Blesok no. 45, November-December, 2005
Singing Cities: Images of the City in Ex-Yu Popular Music
Music and the city present an interesting subject for analysis. With regard to former Yugoslavia, popular music in general offers a very entertaining resource for understanding the everyday life in relation to political mythology. Songs about the city, in particular, seem to reflect the regime`s attempt to modernise and urbanise the country. In this essay, I will examine the morphology of the city that may be re/constructed from textual analysis of selected songs counterpoised against historical context might offer some insight into the mythscapes of former Yugoslavia. The selection of songs covers the period between late 1950s and late 1980s. This period saw the rise of the city in the light of post-World War II rebuilding enthusiasm and subsequent problematisation of the city concurrent with the collapse of the regime. The turning point seems to be Tito`s death, after which the rifts in the state`s edifice became strikingly apparent. Attempting to sketch the city as represented in the lyrics, I will focus particularily on the soundscapes of Ljubljana, but try to relate imagery to Beograd and Zagreb as well.
The realm of music in former Yugoslavia, Mirjana Laušević maintains, allows for three expressive modes to be discerned: revolutionary songs, the work of cultural and artistic ensembles, and popular music. As far as popular music is concerned, its ‘many genres […] can be viewed as subcultural sounds and discussed separately’. But, what is important in this context is ‘their common feature: the capability of grouping people in categories other than national ones.’ Two genres, significantly formed through intensive borrowing from foreign, predominantly Western, forms of musical expression and essentially related to the city, offer interesting readings. One is the genre of popular song, that flourished predominantly throughout 1950s and until early 1970s. It includes the type of easy-listening music that fits the category of canzona, Schlager, popevka, jazz and musical. It was mainly popularised through radio and festivals and later TV, thus made present and known throughout the country. The other one is the so called yugo rock, music that from the 1970s on played the role of one of the most prominent popular cultural frameworks. Peter Stankovič notes that ‘differences that existed on the level of aesthetics, did not prevent the feeling of being a part of a common yu-rock culture […] [what is more] yu-rock, divided into different genre manifestations, remained one of the few world-views that in the second half of the 1980s functioned integratively.‘ Regardless of both genres being qualitatively rather different and not necessarily the most popular in terms of numbers, it is their trans-ethnic characteristics that renders them ‘Yugoslavian’ and hence appropriate for analysis of the imagery of the cities. Now, the retrospective gaze through the forms of popular culture reveals certain things and obscures others. One needs to take into consideration the following points: first, although a much greater variety of expressions of popular culture, art, etc., existed in the past, the limitations of technology did not allow to preserve as much as there can be preserved today – technical aspect. Second, the ideological apparatus was thus much more effective in selection of contents to be preserved, since the control over studios, cameras, recording devices could be more centralised – ideological aspect. And third, in retrospection therefore, the more distant past may appear more homogenous and unified as it actually was, as compared to the more recent past that due to its proximity and living histories may appear more fragmented and diversified. Inevitably, because of technological development and subsequent availability of necessary equipment, a variety of different genres and dispersion of content nevertheless occured.
The most important and strong connection between both genres is their undisputable origin in the city. The city in Yugoslavian quotidien played an important role. Republican capitals and other urban centres provided the nodal points in statewide network of cities. Also, they figured as a point of reference in relation to city`s vicinity. Viewed as a centre of bureaucratic machinery, of industrial development, a setting for meeting and trading, industry, sometimes the place of bonvivance, debauchery, the city ‘gives promise of increased economic opportunity, access to education, better facilities, [and] greater variety and freedom from traditional restraints of village life.’ Moreover, as a node in the trans-border network of cities it is the ‘most frequent funnel for foreign goods, ideas and influence, and [it is] focus upon which lines of communication from the outside world converge.’ Interaction and exchange between citizens, visitors, travellers, that make the city actually alive, facilitates the creation of symbolic tissue that is significantly defined through the inter-city and the city-vicinity polylogue. And as Henri Lefebvre states, ‘if there is a production of the city, and social relations in the city, it is a production and reproduction of human beings by human beings, rather than a produciton of objects.’ However, people need to stabilise the fluidity and insecurity of existence by creating material anchors that allow for collective participation. In the city, it is the excess of materialised past constantly metamorphising the present in search for tomorrow that produces and conveys highly symbolical imagery. Before the spread of mass media, the imagery of the city found its place predominantly in personal accounts, postcards and photography. In the second half of the twentieth century films, TV-news, news-reels, documentaries, tourism, etc. became the major transmiters of the city`s images. (Popular) music, however, existing in flow between material and symbolical, is a powerful tool to capture images and merge them with highly individualised perceptions of the external world. Thus, it builds soundscapes fundamentally defined by presence of photographic and moving images through which the reality is mediated. Due to its extreme fluidity and flexiblity in invading listener`s concsciousness, popular music is tuning the listener into universality that guarantees the experience of collectivity.
