Hot on the heels of their excellent 2000 release Viss mainās…, Latvian rock institution Credo released their album Ceļa zīmes in 2001. With Credo on the comeback trail, Ceļa zīmes—though not a bad album—seems to find the band stuck in neutral, rather than moving forward.

The lineup on Ceļa zīmes is almost the same as on the 2000 album. Aivars Vīksna provides vocals, as well as Guntis Veits. Armands Alksnis is credited with guitar and keyboards. The change on this album is the presence of Gundars Lintiņš on drums.

The theme of the album seems to be "signals," whether by communication or by signs (hence the title of the album: Road Signs). A number of the songs are about communication of some kind.

My favorite song on the album is probably "Tāpat vien," an uptempo number about the most common of rock song topics: women! When meeting someone new, often a guy will be nervous, but if things are meant to happen, then, as the song goes, they will happen "just the same."

Guntars Račs is back to provide a number of the lyrics on the record, particularly for another favorite, "Tur aiz mākoņiem ir saule." This is a slower song, with perhaps overly simplistic lyrics, but it has a very pretty melody and perhaps the simple lyrics work best in this case. It is a song of hope, about looking beyond the clouds to the sun and the morning that lies there.

But besides those two songs, there was not that much on the album that got my attention. There are some more interesting lyrics from Račs, especially on the song "Es dzīvoju," including the line “Es jūtos kā mauka uz Marijas ielas" (I feel like a whore on Marijas Street). Perhaps Račs is lamenting how most every band in Latvia uses his lyrics!

"Īsziņa" is an ode to the mega-popular (at least in Europe) SMS message, called an "īsziņa" in Latvian. The singer is worried because he thinks he has lost a text message he received on his mobile phone. Fortunately, he is able to retrieve the message and to write back to his beloved to say that he will be there soon.

A poet whom a number of other Latvian artists (including Pērkons and Kaspars Dimiters) have put music to is Klāvs Elsbergs. On Ceļa zīmes, Credo put music to two of Elsbergs’s works: "Uz Meku" and "Spīdi spoži."

This is not a bad album at all, it just seems that there is nothing particularly memorable about it. After I’m done writing this review, I think it unlikely that I will listen to this album very often. Credo is obviously a very talented group, their long history a testament to their ability to write great songs. Their last album, Viss mainās…, was a great effort, but it seems that they are just coasting now, as if they realize that with their great degree of talent, putting together an album that is reasonably good is not too difficult. Instead of presenting a merely "average" album, one wishes they had put in a bit more effort to make a truly "great" album, which they are clearly capable of.

After enjoying Tumsa’s 2000 release, Katram savu Atlantīdu, I picked up their 1997 debut, Putni. I also liked that album, which was far more "hard rock" than Atlantīdu. In terms of musicianship and songwriting, Tumsa had considerably evolved between the two albums. With Nesaprasto cilvēku zemē, it has became apparent that Tumsa is slowly perfecting their craft, making this the best and most consistent release of their career.

The core of the group has always been Mārtiņš Freimanis, who not only provides vocals and plays the acoustic guitar, but is the principal songwriter as well. Rounding out the band are Haralds Drekslers on rhythm and solo guitar, Jānis Daugalis on bass guitar, Kaspars Boroduško on drums and Einārs Kokins on sound. Joining them on this album is Aigars Šmits on keyboards.

Tumsa are first and foremost a rock band, and one of the better examples of that is the opening track "Tā nav lijis," with its catchy and sing-a-long chorus. This song also takes advantage of the presence of the new keyboardist, with the piano providing the hummable main melody.

In a more curious example of their evolution is the song "Tu neesi tāda." The drum beat reminds me of quite a few disco songs, though the song itself is very effective, but perhaps a bit out of place on the album.

Another song that deviates from the regular Tumsa sound is "Lai būtu tā," which sounds like it is from the early days of rock (although with a modernized sound). It reminds me a bit of the song "The Lion Sleeps Tonight," what with its constantly repeating backing vocals. Though it is a deviation from their regular style, this song is also very likable, since it has such a light touch, compared to some of the more serious and heavy songs on the album.

The lyrics on the album are also expansive in their subject matter. One of the more “disturbing” songs on the album is "Šupuldziesma slepkavam," which, as its title suggest, is a rather dark song—a lullaby for a murderer. Freimanis’ lyrics include the line "Guli mans asiņainais draugs" (Sleep my bloody friend).

However, many of the lyrics on the album do go over my head. Sometimes I’m not really quite sure what Freimanis is trying to say in a song, but that did not take away from my enjoyment of the album

My favorite song on the album is probably "Arī man ir sirds." With its great beat and driving rhythm, I think this is destined to be one of the all-time Tumsa classics. I would imagine it would be a hit in concert as well, with its oft-repeated phrase "Ša la la."

