, a lengthy song about a Latvian family whose son’s and daughter’s lives head in dramatic directions, and their parents’ reactions. Memorable also is the tender gem “No Gaujas tilta”, featuring Armands Birkens’ renowned tender tenor voice.

On this one CD you get an impressive 26 songs, though, with the Piecīši staying mostly in their familiar three or four chord progressions, some of the songs do start to blend in with each other. However, simplicity has always been a key to the success of the group, so one cannot fault them for sticking with what they know. Other listeners may miss the sharper wit that their earlier recordings displayed.

As with the other Piecīši releases by Balss, the packaging remains pretty meager. No lyrics or any kinds of notes from the band, though there are a number of black and white photographs.

These final recordings provide a fitting epilogue to the studio recording career of the Čikāgas piecīši. Though perhaps these records have been unfairly underrated, compared to the “hits” of their previous decades, a number of songs still touch the heart and make the listener smile, and rare is the band that keeps that kind of listener interest over multiple decades. Though we are likely not to hear any new music from the band (though, granted, Legzdiņš himself remains an active songwriter – particularly notable is the 2004 musical “Eslingena”) these are worthy entries in the band’s discography.