In the post-war period, Yugoslavia was undergoing processes of rebuilding the country and building new symbolic tissue. The enthusiasm of renewal, at least in the realm of official politics, was fueled by the international position of the state and internal insecurity of the regime that provided raw material for motivating mythology of transition. According to the line in the song of the International: ‘Sav svjet iz temelja se mjenja/Mi nismo ništa, bićemo sve’, the state implemented politics of rapid industrialisation and modernisation, which both suffered time lag in relation to the rest of Europe. This meant development of heavy industries and growth of bureaucratic apparatus, which inevitably facilitated growth of the cities. Also, quite a number of cities was created ex nihilo, such as Nova Gorica, Slovenia, which was designed to be the shopping window of socialism. Processes of modernisation and urbanisation resulted in great numbers of people moving to urban(ised) areas. In the spirit of economic growth and alleged prosperity, cities, as opposed to the surrounding rural areas, figured as prominent centres around which the symbolic geography of the country was fabricated. Neverthless, the city had the dark side as well.
Imagery of the city thus found its way into the realm of popular music, which through ever more available radio and TV receivers, tape and record players found its way into the privacy of the home. In the 1950s and 1960s, Marjana Deržaj was singing in the popular song ‘V Ljubljano’: ‘Naš mali avto je še premajhen/Da v njem sedeli lahko bi vsi/Pa jaz na strehi, pa ti na strehi/Pa on na strehi, naj sedi.’ These lines epithomise the excitement that the new times bring. What is more, the car, as the status symbol, being not big enough yet, implicitly presupposes the bright future awaiting, where ‘we’ can go together, even if one needs to sit on the roof. The joyful melodics of this song convey easygoing brightness yet progressive optimism, that in the following lines: ‘V Ljubljano gremo mi/v Ljubljani so lepe ulice/Na ulicah pa lepe deklice’, portrays the lively streets of the city. The city also figures as a place for romance. The imagery of incessant rhythm of life, depicted in ‘Mi bomo vso noč preplesali/Bela Ljubljana nikdar ni zaspana, o ne’, also presents the city as the ideological moteur of the republic`s capital, the whiteness of which (Bela/White Ljubljana) implies clean, airy, light and unoppressive experience of the city.
After the Tito-Stalin split in 1948 and official dismissal of socialist realism in the sphere of cultural produciton in 1952  a relative decentralisation and openness of the system towards the West could not be prevented. This resulted in variety of Western influences ‘invading’ the sphere of popular culture and subsequent acculturation of new foreign forms of expression. In this atmosphere, Bele vrane, the band from the 1960s that ascribed to the hippy look of the Mamas and the Papas, although backed by orchestra, still remained faithful to the genre of popevka. Nevertheless, they introduced new kind of music and contributed to the definition and promulgation of pop music. In one of their songs about Ljubljana, ‘Šuštarski most,’ they sing: ‘V Ljubljani za Ljubljanico/najde vsak kar išče’. The listener is led from having dinner at the then famous Vitez restaurant, to drinking in the bar Maček, on to the Robba`s fountain where one can chill the hangover in the fountain water. References to Ljubljana`s popular topographical points figure as a designator of cityscape in the songscape. This physically existent, material places are given life in the song trying to appeal to the specific intimate mental places. The refrain, for instance: ‘Čez Šuštarski most/levo na Mestni trg/Desno na Stari trg/Po spomine po mladost/Čez Šuštarski most’, most explicitly evokes themes of memories and youth. These inhabit the very private representations of places in the flow of time. In another one of the their songs, still popular today, Bele vrane sing about Ljubljana as seen from the Nebotičnik. The city in the following lines: ‘Mala terasa, spodaj Ljubljana/pomanjšana, da odnesla bi od tu/bele hišice, v predpasniku’, figures as an entity that from the top of the skyscraper seems managable, therefore a very heimlich place. Coupled by the line ‘Sva šla na malo teraso/nad širno Ljubljano’ it offers a read that in order to fully get hold of the city, as a metaphor, one needs to detach oneself from it. On the other hand, the last lines could imply the pressure of the accomodation problems with regard to scarce capacities, for one needs to go ‘bliže sonca in modrega neba’ in order to ‘pozabiva, da premajhna za dva/in žalostna sobica, je najina’. That is, to get away, but still remain within. Because, every runaway necessarily means taking along a part of what one tries to leave behind.
