Finland's VärttixE4 began in the early 80s as a 21-member ensemble, 15 of which were female vocalists, performing traditional folk music from the southeastern Karelian region. The vocalists' distinctive, sharp style, accompanied by upright bass, violin, accordion and various woodwind instruments was featured on two late 80s records only released in their own country. These were regionally popular discs, but the band didn't hit it big until the primary players (including current members Mari Kaasinen and Janne Lappalainen) jumped ship and formed a second, smaller version of the band (in a turn oddly similar to the Amon Düül legacy). This group released the internationally popular Oi Dai in 1990, which stuck close to their folk roots but introduced a manic rock edge. Imagine a tight gypsy band, nimbly dancing around impossible shifts in meter and speed, but only in support of some of the most amazing vocals ever recorded. VärttixE4's singing reminds me of the late-80s' Mystere des Voix Bulgares series on Elektra/Nonesuch, with their high register acrobatics and almost piercing unison lines. In short, they might think stuff is old hat in Finland, but to me it sounds like the party music of Nordic war gods.
Iki is VärttixE4's ninth studio record, and their best since that remarkable 1990 LP; it's especially welcome after a lengthy period wherein they appeared to be going for some kind of adult-contemporary crossover (most notably on 1996's underwhelming Kokko) but ended up sounding like a tart, unplugged ABBA. The tempos have slowed a tad over the years, and the vocalists aren't dazzling you with fireworks so much as enticing with intricate harmonies and tender expression, but with that said, much of this will still get your blood moving if you let it. Karelian folk seems to have some kind of built-in adrenaline, so even when things don't seem that hectic, they're brimming with kinetic energy nonetheless.
Versions of "Syyllinen Syli" (from traditional verse, though VärttixE4 perform mostly original music now) bookend Iki, and illustrate perfectly the kind of passion the group are able to pull out of harmonies and phrasing that must be hundreds of years old. The song is apparently about an unfaithful husband, and the minor-key melody makes it pretty clear these women are none to happy about the guy. However, despite the powerful wail of the trio of vocalists on the second version, it's Kaasinen's delicate solos on both tracks that overwhelm me. I'm not really the type to go on about someone's voice, but hers is simply gorgeous. "Tuulen Tunto" adds a full band, a dreamy, almost elfin ballad; the vocalists soar over an opulent arrangement of accordion, violin and acoustic guitar as the gentle piece takes on an angelic timbre.
"Tauti" (translated as "Disease") is an aggressive odd-metered jaunt, with some of the best singing on the record. The band hacks into the piece with precision, and the violin drops a few harrowing lines to send some folks into celebratory convulsions while causing others to trip all over themselves. Again, it's hard to tell whether this music is happy and fun or brutal and warlike, but when it provokes my blood to boil so, I cease splitting hairs. Susan Aho's "Maahinen Neito" ("Earth-Maiden", which betrays the mythological tint to much of this music) succeeds even further at this: dark guitar figures, misty reeds and a cutting bass support her vocal, which sounds at once a warning and a seduction. The tune explodes into a chorus of three-part harmony and slashing cymbals, at which point everything gets witchy, with a disembodied moan and unison drone replacing the previous restless dance. The outro slams all of this into one manic pot, and goes away just as quickly. Fucking breathless.
There's a lot to recommend here, but I'll provide the caveat that if you absolutely hate the modal adventures of bands like John Zorn's Masada, of Pachora, Les Voix des Bulgares or any number of Eastern European folk groups, this might not be up your alley. One of VärttixE4's attributes is that they seem to have little problem translating faraway jams into something a whole bunch of people can understand, so an obscuro-fetish is hardly required. Uskomaton!
