One of the most unique voices in Latvian music, if not the most unique and distinctive, not to mention one of the most unique personalities, is singer/guitarist/songwriter Haralds Sīmanis.

With his long hair and beard, and voice that went from a growling bass to a melodic falsetto, he first made his mark in 1980 with the song ‘Ezers’, a song that was quite dramatically different from the Latvian popular music of the day. In fact, it might be even considered the first (if, perhaps, only) example of Latvian progressive rock.

Though ‘Ezers’ was a hit and a particularly memorable song, Sīmanis has remained a bit of a mystery over the past thirty years – slightly eccentric, not particularly prolific, he pops up every now and then only to disappear. It seems likely that he simply avoids the limelight, and prefers to stay low key.

Sīmanis again reentered the public eye in 2012 in two ways. First, the song ‘Ezers’ was performed by Agita Gabranova on the talent show ‘Latvijas zelta talants 2012’ in one of the most memorable performances of that event, which introduced the song and Sīmanis to a younger generation. Second, Sīmanis re-recorded a number of his songs in a stripped-down acoustic style and released the album Es esmu rīts.

Es esmu rīts features eleven of Sīmanis’ compositions (all the lyrics for all of Sīmanis’ songs are written by Arvīds Ulme), and these new interpretations reveal, once again, the true uniqueness and style of Sīmanis’ performances, and reaffirm his status as one of the most eclectic of Latvian songwriters.

Featuring Sīmanis on guitar and vocals, Andris Grunte on contrabass, and Ilze Grunte on guitars and additional instruments, the album provides a quite satisfying overview of Sīmanis’ eclectic songwriting and singing style.

The song ‘Es esmu rīts’ features Ilze Grunte playing the baglama, a guitar-like instrument used in Greek and Turkish music, and gives the song a rich Middle Eastern feel to it, particularly the contrabass solo by Andris Grunte. The same Middle Eastern feel is used to great effect on the song ‘Bezgaismā’.

Andris also features on ‘Zied zāle’, playing a memorable introduction on the contrabass, and Sīmanis, his voice nearly a scream, builds to a powerful crescendo at the end of the song.

Of course, ‘Ezers’, his best known composition, also appears on the album, and though the melody remains the same, in this new arrangement the song is given a fresh update – the stripped-down approach brings forth Sīmanis’ voice. What is also interesting is that this recording restores the third verse, which did not appear in the 1980 original as it did not pass the Soviet censors.

Sīmanis reaffirms his position as one of the most unique of Latvian performers with the release of Es esmu rīts. Though not prolific, every new Sīmanis release is a treat, and Es esmu rīts is no different.

Interested listeners may also want to seek out Starp divām gaismām, a 2006 re-release by MicRec of Sīmanis’ 1997 album Starp divām gaismām (as well as a number of other songs from the 1980s and 90s, including the original version of ‘Ezers’). For those seeking something particularly unique in Latvian music, Es esmu rīts exhibits one of Latvia’s finest songwriters and one of its most distinctive voices.

Spīd, the latest album from Latvian ensemble Oranžās brīvdienas is one of the most fun and creative Latvian albums to be released for quite some time

According to their website, Oranžās brīvdienas describe themselves as ‘TurboFolk’, which features elements of “ska, reggae, metal, rock, disco and other styles mixed with some folk elements”. And this is not at all an exaggeration – the album does truly feature all of these styles, though the ska element seems the most prominent of all of them.

The group has been around for a while – it was founded in 2000 by Ints Ķergalvis – guitarist, vocalist and music and lyric author for all the songs. On Spīd, Ķergalvis is joined by an army of musicians, including Māris Vaivods on bass, Kaspars Čakste on mandolin, Andžs Zvirbulis on electric guitar, drummer Jānis Puzaks, Ritvars Šilkovs playing the saxophone, two trombonists (Maksims Starodubovs and Jānis Kaličus), trumpeter Nauris Bruņinieks, as well as Pēteris Birzgalis performing sound effects.

Oddly enough, the band’s sound and style might periodically remind one of satirical Latvian group Labvēlīgais tips – both groups have horn sections, and both groups sing songs with lyrics that are at times comic, at times rather strange. For example, the title track ‘Spīd’, has a double meaning – ‘Spīd’ in Latvian means ‘shine’, but it pronounced the same way as the English word ‘speed’ – which is quite appropriate, given the song’s uptempo nature and driving drumbeat.

“Pēdējais metālists” (The Last Metalhead) takes a turn towards the heavier, with the song beginning with a metal riff that would not have been out of place on a 1980s thrash record. The horn section even joins in, making for a particularly unusual combination of sounds. It even features some growled death metal vocals at the end. Unfortunately, no lyrics to be found in the booklet or on their website, so it’s up to the listener to guess what he’s growling there!

Many of the songs are captivatingly odd, like the aggressive ‘Sašauti Merši’, where Ķergalvis sings about how his dream cars are shot up Mercedes.  Or, perhaps, the somewhat tongue-in-cheek ‘dance’ song ‘Jauno latviešu diskotēka’

Packaging is pretty sparse though, no booklet or lyric sheet, though you can find more information about the group at their website. In fact, you can even download their first album, 2011’s Evribadi tancevaķ, in full. Lyrics would have been nice to have, as they’re not easy to figure out, and would help one appreciate the album more.

Spīd is truly an eclectic journey through varying musical styles, with one surprise after another and always engaging and enjoyable. Particularly impressive is how Oranžas brīvdienas integrates all the many musicians into a very cohesive ensemble – the horn section in particular is what makes this album particularly memorable. Deftly moving between varying styles, often in the same song, Spīd, is one of the most creative recent Latvian releases.

