Laibach "Opus Dei" 1987 ****

I'm visiting friends and family in Athens, where I am originally from. We were having dinner with friends, when one of them (also called Kostas) said he was going to leave early to go to a concert. I asked who's playing and he replied "Laibach" who I knew to be of his favorite bands. I'm not as big a fan as he is, but I think they're a very original and interesting band, and so I tagged along. The band was supposed to tour behind their classic Opus Dei LP, which I also happen to like a lot. It's become quite a trend for bands to perform a classic album in its entirety, followed by an encore featuring hits from the rest of their discography. I've been to such concerts by U2, The Who, Opeth, Love, etc. Laibach opted for a different approach: after an endlessly repeated drum loop that went on for an hour, they opened with some rather experimental, often discordant, songs, which I didn't recognize. As it turns out, these were early album cuts beloved by the fans, but not very likely to win over new ones. The presentation was nevertheless flawless: Milan Fras was half singing - half reciting slogans mimicking the language used by totalitarian regimes, while the screen presented  black & white film excerpts ranging from propaganda videos to news reel snippets to enigmatic weird stuff. After maybe 45' of this I was impressed but not won over, yet. It was the introduction of the second (female) singer that elevated the concert for me. Not only she added a more melodic semi-operatic element, but from that point on the discordant noise was toned way down and songs took on a more conventional structure while keeping all the typical Laibach traits: marching drums, Wagnerian keyboards, sharp riffs etc. A radical reworking of Dylan's "Ballad Of A Thin Man" gave way to their post punk cover of DAF's "Alle Gegen Alle". After a short intermission they continued with the songs from Opus Dei, followed by two remarkably beautiful ballads and an ironic but highly entertaining sing-along version of Foreigner's "I Want To Know What Love Is" - at that point they had been playing for more than 2 hours without losing steam, having frontloaded their setlist with the "difficult" stuff at the start, and ending with the crowd pleasers. For the 2nd encore, they treated us to "Strange Fruit"; a menacing Billy Holiday cover that removed the melody and hit you hard with the lyrics while images of a bombed-out city (Berlin? Gaza? Mariupol?) played at the background. All in all, not a performance one is likely to forget any time soon.

I guess I should start with a short introduction: Laibach is an art collective rather than just a rock band. Their music, interviews, performances, and record artwork, form an aesthetic that both simulates and satirizes the art favored by totalitarian regimes, drawing comparisons between pop culture and fascism without ever being explicit about it - indeed they embrace that esthetic with a straight face, leaving the listener to decide whether they're seriously influenced by fascism or mocking it; "We are fascists as much as Hitler was a painter" they've declared. The band was formed in Slovenia, then part of communist Yugoslavia, around 1980 - Laibach is the name Germans used for Slovenian capital Ljubljana during its occupation by the Nazis. The use of the German language and Nazi-style artwork must have been a red flag (pun unintended) to the commissars, but somehow they managed to overcome censorship. In the beginning their music was more experimental, but by the release of Opus Dei in 1987 they had hit the right balance, as evidenced by the two covers opening this CD: "Leben Heißt Leben" is a German language cover of pop hit "Live is Life" by Austrian band Opus. It features martial drumming and trumpets, operatic vocals, and heavy metal guitar soloing. The same elements, including the use of German, are employed for "Geburt Einer Nation", their infectious cover of Queen's "One Vision". Those two represent the most commercial/entertaining side of Laibach, but the rest of the album is also quite accessible: the industrial metal "Leben - Tod" reveals Laibach as the prototype for future successes by Rammstein, while "F.I.A.T." is more cinematic/orchestral. This is followed by "Opus Dei", which is basically the second cover of Opus' "Live Is Life". This one is sung in English; compared to the German version this is more epic, less dark and oppressive. "Trans-National" is more experimental and atonal, focusing on drums and electronics. "The Great Seal" is an orchestral piece evoking the more heroic moments of Hollywood soundtracks, culminating in a recitation of Churchill's famous "We shall fight them on the beaches" speech. The CD version of the album adds 4, then still unreleased, tracks written for the stage: Krst pod Triglavom: Baptism was a play about the defeat of pagan Slovenian Slavs in the hands of Christian Germans, and their subsequent forced mass Christianization. These tunes are much more experimental, featuring martial drumming, orchestral parts, and excessive use of samples. I'm not one to complain for free extras, but I have the feeling that these bonus tracks deduct rather than add to one's listening pleasure; they may be interesting, but way too different and less accessible than the vinyl version. Only the last track ("Krst [Baptism]"), which basically mostly consists of slow and super loud drumming, blends well with the rest of the album. Interestingly, the band has just released a re-recorded version of Opus Dei, featuring the current touring band with the dual vocal talents of Milan Fras and Marina Mårtensson. It was on sale during the concert, but I decided against buying it. Much as I liked the new singer, I can't imagine them improving on this. It is a classic, hugely influential, album in the intersection of Goth, Industrial, Classical, and Metal genres, as well as a perfectly accessible introduction to a highly original, albeit "difficult" group. 5* for the LP version, 4* for the CD. 

