In the discography of Latvian music, one of the most glaring omissions has been the availability in digital format of American group Trīs no Pārdaugavas’ albums.

With only Circeņu kāzās—the trio’s album of songs for children—available on compact disc, it seemed as though the rest of Trīs no Pārdaugavas’ classic albums would never make it onto the digital medium. Finally, nearly two decades after the trio’s final recordings, the complete catalogue has been released on an expansive three-CD set entitled Reiz dziedāja. Having these songs on CD, rather than old scratchy and banged up vinyl records, was worth the wait.

Trīs no Pārdaugavas—made up of New Jersey area singers and guitarists Felkiss “Liksis” Ērmanis, his son Mārtiņš Ērmanis, and Vilnis Baumanis—began its work in the late 1960s. Actively performing and recording up until the early 1990s, the trio released a total of six albums and two compilations that included new songs. Mārtiņš Ērmanis died in 2000 and Felikss Ērmanis in 2004.

Reiz dziedāja gathers the albums Trīs no Pārdaugavas, Zilā jūriņā, Dienu virpulī, Mīkstās mēbelēs and No tālām robežām, as well as the new songs released on the compilations Tēvzemei and Ar rozi un ar prievīti.

The collection is a testament to Trīs no Pārdaugavas’ talent, as well as the trio’s significance in the Latvian-American community. Along with the Čikāgas piecīši, Trīs no Pārdaugavas was one of the most visible, active and beloved Latvian-American groups. The trio even gave a concert in Rīga’s Mežaparks, attracting tens of thousands of listeners.

Why was the trio so beloved? I suppose the reasons include the band’s singing and harmonies (particularly Fēlikss’ resonating voice), Baumanis’ arrangements, and the original songs (with lyrics by Baumanis) that often were about Latvian life in the United States. Or, perhaps, they were just three regular guys who came together and brightened the lives of many listeners. The music certainly is not flashy, nor does it need to be. With just three voices and three guitars (and the occasional bass guitar, percussion and piano), they were able to produce many memorable songs and melodies.

One can trace the evolution of the ensemble through this collection. The trio’s first album, the self-titled Trīs no Pārdaugavas, has a more traditional feel to it in that many of the songs were old Latvian standards, such as “Lulu,” “Lakstīgalu naktī” and “Vēstule no tāluma.” There is also a heartbreaking rendition of the Latvian folk song “Jūras māte,” where the harmonies and the transition from major to minor give the song a particularly emotional feeling.

The influence of American culture was inescapable and can be heard on the trio’s recordings. Witness the songs from Zilā jūriņā, many of which feature an almost hippie influence to them, such as the Baumanis original “Mēs gribām rokās sadoties.” There is also the melancholy “Tauta tālumā,” another Baumanis original that laments the seemingly sad fate that awaits the Latvian people, both abroad and in Latvia—at that time still well under the thumb of the Soviet government.

I like that Trīs no Pārdaugavas did not take the easy route and play well-known Latvian standards. For example, you won’t find such tired songs as “Pie dzintara jūras” or “Še kur līgo priežu meži.” Instead, the trio performed long-forgotten classics such as “Labāk glāzes pilnas liesim,” originally by the pre-World War II Latvian group Brāļi Laivinieki, as well as the tender gem “Klusi klusi ratiņš rūc.” I also like the trio’s arrangements of other songs, to the point where I think the group’s versions are superior. A personal favorite is Trīs no Pārdaugavas’ version of Raimonds Pauls’ “Kamola tinēja,” originally performed by Imants Skrastiņs in a half-sung, half-spoken manner, but now transformed into a beautifully tender song.

During the 1980s, with Baumanis at full strength as a songwriter, the trio recorded a number of classics, such as “Ratiņš” and “Kaimiņš”.

The group’s recording career closed in the early 1990s, with Latvian independence almost in reach.  Songs again reflected the era—including “Šņāc un krāc,” “Pārkārtošanās” and “Latvijā – 1990,” which is about the trio’s experiences performing in Latvia in 1990.

The three CDs gather an impressive total of 70 songs. Included is a very informative booklet that has all the lyrics and also notes by Baumanis on many of the songs. Besides defining some of the Latvian-American jargon used in some of the songs—such as vīkends for weekend, pārtija for party, and kvadrātpieres for squareheads—Baumanis also clarifies some of the lyrics that may not make immediate sense to some listeners. For example, the song “Latvieši kopš seniem laikiem” mentions two Greeks, one of whom stole away with Jacqueline (a reference to shipping tycoon Aristotle Onassis) and another who drinks wine in the White House (a reference to disgraced former U.S. Vice President Spiro Agnew). If I were to find any fault with this collection, it would be that it would have been great to have even more notes from Baumanis on these songs. That would have made for some very fascinating reading.

Even though the trio played its last shows and recorded its last songs at the beginning of the 1990s, and even though two of the three members of the band are no longer with us, the group and its achievements are by no means forgotten. These timeless songs formed a significant part of the fabric of diaspora Latvian life. We are fortunate that Trīs no Pārdaugavas even existed, let alone performed and recorded. This is absolutely essential listening.

An up-and-coming band on the Latvian rock scene is S.I.L.S., which released its debut album, Stāsti patiesi un izdomāti, in 2008. The group was founded way back in 1999 and has had songs included on various Priekšnams alternative music collections, as well as performing at several of the Bildes festival concerts in Rīga.

The album’s distributor, Platforma Records, describes the band as “post grunge.” Although this is a vague label for music, it usually involves taking the distorted and fuzzy guitar of grunge music, as well as the often angst-filled lyrics, and adding more melodic elements. On its Web site, the band’s music is described as always having been “about pain, love and unfulfilled dreams.”