Artist website: http://www.oranzas.lv

As part of their 50th anniversary celebration in 2011, venerable American Latvian ensemble Čikāgas piecīši had a documentary film developed about them, entitled Par mani, draudziņ, nebēdā. Written and directed by Latvian filmmaker Igors Linga, the one hour documentary feature traces the group’s history from 1961 to their farewell (or, as guitarist/vocalist Armads Birkens says, their ‘first farewell’) tour in 2011.

The film, along with their farewell concert at the Latvian National Theatre on August 19, 2011, is now available on DVD (region 0, so it should play everywhere in the world). The film also has English subtitles.

The documentary film, like many Latvian documentaries, has no narration. It traces the history of the ensemble from its birth in 1961, to the present day through interviews with past and present members, interspersed with archival footage of the band performing, as well as home movies and pictures.

Alberts Legdziņš, the man who has been the leader and soul of the ensemble since its founding, provides a number of interesting details on the career of the group and how it all began (in fact, long-time member and bass player Uldis Streips notes that the group ‘existed’ prior to 1961 as well – Legzdiņš used to perform in their family’s basement). Legdziņš also notes the significance of late member Uldis Ievāns, who provided a lot of the material for their skits between songs. In fact, one time Ievāns and Legdziņš were arguing how to conclude a sketch, and even went on stage without knowing how it would end. What they wound up doing was simply walking off stage.

Long-time member and bass player Uldis Streips provides a lot of insightful commentary on the group, particularly the grueling travel the Piecīši had to endure – depart Chicago Friday night on the way to some Latvian center, drive all night, arrive in the morning, sleep a bit, perform, then drive to the next Latvian center Saturday night, perform Sunday, then drive back to Chicago Sunday night so that everyone could be back at their jobs on Monday mornings. Yet, even with this taxing schedule, the group was always able to entertain their audiences with energy and humor.

Par mani, draudziņ’, nebēdā makes it a point to acknowledge the significant role of women in the ensemble through the years, particularly Janīna Ankipāne (who brought a sort of American ‘folk singer’ style to a number of the group’s songs) as well as Laurie Wood (Lorija Vuda in Latvia), as well as a number of other women who have performed with them.

What makes the documentary particularly fascinating is the home video footage and the pictures from half a century ago, showing these young men playing, performing, relaxing, and horsing around. Also the interviews with former members such as Ilmārs Dzenis and Pēteris Strods provide additional perspectives on the early years of the group in the 1960s.

At about one hour, the documentary film does seem a bit brief, considering that there is fifty years of history to be covered, so certainly there is much more that could have been presented. A particularly glaring gap is their initial trip to Soviet Latvia in 1989 – though there are some clips and reminiscences about that tour, it would have been good to hear more about what made it possible. After all, it was just about the most remarkable event in the group’s history, something that, even a few years prior, would have been unthinkable. Also, it does seem that the film is not really meant as a straightforward historical documentary film, but more an overview of the group, their history, as well as their style and nature. The film expects its audience to already have some knowledge of the group, which may be fine for most, but for someone who had no idea of who Čikāgas piecīši were, it may not be in-depth enough for them to truly understand the significance of the group not just among exile Latvians, but all Latvians worldwide. Nevertheless, it is full of interesting facts and observations, made particularly worthwhile by the input of members both past and present.

The Čikāgas piecīši concert from the Latvian National Theatre is also on the DVD as a bonus. It is a particularly poignant event, considering that this is (probably) the last time the group will perform in Latvia.

The group, at the time of the performance featuring Alberts Legdziņš, Armands Birkens, Janīna Ankipāne, Lorija Vuda Cinkuss, Alnis Cers, Uldis Streips, Linda Maruta and Alberts Vītols, give a ninety minute performance that features their hits, as well as lesser-known songs from various eras.

A nice surprise is that the group, though certainly not eschewing their biggest hits, performs a number of songs which might not be as well known. A highlight is “Sabiedrības tiesā” (otherwise known as “What ze heck jūs gribiet”), with the obvious irony being that this song was written nearly fifty years ago when the group members were the younger generation, though now they are the older generation and have the same headaches with their children. Other highlights include “Vakardienas vīns”, with lead vocal performed by Alberts Vītols as well as the beautiful “Krāslaviņa” (with lyrics by the late Valdis Krāslavietis), particularly the lead vocal by Ankipāne with harmonies by Vuda and Maruta.

I find that the weakest section of a Čikāgas piecīši concert is when children are brought on stage to sing some of their songs. Though frightfully adorable, the artistic results do not usually match the cuteness of the children. Though it is a treat that the kids sing the less well known song “Skudru kāzas”, among other songs, the song may have sounded better with the ‘adults’ singing. Obviously one cannot expect the children to sing perfectly in harmony, but this section is rather slow.

The group is clearly slowing down and their performance schedule is not what it once was, meaning that perhaps rehearsal time is limited. What is particularly telling is that a number of the members have music stands in front of them, presumably with song lyrics and chords. There are a few shaky points over the course of the show, but the group’s ever-present charm more than makes up for these moments. Though, as with the documentary, showing this concert to someone who has no knowledge of Čikāgas piecīši might lead that person to wonder what all the fuss is about – what made these songs resonate with listeners both in exile and in Soviet Latvia?

As they approach the end of their career, Čikāgas piecīši remain one of the most significant Latvian music groups of all time. Par mani, draudziņ’, nebēdā! in both the documentary film, as well as the concert footage, provides a unique look at the group with interviews with many past and present members, as well as rare home video and photo footage. After fifty years of writing, recording and performing, Čikāgas piecīši are, without a doubt, a Latvian legend, and this DVD release is yet another testament to their talents and significance.