***** for Leben Heißt Leben, Geburt Einer Nation, Opus Dei

**** for Leben - Tod, F.I.A.T., The Great Seal

*** for Trans-National, How The West Was Won, Herz-Felde, Koža (Skin), Krst (Baptism)

** for Jägerspiel

Plava Trava Zaborava "Country" 1985***

After presenting country-fied bands from Germany and Greece, I thought I'd do the same for probably the most surprising C&W album in my collection: Plava Trava Zaborava formed in 1982 in Zagreb (then part of The Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, now Croatia). The band's name translates as "Blue Grass Oblivion", and they deal strictly in traditional country, mostly bluegrass. This is their 2nd LP, released in 1985 by the local (state-owned, of course) Jugoton label. Apparently, in a time when Ronald Reagan spoke of the Soviet Union as the "Evil Empire" and Eastern Europe supposedly lived behind an impenetrable Iron Curtain, the denizens of communist Yugoslavia got their kicks dressing like cowboys and lovingly recreating the "enemy's" music. Who knew? I don't know whether this was a trend in other Eastern European countries, but it certainly wasn't a unique occurence: during a recent visit in Prague I was surprised by the many old Czechoslovakian C&W records I found in used record bins. I'm not by any means a country music connoisseur, but there's no denying that Plava Trava Zaborava play with skill and gusto and generally sound to me like a legit country band. The instrumentation is just right for this genre, and includes lots of fiddle, as well as mandolin, banjo, dobro, and pedal steel guitar. With the exception of sprightly instrumental "Yugo Goes to Nashville", the rest of the songs are covers: each side starts with a traditional bluegrass tune (Bill Monroe's "I'm Ready to Go" and "Blue Moon of Kentucky") and closes with a John Denver cover ("Country Boy" and "Take Me Home Country Roads"). Inbetween we get covers from Johnny Cash and The Band, among others. The singers' English sound natural without the heavy foreign accents one might fear to come across. Eduard "Jimmy" Matesic takes lead on most of the songs, while a couple of them feature female lead vocals by Rajka Sutlovic. (Pedal steel guitarist) Davor and (banjo and bass player) Vladimir have one lead vocal each, while all of them harmonize nicely throughout. It's strange to associate these Slavic names with this kind of music, but that just proves what we all knew all along: that music is a universal language. Asians can rap, whites can play funk, blacks can play metal, and Slavs can play country and western, and it all sounds good as long as the music connects with something deep inside. I'll admit I only bought this LP as a curious addition to my collection, but it's actually a very enjoyable record within its genre. A solid C&W album, recorded in the Balkans at a time when Nashville was moving away from tradition and towards crass commercialism. How about that?

**** for Voila an American Dream, Thank God I'm a Country Girl, Take Me Home Country Roads

*** for I'm Ready to Go, Corina Corina, Cripple Creek, Country Boy, Blue Moon of Kentucky, Yugo Goes to Nashville, Evangeline, Shot Full of Love, I Been to Georgia on a Fast Train

Bijelo Dugme "Bitanga I Princeza" 1979****

I've been listening to rock and collecting records for 35 years or so, and it took me a long time to acquaint myself to what one can call (in the absence of a better term) East Bloc Rock. Not surprising really, most people are still not aware of its existence. Yet exist it did, long-haired rockers who, despite the political adversities, recorded for State-owned labels in the so-called East Bloc. It amuses me to think that, contrary to popular belief, the iron curtain was not as impermeable as we think: those east of it were aware of the trends on the other side, creating their own versions of it often as good or surpassing their Western counterparts. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying there was a scene comparable to the one in the US or UK, but when you compare the rock scene of, say, Hungary or Yugoslavia to Western countries of similar size like Austria or Portugal, they weren't falling behind. No, apparently the iron curtain was to block our view, to make us believe that art, creativity, and fun were smothered by a totalitarian regime out of Orwell's 1984. We knew there were symphony orchestras, folk troupes, and high-achieving athletes on the other side - but who could imagine East Bloc youths playing loud rock music, dancing and partying like Western ones? Of course, the situation differed from country to country: East Germany, Poland, Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, and Hungary produced their fair share of rock music, which was rarer in Bulgaria and Romania, and non-existent in Albania. In the Soviet Union itself, rock was an underground phenomenon to which the State only opened up hesitantly and gradually during the 80's.