One criticism of the album would be that even though Tumsa have nearly perfected their songwriting craft, many of the songs wind up sounding very similar. One might ask, "Why mess with a winning formula?" However, Tumsa seem to be aware of this, judging by some of the afortementioned songs that try to break out of their regular mold.

The most apparent weakness of the Katram savu Atlantīdu was that it had a few too many songs in English (four in total). Perhaps wisely they decided to record every song on this album in Latvian.

Nesaprasto cilvēku zemē is a very solid and highly enjoyable rock record. But I am of the belief that Tumsa have not yet made a truly great album. These guys have incredible talent and I think they have a truly great album in them. In the meantime, Nesaprasto cilvēku zemē should delight all rock fans and help Tumsa reach an even broader audience, something these guys have worked hard to do and of which they are fully deserving.

Raimonds Pauls. The name alone has a great meaning to just about every Latvian, whether they are living in Latvia or elsewhere. Ask a Latvian what their opinion of the man is and you are bound to get a full spectrum of responses. Beloved by many, detested by just as many, Pauls has been by far the most famous figure in Latvian music in the past 50 years.

Pauls is also probably the most prolific composer of the time as well, having released albums by the boatload throughout the years. And in all styles as well: film music, jazz music, music for theatre, Christmas music and just about everything else you could think of. Of course, with that kind of output, there was bound to be some material of lower quality. (The Sapņu pīpe record, anyone? I get bad memories just thinking of that one.) One of the main reasons Pauls was able to release so much material was his good standing with the government at the time, something that few other artists had.

Tev, mana labā was released in 1969, and was Pauls’ very first record. The album had long been out of print, but MICREC—recognizing Pauls’ very large fan base and the historical significance of this record—re-released it on compact disc at the beginning of 2001. And, as a bonus, this CD includes four additional tracks that weren’t on the original album, but had been separately released on a 7-inch vinyl record.

The first time I sat down to listen to this CD I didn’t know what to expect. I knew many of these songs, but didn’t know what they would sound like, as I hadn’t heard them in years. However, as soon as the first track, the song "Tev, mana labā," started playing, a wave of memories started flowing back. My parents had this record when I was much younger and I listened to it constantly. Although I have since aged (but maybe not matured) and my musical tastes have changed, there are still many great songs on this album.

Pauls’ music can be hard to classify at times. "Lounge music" seems to be the most common description, and it fits many of the songs here. Most of the songs are backed up by the REO (Rīgas estrādes orķestris), and feature Pauls’ usual suspects on vocals, including Ojārs Grīnbergs, Nora Bumbiere and Margarita Vilcāne. Pauls had a great interest in jazz as well, a rather different sound in Latvian music of that day.

This release contains many of Pauls’ best-known songs. Among fans, "Mežrozīte" remains his most beloved song. MICREC’s Web site ran a poll on the public’s favorite Pauls song and "Mežrozīte" won hands down. And it is a really beautiful song, with lyrics by A. Krūklis, about a forest rose that continues to grow and bloom throughout the years.

Another favorite of mine and of the general public is the song “Papu, saki mammai pats." It is a song about a conversation between a father and his daughter, who wants to get married to some guy. Of course, both father and daughter are deathly afraid of Mom, so neither wants to talk to her about this (sounds like a typical Latvian mother!). But there are wedding bells at the end of the song, so presumably Mom was okay with the whole thing. The song is infuriatingly catchy, and you will find yourself singing it for a week after hearing it.

Other famous songs include "Kur tu esi" and "Dziesma nenosalst." The latter is a song about wishing to hear the old cradle songs that had been sung in distant childhood, and features some very pretty harpsichord work and backing vocals by a women’s ensemble.

The sound quality of the CD is exceptional. MICREC has done a great job restoring the audio to the highest CD quality. The packaging is also very well done, with very interesting commentary and history about the recording of this album, as well as pictures. The only disappointment is the fact that the lyrics were not included.

Some songs are too “lounge” for me and make me reach for the CD remote so I can skip those tracks. A good example is "Cik labi, ja Tu blakus man." Even as a 7-year-old kid, I couldn’t listen to it the whole way through. It’s a song best left for hotel bars.

One thing struck me as particularly odd. With Pauls having the clout that he does, you would figure he would have had at least a better picture of himself on the front cover! The picture is truly dreadful, with Pauls adopting his best "I am a very serious socialist" pose.

If you’re going to have one Raimonds Pauls album in your collection, this would be the one. It has some of his best work on it, as well as some of his most famous songs. At times the record does show its age, but there are many timeless classics here that will undoubtedly remain popular in the Latvian world for years to come. Love him or hate him, you have to respect the man for his musical ability, and Tev, mana labā is one of the best examples of Raimonds Pauls’ ability to make music.