Interestingly enough, I did not manage to find any song from that period that would personalise Ljubljana to the extent, for instance, as are by use of personal pronouns personalised Zagreb and Beograd. Could it be the legacy of them having the history or mythology of the capital, a metropolis? Ivo Robić, one of the first Yugoslavian music performers who made it abroad, sings about Zagreb: ‘Vraćam se Zagrebe tebi, tebi na obale Save/Vraćam se Zagrebe tebi, tebi pod zidine stare’. Through reference to its position on the banks of the river Sava and evoking imagery of old city walls, the link to the past is established. For the city bears heavy marks of the past, it is also implied that ‘he’, as a silent witness of history, bears certain knowledge. The city is the place that despite perpetual development and changes, still retains the scent of the old, at least in reminiscence. This knowledge, of course, can be accessed and revealed by historical research, but what such research misses, are the stories that are only available to the one that was there. As Robić sings: ‘Mnoge tajne gornjeg grada/svaka klupa pivat zna/Mnoge tajne gornjeg grada/u tvojem krilu želim ja’. (Another thing that seems to present important part of the city are parks. Excessive materiality of stone and concrete is intersected by patches of still highly stylised, cultivated patches of green. Tereza Kesovija sings: ‘Parkovi, parkovi, vi ste srca moga grada/Vi ste tiha gnijezda i mirni sati hlada/dok u vama se kriju zadnje ptice grada/Vi ste poslije podne i predah jednog dana/jer sigurni su vaši zidovi od grana’, cherishing the value of green that allows for last traces of nature to survive and enable the citizen to cope with concrete reality.) As for Beograd is concerned, both as the capital of Serbia and as the capital of SFRY, it had an important role in the life of the state and on international scene as well. In the song ‘Beograde’ sang by Đorđe Marjanović, Beograd is portrayed as a city ‘na ušču dveju reka ispod Avale/već vekovima čuvaš beo lik’. The position at the confluence of Sava and the river Danube map the city into the network of physically connected cities. It is, again, the origin in the indiscernable past that endows the city with trans-temporality, depicted in ‘za tebe, ko da stoji vreme, ti živiš srcem uvek mlad’. Additionally, the song ‘Moj dragi Beograde’, sang by Lola Novaković, positions the city within and above the network of European cities. For she has been to Prague and London, to Athens and to Rome, she has seen luxury and wealth, but ‘nigde nigde ne pronađoh/to što ima moj voljeni grad/moj beograd srce ima/i u srcu ljubav čistu’. Zagreb and Beograd appear almost as a mysterious friend or a love object whose existence is rooted in the glorious past. Ljubljana, on the other hand, through apparently more individualised references to the past gives the impression of a phase in the process.
Nevertheless, these cities are connected through the passing of time, just as much as they are linked by the flow of rivers. Most of the songs taken into consideration are significantly marked by the consequences of temporal corrosivity. Although in reality the city figures as a permanency in action, it is the world of the song that is heavily imbued by the often romanticised past of the city, either collective or personal, the past that actually never was. In its trans-temporality the song renders the imaginary worlds accessible and inhabitable to a wide variety of highly individualised intimate experiences thus set in a universal framework.
If these rather optimistic adorations of the city were characteristic for the late 1950s and up until early 1970s, the spectre was beginning to change in the late 1960s. The generation change was reflected in performers and audiences, and as well politicians. People that grew up with this kind of music eventually came of age, and subsequent generations practiced different musical tastes, rendering the old ones obsolete, although far from being forgotten. Besides, it was the ever greater quantity and availability of different musical genres and ways of expression, that facilitated inevitable fragmentation of audiences and dispersion of contents, creation of subcultures. Concomitantly, fusion and invention of new genres and styles followed.
Late 1970s saw the rise of new social movements, from pacifists, gay movements, environmentalists, which in the light of growing instability of the state and the death of Tito, became the tools of cultural elites to politicaly articulate their discontent. Although opposing views in the politics led to ever greater nationalisation of Yugoslav cultural and political space, yu-rock became a trans-national forum for expression of discontent with contemporaneous state-of-things that Yugoslavia found itself in.
