All right, reader, what better way to fleetingly forget about the dumpster fire of the world when in isolation, or for that matter even in a post-iso world, than by listening to music from a country that…no longer exists? And the following goes without saying: you may not understand Serbo-Croatian/Bosnian, et al, but we all know that doesn’t matter, nor has it ever. Music is music, and you can feel what a song is about from the tone, melody, nuances and vocal dynamics, even when you don’t know the language a band is singing in. And all of the songs from the upcoming groups are, in one way or another, about themes universal to us all: life, love, lust, loss. Not only that, but the Yugoslav sound (particularly the New Wave movement of the 80s) was very progressive and unique, and definitely not ‘less than’ in terms of its Western counterparts.
So without further ado, here is a list of entry-level tunes by defunct Yugo bands you must hear. And heck yes, I’ve created a Spotify playlist of 16 songs just for your listening pleasure.
Bijelo Dugme
Sve ce to, mila moja
Ipak, pozelim neko pismo
Look, I gotta start with the big kahuna. Dugme (or Dugmići—little buttons—as they were nicknamed) were huger than huge; they redefined what ‘big’ meant in the Yugo musical landscape from 1974 onwards, which of course meant that they were, naturally, divisive. I’ll avoid waxing rhapsodic about ‘the Buttons’ and their legacy—it’s covered at length in this Shoot Farken article I wrote in 2018; I encourage you to take a squiz at it for a slightly more detailed rundown—and say only that although they might be dismissed at times as “shepherd rock” (one of the derogatory phrases coined during their heyday), they simply cannot be pigeonholed like that, nor should they be. They had some fine moments and they were virtually omnipresent, their music permeating countless households even after they parted ways in 1989. I can vouch for that: their songs are some of the first and earliest I remember hearing; my folks played and sang them all the time (to me and my brother, and in general).
Other songs by Bijelo Dugme to check out: Pjesma mom mladjem bratu / Ne gledaj me tako / Pristao sam bicu sve sto hoce / Bitanga i princeza / Ako mozes, zaboravi / Blues za moju bivsu dragu / Sta bi dao da si na mom mjestu / Da te bogdo ne volim / Sanjao sam nocas da te nemam / Zamisli
Idoli
Rusija
Retko te vidjam sa devojkama
Oh, holy guacamole. Where do I even begin here? Do I start with the fact that they were one of the defining Yugo bands of not only the 80s—and its incredible New Wave era, which they all but ushered in at the start of that decade—but of all time? Do I start by mentioning how Vlada Divljan, its frontman and head songwriter, was one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever clapped eyes on? And how if I were single and time-travelled to the 80s and he rocked up on my front stoop… (Er, I’ve said too much.) Their 1982 album Odbrana i poslednji dani is widely considered by music critics to be one of the greatest, if not the greatest, from the Former Yugoslav region. It’s worth listening to it in its entirety to get a feel for the cohesive, thematic sounds. Idoli were lamentably short lived, breaking up in 1984 after only four years together, but their legacy remains and has deep, far-reaching roots. Sadly, the incomparable Divljan passed away five years ago in Vienna after a long battle with cancer; he was only 57.
Other songs by Idoli to check out: Nebeska tema / Maljčiki / Devojko mala / Odbrana / Malena / Ime da da / Amerika / Poslednji dani / Zasto su danas devojke ljute / Nemo
Azra
Ako znas bilo sto
Uzas je moja furka
It’s no embellishment that Azra were, in a way, the crème de la crème of the Yugoslav music scene, most especially in the way their songs differed so greatly from anything preceding (or following) it. Azra’s sharp-witted frontman, Branimir “Johnny” Štulić, was a dylanesque force of nature: enigmatic, singular, whip-smart, charismatic, no-nonsense. His prescient lyrics reflected that, providing the kind of light and shade—with biting socio-political commentary—that hadn’t been seen before. The music was wholly original; no one song sounded the same, really. More than that, his incisive, often caustic songs tapped into the human psyche in a way so few others had. Štulić could be downright scathing and the audience loved him for it. He left Zagreb for the Netherlands (Utrecht) in the mid-80s, periodically returning for visits to Yugoslavia before finally making a clean break with his original home and ceasing visits after 1995, much to the disappointment of his loyal fanbase who to this day consider him a one-of-a-kind, cult-like figure. Beware, there aren’t too many Azra songs on Spotify—Štulić famously doesn’t allow his discography online unless he himself posts the tunes, and many are posted under his channel, PETROVICPETAR—but you’ll find all of the ones listed below if you go to part 1, part 2 and part 3 of this iconic collection from Štulić’s aforementioned channel.
