Guitarist Kristaps Grasis has teamed up with flutist Liene Sējāne to record an album of contemporary chamber music, appropriately titled Modern Chamber Music. Classically, the term “chamber music” applies to works for smaller ensembles, so that it could be performed in a smaller “chamber.” Usually this refers to works like piano duets, string quartets and chamber choir pieces.

As a “modern” twist to this, Grasis and Sējāne, together with Wendel Biskup on bass and Mike Haarman on percussion, composed their own chamber music works and recorded them on this compact disc, released last year in Germany by ZYX Music.

Sējāne and Grasis have a long history together. Grasis, himself from Sweden and son of Latvian folk singer Austris Grasis, studied at the Royal College of Music and the Royal Swedish Academy of Music, both in Stockholm. On one of his first visits to Latvia in the 1980s, he met up with members of the Latvian rock group Pērkons, including keyboardist and principal composer Juris Kulakovs, and brothers Leons and Juris Sējāns. Grasis has released two albums, his debut Nangilima (1994) and Naktis/Nights (1996). He also collaborates with Latvian poet Juris Kronbergs on the album Vilks vienacis, which also features the One-Eye Wolf Band.

Liene Sējāne, originally from Latvia and the daughter of Pērkons guitarist Leons Sējāns, studied flute at the Latvian Academy of Music. Via Grasis’ collaborations with the members of Pērkons, she began working together with him and they released their first album, Parallels, in 2004. The album was published by Musica Baltica in Latvia and featured works by Béla Bartók, Astor Piazzolla and original material by Grasis.

The CD begins with the Sējāne-composed “Elve’s Song”, an almost Renaissance-like work, particularly with her flute work. In fact, it almost seems that the apostrophe is in the wrong place—and maybe it was meant to be “Elves’ Song”—since the work would fit quite nicely in any of the Lord of the Rings films. Or perhaps the song simply is about someone named Elve.

Following on that is the more modern “Fantasie: The Wolf and the Garden” by Grasis, with a more jazz-like influence and a more modern sound to it. “Night Turns to Day,” also by Grasis, features him on classical guitar in the introduction, joined later by the flute of Sējāne. The track presents the sounds of daybreak, as well as its calmness and periodic tension (perhaps from birds who are just beginning to awake).

The CD also features “The Traveller’s Suite”, a work by Grasis made up of the movements “The City,” “Promenade,” “At the Airport,” “Trainride” and “By the Sea.” “The City” features a minor key melody, performed by Sējāne, slightly reminding the listener of English folk songs. “Trainride” is also far more soothing than an actual train ride usually is, but otherwise the movement is a very tender work.

The packaging of the CD is very minimal, with no biographical information or any additional information about the works. However, one can visit the artists’ Web site for further information. Unfortunately, neither the packaging nor the Web site offer any further information on the works on the CD. It would have been interesting to read about what inspired the works and what the intended meaning is, but the listeners are left to guess about what the artists’ intentions were (which, perhaps, was the idea all along).

To give the CD the simple title of Modern Chamber Music is very ambitious, almost implying that this could be a new standard against which further chamber music works are judged against. The musicians are clearly talented and the CD is pleasant enough to listen to and well produced, but perhaps it still lacks something that would make it stand out among other such releases of modern instrumental works. Though certainly no expert on classical music myself, I probably would not call this “chamber music,” more simply instrumental music. More often than not, it reminds me of the progressive rock of the 1960s or 1970s, with the flute in particular recalling Jethro Tull (and maybe even early King Crimson). The music is all very soothing and probably would fit very well on a “smooth jazz” radio station. Certainly the guitar and flute combination is one that is rarely heard, so that itself is one reason the talented duo of Grasis and Sējāne is worth keeping an eye on.

One practically needs a scorecard to track everyone who has gone through the ranks of the Latvian rock group Līvi. The Liepāja-based group has been through so many lineup changes that one becomes dizzy trying to remember them all. Former members often go on to their own successes. Singer Igo Fomins launched a successful solo career after spending time in the group. Guitarist Tomass Kleins, after spending many years in the group, joined up with Igo’s brother Ivo to form the successful but short-lived duo Fomins un Kleins.

A former Līvi member who seemed to vanish completely off the radar after leaving the group is Aivars Brīze. His last album with the band was 1997’s Bailes par ziņģēm, after which he departed the group seemingly never to be heard from again. However, he has resurfaced, partnered with Kleins and other well-known musicians, to form the “new” band Leģions. The band released its debut compact disc, Nekad nesaki nekad, in the fall of 2008.

One of the reasons the duo Fomins un Kleins broke up was supposedly because Kleins wanted to pursue pop music. Kleins formed the band Cacao with popular young singer Andris Ērglis and recorded the big pop hit “Ripoja akmens.” However, after a very public breakup, Cacao was disbanded and Kleins returned to his hard rock roots.

Joining Brīze and Kleins (who is also the principal music writer) is another Līvi member, drummer Vilnis Krieviņš, as well as bassist Eduards Glotovs and keyboard player Juris Kristons. Throw in lyrics by respected rock lyricist Guntars Račs and you would figure you would have the recipe for a seminal Latvian rock album.

Unfortunately, the record is underwhelming and not quite as good as you would expect considering who was involved in making it. But first, though, I must point out that Brīze sounds great. He returns to the microphone for, I believe, the first time in a decade, and has not missed a beat. His unique chainsaw-through-iron voice that sang Līvi classics like “Dzelzsgriezējs” is as strong as ever. Kleins’ guitar work is also as good as ever. However, for whatever reason, the record remains uninspiring, with many songs barely climbing past the generic rock anthem level.

The album begins promisingly, with riffing that would make Angus Young of AC/DC proud in “Tev vajag daudz.” However, much like recent AC/DC releases (like 2008’s Black Ice, sadly generic and uninspired), the riff is the best part of the song, and the song does not grab you as much as an opener should.

Next up is a song about a dog, appropriately titled “Suns,” and a number of tracks that are rather cliché rock music, not to mention with quasi-philosophical lyrics, such as “Laiks ir laiks” (“Time is Time”) or “Notici sev” (“Believe in Yourself”). The standout track is the final song: the ballad “Kad brālis modīsies” (“When Brother Awakes”). The palpable emotion in Brīze’s voice is heartfelt.

The album also sounds a bit too polished. For a rock group that is meant to be a rough and tumble bunch, Leģions seems to be holding back. I would certainly like to hear Kleins go all out in at least one song. Perhaps he is shaking off the last remnants of his excursion into all-out pop music with Ērglis. Or perhaps the guys need some additional time to get into a groove. Hopefully a second album (if there is one—these groups are notorious for being short lived and unstable) will show the members’ full capabilities, as Nekad nesaki nekad seems to be almost reserved and tentative in certain ways. With the talent brought to the table, these guys should have knocked this one out of the park, but apart from a few brief glimpses of brilliance (and the very welcome return of Brīze), this album is, unfortunately, all too forgettable.