Bijelo Dugme was one of the first East Bloc bands that I sought out - apart from East Germans City whose "Am Fenster" was a huge hit with Greek pirate radio stations when I was growing up. Then, during the late 80's, it was Goran Bregovic's turn to steal the hearts of Greek audiences, initially through his music for Emir Kusturica's Time Of The Gypsies film and afterwards through collaborations with popular Greek artists, as well as with Iggy Pop on the soundtrack of Arizona Dream. I enjoyed Bregovic's lyrical take on Balkan folk as presented in these soundtracks, as well as the more upbeat Balkan tunes from Kusturica's next movie, Underground.  So naturally when I heard that he used to be real rock star in Yugoslavia I was excited to hear a sample of his older work. At the time it wasn't possible to get hold of the records he had made in the 70's and early 80's with his band Bijelo Dugme (White Button), but with internet shopping becoming easier I later got hold of a double CD compilation, which I presented on this blog a few years ago. 5 out of the 6 tracks from 1979's Bitanga I Princeza were included in the compilation, but when I came across a vinyl copy for a good price I couldn't help myself; this is exactly the sort of music that's meant to be heard on vinyl. This was their fourth great album in a row, slightly different than the previous ones because it minimized the folk element in favor of conventional hard rock. It is the first time they had problems with the sensors: first of all, their chosen album cover was replaced by the label with the one you see here. The original depicted a female leg in stockings and high heels kicking a man in the groin - it was considered vulgar even though it wasn't any more provocative than their previous ones. Two lyrics were also censored, one for containing the Serbo-Croatian version of the "f" word, the other -curiously for an atheist state- because the phrase "...and Christ was bastard and misery" was deemed offensive to Christians. The band denied having any such intention, the name of Christ probably being used in the song as an umbrella term for "saviors" in general. The album opens with a couple of hard rocking numbers: "Bitanga I Princeza" reminds me of Uriah Heep's FM-oriented singles of the era, while "Ala Je Glupo Zaboravit Njen Broj" is a speedy rocker sounding like a cross between Rory Gallagher and Greek rocker of the same era Pavlos Sidiropoulos. "A Koliko Si Ih Imala Do Sad" is among the band's funkier pieces, while "Na Zadnjem Sjedištu Moga Autaand" even flirts with disco. "Ipak, Poželim Neko Pismo" is a mid-tempo piece with funk groove and a vaguely Balkan-sounding chorus - the only throwback to their pastirski rock days. On a completely different tone, the two symphonic prog ballads "Kad Zaboraviš Juli" and "Sve Će To Mila Moja Prekriti Ruzmarin Snjegovi I Šaš" display aspirations towards serious musicianship. Many consider Bitanga I Princeza the height of the band's artistry. It certainly features a variety of styles without containing any weak moments, while subsequent albums would move away from hard rock towards pop and new wave, and would only intermittently yield a really good song. In my mind, Bijelo Dugme is one of the most underrated classic rock acts in Europe but few outside their native land seem to agree - could it be that because of growing up in another Balkan country, their take on rock music is more familiar to me than to others? Anyway, it's worth delving into the whole East Bloc scene; the fact that all these rockers imported a variety of styles from outside and mixed them with local traditions has produced some interesting, genre-defying, results. I can recommend this Spotify playlist as a starting point, but there's also still much I haven't discovered myself yet... 

***** for Bitanga I Princeza, Sve Će To Mila Moja Prekriti Ruzmarin Snjegovi I Šaš

**** for Ala Je Glupo Zaboravit Njen Broj, Ipak, Poželim Neko Pismo, Na Zadnjem Sjedištu Moga Auta, A Koliko Si Ih Imala Do Sad

*** for Kad Zaboraviš Juli

 

Bijelo Dugme "The Ultimate Collection" 1974-1988(rec) 2007(comp)****

I've really been working on this review for a long time. Not only it's a very long album (35 songs) but it spans many years and styles, and concerns a band that is very famous in their own land (making any mistakes on my part easily detectable) but also previously completely unknown to me, meaning it required quite a lot of research and careful listening. Not to mention it's sung in Serbo-Croatian, which sound pretty strange to the ears of those of us not used to Slavic languages. I hope it's nevertheless a good presentation of the album and the band to readers not familiar with Yugoslavian rock and will encourage them to delve further into that genre.