The name of S.I.L.S., though seeming to be an acronym, is cryptically described on the Web site as being related to viewing the approach of evening through a window in the Ķengarags region of Rīga.

The members of the band are Ģirts Strumpmanis on vocals and guitar, Kaspars Lastovskis on bass and Māris Ozoliņš on drums, with guest appearances by Ronalds Seleckis on guitar. Almost all of the music is written by Strumpmanis, and Strumpmanis and Seleckis wrote most of the lyrics.

The album begins with “Izpratne par skaistumu,” which alternates between melodic verses, with a cleaner guitar sound, and a more distorted chorus. I think the band is more effective when it focuses more on the melodic aspects in its song writing, such as on “Pavasaris,” which is probably my favourite song on the album. Another favorite is “Beigu dziesma,” another one of the band’s more melodic songs. Four songs on the album are in English: “Morning,” “Carousel,” “Trust” and the final “hidden track,” which on the S.I.L.S. Web site is called “DLS2.”

The music and lyrics are, overall, a bit on the dreary side, certainly bringing forward the angst that is heard in other such bands influenced by the grunge style. The main problem I have with the album is that many of the songs are very similar—particularly the alternation between the clean guitar sound and the distorted guitar sound.

The album was mixed and mastered by Gints Sola of Jauns mēness and Mielavs un pārcēlāji. The album art was provided by Otto Zitmanis, who worked on the cover for Prāta vētra’s latest album, Tur kaut kam ir jābūt.

On its Web site, the group has indicated that with the release of this album, band members will take 2009 off to concentrate on their side projects. Certainly S.I.L.S. has presented an accomplished debut album, exhibiting both musical and lyrical talents. Fans of grunge and post-grunge should take a listen.

For more on S.I.L.S., visit the band’s official Web site, www.grupasils.lv, its MySpace page or its page on the social network draugiem.lv.

One of the most ambitious artistic projects in the dying days of Soviet Latvia was “Viena diena Latvijā” (One Day in Latvia), held on Aug. 31, 1987, and organized by photographers Jānis Krūmiņš, Ints Kalniņš and Gunārs Janaitis. Seventy-four photographers from many different countries were sent out all over Latvia, simply to take pictures of things that were happening on that day.

The project resulted in more than 34,000 negatives—a staggering number. Unfortunately, because of a lack of hard currency, the pictures were never published. For 20 years, the pictures were stored at the Rīga Museum of History and Shipping. Though the pictures did not get published, the event was a milestone, as some of the photographers come from outside of the Soviet-influenced world (from countries such as Finland and West Germany), and even were allowed to photograph in places that normally would be well off limits to foreigners.

To commemorate the 20th anniversary of the event, the project was repeated on Aug. 31, 2007, this time with 55 professional photographers (31 from Latvia and 24 international), as well as 120 guest photographers, and every Latvian was even invited to submit pictures, resulting in half a million images.

Highlights of both days are collected in the coffee table book Viena diena Latvijā. 1987-2007 (One Day in Latvia, 1987-2007), a mammoth collection that gathers just a small fraction of all the photographs taken.

About 25 percent of the book is pictures from 1987, the rest from 2007. Most all of the pictures from 1987 are in black-and-white, while the 2007 collection is mainly in color.

Most of the pictures are candid snapshots of a way of life or of a moment in time. Highlights from the 1987 collection include a picture by Estonian photographer Viktors Rudjko of passengers on a bus in Valka (a border town on the Estonian border), in which we see people reading four different newspapers: a Russian-language paper about Estonia, the Latvian papers Cīņa and Padomju Jaunatne, and Pravda. In a picture by Irina and Viktors Kolpakovs, postal worker Anna Liepiņa of Preiļi seems to be sharing a newspaper with her horse. There are also historically significant photos of a period that seems to be a lifetime away, such as the shot by Vilhems Mihailovskis of a long line of people at a grocery store in Daugavpils. A picture by Leons Balodis shows Krišjāņa Barona Street in Rīga, which in many ways is unrecognizable compared to the street today.

Favorites from the 2007 event include the picture by Varis Sants of Imants Albrehts and Vilma Feldmane, both legless residents at the Rokaiži Social Care Center in Liepāja. Ainārs Šlesers, then the transport minister, appears in a photo by Andris Eglītis with a rather surprised look on his face. Ilmārs Znotiņš photographed the meat inspection room in the Rīga Central Market, with a line of pig snouts awaiting review. A picture by Oļegs Zernovs of the Latgale liberation monument “Latgales Māra” in Rēzekne captures the statue in profile and under a nearly full moon.

These are just a few of the thousands of photographs in this impressive collection. Even more pictures may be viewed on the project’s official Web site, www.vienadiena.lv.

Not all pictures were taken in Latvia. For example, a picture by Oskars Lejnieks shows the Latvian unit located in Afghanistan. Another photo shows rock group Prāta vētra on the road to St. Petersburg.

All photos are captioned in Latvian and in English, and there are statements from the main organizers that are also translated into English.

This hefty book (with a hefty price tag of LVL 49.99) provides a fascinating look through Latvia in the final years of Soviet occupation, as well as almost 20 years after regaining its freedom. The differences in certain ways are striking, but in certain ways many things have not changed at all. The book provides endless hours of browsing. Many of the pictures have a depth to them, relating a detailed story of some kind. It is truly an inspiring project, offering an intriguing travel back in time to 1987 and what Latvia was like then, as well as a kaleidoscope of the varied facets of the country in 2007.