Other songs by Azra to check out: Kao ti i ja / Obrati paznju na posljednju stvar / Slucajan susret / Tesko vrijeme / Ne reci mi dvaput / Kao i jucer / Pametni knjiski ljudi / Daleko od istine / Naizgled lijepa / E, pa sto
EKV (Ekatarina Velika)
Speaking of cult-like figures…hello, Milan Mladenović of Ekatarina Velika (Catherine the Great). To say that Mladenović was beloved would be an understatement of epic proportions. What’s more, he was the quintessential Yugo child. There was a little bit of him everywhere: born in Zagreb, moved to Sarajevo when he was six, and finally to Belgrade just before he turned twelve, owing to his father being an army officer. But EKV wasn’t just him, as magnificent as he was, it was also the virtuosic Margita “Magi” Stefanović. She was the It girl of the Yugo rock scene, who infused songs with her classically-trained piano playing. Pre-EKV, she passed up the chance to study at the Moscow Conservatorium. And it was one-time drummer (and famous Serbian actor) Srđan “Žika” Todorović, and its other members, too. EKV were a staple of New Wave and brought a kind of sophistication with their unique brand of alternative rock, helmed by Mladenović’s plaintive, powerful vocals. He could in turn belt out and roar (while still maintaining an absurdly clean tone) and quieten down to a velvety timbre. One of my many “wow” moments of listening to EKV throughout my life came the first time I saw a video of their live performance of Zemlja at the “Yutel for Peace” concert in Sarajevo, 1991. ‘Blown away’ doesn’t begin to describe it. EKV wasn’t without heartache (in fact, it was ultimately marked and ended by it): as war raged, Mladenović died of pancreatic cancer in Belgrade (August 1994) at only 36, and Magi died in 2002 from AIDS, having long battled a heroin addiction.
Other songs by EKV to check out: Zemlja / Ti si sav moj bol / Krug / Kao da je nekad bilo / Sarajevo / Srce / Oci boje meda / Budi sam na ulici / Pored mene / Tonemo
Indexi
True pioneers, these guys. They hail from Sarajevo (like a whole slew of other superb Yugo musicians) and were one of the original bands that kickstarted the “Sarajevo school of pop rock” in the 1960s, the influence of which cannot be understated. In fact, it brought forth such an unmistakable identity for Sarajevo that the city was considered the hub of Yugo rock, and rightly so. These trailblazers had a rich discography of multilayered songs with supremely sophisticated musicianship (and Davorin Popović’s singular voice) that captured the imagination of listeners all over Yugoslavia and paved the way for, amongst others, Bijelo Dugme.
Other songs by Indexi to check out: Sve ove godine / Budi kao more / Plima / Sanjam / Bacila je sve niz rijeku / Ti si mi bila naj, naj / Pruzam ruke / Ako jednom budes sama / U jednim plavim ocima / Da sam ja netko
Haustor
Show me a Balkanite who doesn’t go off at a party when Haustor’s Ena comes on and I’ll…I dunno, show you a magical leprechaun? Exactly. Haustor were on the scene from 1979 to 1990, a blend of rock, reggae, and new wave. They had a (somewhat experimental) sound very much their own—colourful, ironic, playful and melancholy in equal measure—with a charming, über-talented frontman in Darko Rundek. In short, they rock(ed) the casbah and were one of the most important, quality bands.
Other songs by Haustor to check out: Skriven iza laznih imena / Moja prva ljubav / Bi’ mogo da mogu / Ula ulala / Zadnji pogled u Jersaleim / Neobican dan / Sal od svile / Sejmeni
Denis & Denis
Sexy, sensuous, cheeky, distinctive, modern. Denis & Denis hailed from Rijeka, Croatia, and brought their electropop stylings to the Yugo music scene in 1982. There was an overt sexual energy to the duo’s synthpop songs, both from the suggestive vocals of one Marina Perazić (considered a major sex symbol at the time) and the unmistakable lyrical content. And although they technically reunited in 2012, I’m pretty sure no one really gave two worths a damn about that reunion (don’t ‘at’ me if you did), and for the purposes of this article let’s…pretend they didn’t.
Other songs by Denis & Denis to check out: Ti i ja / Sacuvaj nesto / Ja sam lazljiva / Program tvog kompjutera / Dio refrena
Film
Azra’s Johnny Štulić made fun of Film’s frontman Jura Stublić in the former’s derisive Roll Over Jura, a few years after Film appeared on the scene. Film is effectively an offshoot of Azra, you see. At the outset Johnny invited Jura to be Azra’s singer, and he was—for a very short time in 1978—but they didn’t get along, and then Jura and a few other members splintered off and created Film. They existed till 1992 and were quite good, but I’ve never been too crazy about the colour of Stublić’s voice. Although on Mi nismo sami (We’re not alone) his voice is beautifully honeyed. The dude just knocks it out of the park in that song, it’s bloody marvellous.
Other songs by Film to check out: Srce na cesti / Na drugoj strani neba / Sjecam se prvog poljupca / Doci cu ti u snovima / Idemo kroz zivot / Ivana / Pjevajmo do zore / Na morskome plavom zalu
If this playlist whets your appetite and you wanna graduate to a more in-depth listen—because it nearly killed me to whittle down to just two songs per band—simply check out the my extended Spotify playlist.