Here's one I don't know where to classify, and this time I don't just mean musically but geographically. Bijelo Dugme (Serbian for White Button) were (I believe) Serbians, born and bred in Sarajevo of Bosnia and recording for a Croatian label. Back then, of course, all these were one country, named Yugoslavia. The powers that be divided it in several pieces, after plunging it in a bloody civil war whose ripples are still felt in the area. Despite being neighbors, we Greeks did not have much cultural exchange with Yugoslavia - except in sports, that is. Goran Bregovic was the first Yugoslavian artist to become popular (in the late 80's) thanks to his film music and has subsequently recorded with many famous Greek artists - yet few people know he used to be a rock star in his own country. Even the idea of Yugoslavian Rock sounds ridiculous to people nurtured with the idea that rock can only be English or American. When I read about them, I just had to get me an album and, thanks to ebay, I soon had this double compilation with a generous 35-song tracklisting. The band was founded in 1974 and led by guitarist Goran Bregović and singer Željko Bebek. Like most East European rockers they sing in their native language, either because they didn't speak English or -more likely- to avoid problems with the "communist" censors. Its mixture of hard rock, blues and Balkan folk music was named by the press pastirski (shepherd) rock. Now, in Western music, folk usually means acoustic instruments and ballads. Those familiar with the Balkans, though, know that Balkan folk is mostly dance music for big feasts, weddings etc. and meant to be played loud. Couple that with BD's insistence on electric instruments and the outcome is nothing like folk rock - rather hard rock often inspired by traditional melodies. The slow songs, on the other hand, are more Westernized as they draw inspiration from the blues. I will not go into details about their history since there's a very detailed wikipedia page in English on them. Instead I'll present their discography through the songs making up this compilation, starting with their first single, 1974's "Top", a hard rocker reminiscent of Deep Purple Mk.I (pre-Ian Gillan) while "Da Sam Pekar" from the same year is a fast paced boogie. From their '74 debut LP "Kad bi bio bijelo dugme" we get the heavy blues "Blues Za Moju Bivšu Dragu", the shameless Chuck Berry ripoff "Ne Spavaj Mala Moja Muzika Dok Svira" and the emotive ballad "Selma". The album's cover must have been pretty daring for East Bloc standards, as it featured a girl in an unbuttoned jean shirt, exposing most of her breasts. It didn't seem to bother the censors, though, and the band would go on with releasing more provocative covers in the future.

This collection also includes most of their 1975 album "Šta bi dao da si na mom mjestu", including the galloping "Hop Cup" and the blues/hard rock "Ne Gledaj Me Tako I Ne Ljubi Me Više". Once again I'm reminded of Deep Purple (Mk III this time, and their classic "Mistreated") because of Bebek's bluesy delivery and the great interplay between Bregović 's guitar and Vlado Pravdić's organ. Other songs from this album include the bluesy "Šta Bi Dao Da Si Na Mom Mjestu" and "Ne Gledaj Me Tako I Ne Ljubi Me Više" and power ballad "Došao Sam Da Ti Kažem Da Odlazim". "Tako Ti Je Mala Moja Kad Ljubi Bosanac" is dominated by an almost metallic riff but also contains a Balkan-sounding chorus. "Požurite Konji Moji" is a complex composition, a fast hard rocker with a prog/jazz middle section. "Ima neka tajna veza" is a nice, single-only, mid-paced prog rocker from the same year.

From 1976's "Eto! Baš hoću!" we get once more most of the album, starting with the epic hard rock of "Dede Bona, Sjeti Se, De Tako Ti Svega" and "Izgledala Je Malo Čudno U Kaputu Žutom Krojenom Bez Veze" with its heavily distorted guitar effects. "Ne Dese Se Takve Stvari Pravome Muškarcu" is closer to Lynyrd Skynyrd territory and even features some great harmonica. "Sanjao Sam Nocas Da Te Nemam" and "Loše Vino" are a couple of sensitive ballads with sensual female backing vocals.

