Eesti Rahvalaule Ja Pillilugusid: A Folk Treasure from 1970s USSR That Feels Like Home
If you’ve ever wondered what it feels like to step into an Estonian village in the middle of the last century, Eesti Rahvalaule Ja Pillilugusid is your ticket. This album by Various artists—released under the Soviet-era label Мелодия—isn’t just music; it’s a time capsule stuffed with soul-soaked folk tunes, rune singing, and polkas that make your feet twitch whether you want them to or not. It’s raw, unpolished, and deeply human, like hearing stories whispered across generations.
Let me tell you about two tracks that stuck with me long after I hit pause. First up: "Neiud Itkevad Sõpra" (Friends Are Crying). Man, this one hits different. The melody starts slow, almost hesitant, like someone trying to hold back tears but failing miserably. Then comes the harmonies—simple yet haunting—and suddenly you’re not listening anymore; you’re feeling. You can picture old friends sitting around a fire, their faces lit by flickering flames as they sing about loss and longing. It’s messy, real, and beautiful all at once.
Then there’s "Viiulid (Duett): 'Vir-Ver-Vidis' (Polka)". Oh boy, does this track slap! Imagine being at some rustic wedding where everyone’s stomping their boots on wooden floors, laughing too loud, and dancing like nobody’s watching. That’s this song. The fiddles go wild, spinning notes so fast you can barely keep up, and before you know it, you’re grinning like an idiot. There’s something infectious about its energy—it makes you wanna grab someone’s hand and spin ‘em around until you both fall over.
What gets me most about this album is how alive it feels. These aren’t perfect studio recordings; they’re snapshots of life. You hear little cracks in voices, uneven tempos, and instruments that sound like they’ve been played for decades. But instead of taking away from the experience, those imperfections add layers of authenticity. It’s like these songs have dirt under their nails and flour on their sleeves—they’ve lived.
And here’s the thing: while the USSR might’ve tried to box culture into neat categories, albums like this remind us that art always finds a way to breathe. Listening to Eesti Rahvalaule Ja Pillilugusid, I couldn’t help but think about how music connects people—even when borders try to divide them. Funny enough, halfway through writing this review, my cat jumped onto my desk and knocked over my coffee cup. Maybe she was trying to say something profound. Or maybe she just hates folk music. Who knows?
Anyway, if you’re looking for something that’ll take you far away without leaving your chair, give this album a shot. Just don’t blame me if you find yourself humming polkas in the shower tomorrow morning.
