Beer and Bands Make Õllesummer a Hit
ERR News decided to send someone to review Estonia's biggest summer beer bash. Contributing writer Mike Amundsen drew the short straw.
When the Cranberries canceled their Friday slot at Õllesummer due to an illness in the family of singer Dolores O’Riordan, it took the wind out of my sails. I was really looking forward to listening to one of the big acts of the 90s while sipping a Guinness at the Irish-beer-themed outdoor pub that was surely constructed with them in mind. What I should have realized is that Õllesummer is really about Estonians having a good time with their own bands and beer. Fancy international stuff isn’t required.
Saturday, the final night of the four-night festival, ran the gamut musically. For nihilists, the early evening brought psychotic imagery and heavy metal theater to the Postimees Stage of the Tallinn Song Festival Grounds with the group Winny Puhh. The band was decked out in bloodied surgical smocks, a few sported black-face and the singer had a Hitler mustache. Clearly not everyone’s cup of tea, but they did rock and got the people moshing.
Over on the Estrella Stage, longtime favorites Terminaator had their fans singing along with just about every verse. Front man Jaagup Kreem started the band as a schoolboy back in the late 80s and ever since Terminaator have been an Estonian staple. Their pop with a hard rock edge was nicely crafted; a tight band with an energetic sense of showmanship.
The sophisticated types were at Jacob’s Creek, the jazz and wine venue, proving you don’t have to drink beer at a beer festival. If the need to plunk down a little more money for food and drink was your thing, you could listen to the likes of James Werts & Raimondo Laikre do a tribute to Earth, Wind and Fire. It was, to say the least, a stark contrast to Winny Puhh.
And there was so much else going on. If you were feeling a bit randy you could head over to the Playboy Lounge and ogle the lovely scenery with your cocktail. Or you could go to the Jägerclub and become inebriated with the eponymous German liqueur. There was also karaoke for self-styled pop-stars, inebriated or not.
The evening’s musical apogee was reached with the performance Estonia’s Smilers at the Postimees Stage. One of the country’s most popular bands, their presence was reason enough for most to enjoy Õllesummer on Saturday night. They put on a heck of a show. Two massive screens gave concert-goers a view from every angle. The band was decked out all in white, on an all-white stage and backdrop; even their instruments were white. It was an Õllesummer white-nights-themed event and the effect, including the elaborate light show, was visually arresting. Singer-guitarist Hendrik Sal-Saller looked to be having the time of his life and I can see how the band got its name - he was grinning from ear to ear the whole time.
Walking around the Song Festival Grounds, I couldn’t help the feeling that I was at an American summer county fair. With the food booths, the flowing beer, the multi-stage venue, even the drunks trying to impress their girlfriends with daring-do on less-than-stable looking apparatus, it could have been a July night in rural Iowa.
But in reality, there was only a surface resemblance. This wasn’t Americana at all, it was Estoniana, if there is such a word. And if there isn’t, there should be. A dictionary definition of Estoniana could simply be: "Õllesummer. If you don’t know what that means, you’ll have to go next year."