1979's "Bitanga i princeza", almost completely included in this compilation, is straight hard rock, the same-named number reminding me of Uriah Heep's FM-oriented singles of the era. "Ala je glupo zaboravit' njen broj" is a fast rocker very close to what Pavlos Sidiropoulos was doing around the same time in Greece. It contains their first censored lyric - curiously for an "atheist" socialist society because the censors thought it could offend religious Christians. In "Ipak, poželim neko pismo" the guitar is less prominent than the bass and keyboards. The Balkan-sounding melody of the chorus is the only discernible folk element in this LP. "Kad zaboraviš juli" and "Sve Će To Mila Moja Prekriti Ruzmarin Snjegovi I Šaš" are a couple of grandiose ballads featuring a symphonic orchestra, "Na Zadnjem Sjedištu Moga Auta" points to a turn of direction, incorporating ska, disco and new wave elements. 

By next year's "Doživjeti Stotu" the transformation (musical and stylistical) is complete and, although Bregovic has complete control as producer, his electric guitar is buried behind the keyboards and sax. Songs like "Doživjeti Stotu", "Čudesno Jutro U Krevetu Gđe Petrović" and "Ha, Ha, Ha" have more in common with The Beat or The Motels than with their earlier albums and "Pristao Sam Bicu Sve Sto Hoce" a pleasant but forgettable singalong number.

1983's "Uspavanka za Radmilu M" continues on the same ska/new wave style. "Drugovi I Drugarice" and "U Vrijeme Otkazanih Letova" are nice enough for that genre but sound rather outdated to my ears. "Kosovska", sung in Albanian, was the band's attempt of reconciling the Serbian and Albanian communities of that Yugoslavian Republic through rock'n'roll. Admirable sentiment but it'd take much more than an Eye Of The Tiger-style funk rocker to do that. "Ako Mozes, Zaboravi" is the standout track, and the first song in this compilation that actually sounds like the Goran Bregovic we know from the "Time of The Gypsies". Think Ederlezi with electric guitars and you're close.

From 1984's "Bijelo Dugme", featuring new singer Mladen Vojičić Tifa, we get only the folk-inflected "Lipe Cvatu Sve Je Isto K'o I Lani" while 1986's "Pljuni i zapjevaj moja Jugoslavijo" featured yet another vocalist in Alen Islamović. "Hajdemo u planine" features both gypsy folk and funk/rap elements while "Ružica si bila, sada više nisi" is the kind of pop ballad that later became associated with the likes of Eros Ramazzotti - something that also holds for "Nakon Svih Ovih Godina" from the band's last album "Ćiribiribela" (1988).

The story of Bijelo Dugme comes to a close, almost simultaneously with the story of their country. In the early 90's, Yugoslavia was immersed in a civil war, the bloodiest and most senseless Europe has seen since World War II. The country was divided and official history has given out roles: the good guys, the bad guys, the victims and the murderers. Like always, reality is infinitely more complicated. Suffice it to say that the split is complete and that all that came before now seems as unreal as a dream. It seems like there always has been a country called Croatia, Serbia, Slovenia etc. Yugoslavia has almost faded from memory within a few years, and so has its greatest rock band Bijelo Dugme. Goran Bregovic has moved on to become a successful film music composer and international world music star, but his rock'n'roll past deserves to be saved from obscurity (though of course it's anything but obscure for his co-patriots). This compilation makes for an ideal introduction.

***** for Požurite Konji Moji

**** for Top, Da Sam Pekar, Ne Spavaj Mala Moja Muzika Dok Svira, Tako Ti Je Mala Moja Kad Ljubi Bosanac, Hop Cup, Bitanga I Princeza, Na Zadnjem Sjedištu Moga Auta, Hajdemo U Planine, Ima Neka Tajna Veza, Selma, Blues Za Moju Bivšu Dragu, Loše Vino, Sve Će To Mila Moja Prekriti Ruzmarin Snjegovi I Šaš, Ako Možeš Zaboravi 

*** for Dede Bona, Sjeti Se, De Tako Ti Svega, Izgledala Je Malo Čudno U Kaputu Žutom Krojenom Bez Veze, Ne Dese Se Takve Stvari Pravome Muškarcu, Ala Je Glupo Zaboravit Njen Broj, Doživjeti Stotu, Čudesno Jutro U Krevetu Gđe Petrović, Drugarice I Drugovi, Vrijeme Otkazanih Letova, Lipe Cvatu, Došao Sam Da Ti Kažem Da Odlazim, Ne Gledaj Me Tako I Ne Ljubi Me Više, Šta Bi Dao Da Si Na Mom Mjestu, Sanjao Sam Nočas Da Te Nemam, Ipak Opželim Neko Pismo, Kad Zaboraviš Juli

** for Ha Ha Ha, Kosovska, Pristao Sam Biću Sve Što Hoće, Ružica Si Bila, Nakon Svih Ovih Godina