This collapse of the Yugoslav dream resulted in redefinition of the city that as the sight of opportunities into the sight of oppresive atmosphere. Although Đorđe Balašević sings in ‘Tri put sam video Tita’: ‘I ja sam video visoke peči/fabrike dim, široke njive/gradove što, slobodni žive/decu i mir, i jatu ptica’, praising the achievements of the regime, it must nevertheless be taken into account, that the song was written soon after Tito`s death. In the song ‘Jesen’, on the other hand, Videosex sing the contrary: ‘Grad je mrtav, gledam hladne ulice/Kiša pada tako mračno je vse/Sama sam izgubljena u mislima/Sivo-siva, sivo-siva jesen je tu’. What is telling enough is singing about autmn and portraying the cold lifeless city, depriving the songscape of sun and optimism. And what is more, the city at night became oversaturated with cold neon lights, the buzzing sound of which invade the privacy of home and thought. As the lines show: ‘Neonska reklama,/Ispod moga prozora/Svako veće osvetljava ulicu/Zelena i crvena boja/Razlivena po sobi […] A misli mi odnosi taj prokleti zvuk reklame’. However, in relation to attempt to modernisation in the light of deteriorating economy and changing international situation of the 1980s, escapism is apparent. The lines: ‘San je moj, ne želim da stojim u redovima/Hoću barem malo američkog sna’, reflect the orientation towards the idealised image of the West that looked even more a techni-colour dream, when compared to domestic reality. An interesting read offers the song ‘Vozi me vlak v daljave’ that was originaly recorded in the 1960s. However, Videosex did a cover version in 1986 with the same lyrics albeit music pattern a bit modified. In the original, the lines: ‘Vozi me vlak v daljave/Daleč tja v širni svet/Glej, zdaj se zde planjave/Vse ko en sam pisan cvet’, can be read in the context of innumerous opportunities that lay beyond one`s home, town, city, and that could be realised in the world of peace and plenty. It seems that this was quite wide-spread optimistic view in that period, at least in retrospect. In the 1980s however, these same lines can be understood as, on one hand, leaving the machine de surveillance for the pristine nature just outside the city, epithomised in: ‘Reke, polja in gore/Urno mimo nas hite’. On the other hand, it offers the impression of leaving the state, regime, the town and country in order to go abroad, to Europe: ‘Vozi me vlak v daljave/tja zdaj želi si, tja zdaj želi si srce/tja misli mi hite.’
The imagery of the city, thus, is highly disenchanted. As the Zagreb-based group Aerodrom was stating: ‘Pogledaj tu gomilu kretena bez sluha/Zuje kao roj onih zelenih govnarskih muha/Pogledajte janičare duha, što preziru provinciju/Koja ih odhranila prvom korom kruha’. The city is as a home of corruption and incompetence, opportunism and klientelism feeds itself on neglect and exploitation of rural areas, where majority of citizens originate. Additionally, Pankrti sang in ‘Lublana je bulana’: ‘Lublana ma pet občin/največja je Šiška/pol je Center/pol so Moste […] Na Viču so še kmetje/v Mostah so delavci/kmetje delajo na polju/delavci v tovarnah.’ Hence, Ljubljana, although divided in distinct city municipalities, along which very local identities were formed, is still quite far from being urban centre. Moreover, Aerodrom in the same song sing: ‘Ubija me taj, kvazi-intelektualni smrad/Koji prodaju Zagreb, Ljubljana i Beograd’ and finish in resignation: ‘I što sad, i što sad/Budi prljavi đanki, budi frigidni peder, budi gori od svih/Sve je bolje, nego da si jedan, jedan od njih’. The city figures also as a place of devalued interpersonal relationship, as an ant-hill of alienated passers-by that do not know anything about their co-citizens. Zagreb-based Film thus sing: ‘Tisuču kola na ulici/I plavi neon sjaj/To nije ljubav, to nije mržnja/Osječam samo prazninu’, evoking images of partially fulfilled dreams of possessing material object and a place in the city, but, in exchange, losing the warmth of co-existence. Similar depiction is given in the lyrics of Beograd-based band Bezobrazno zeleno. In the song ‘Beograd’ they sing about great white city with great white people, counterpoised in the next stanza by the following lines: ‘Velik sivi grad/ludaci i narkomani/siledžije i naučnici/veliki sivi grad/to je moj grad Beograd’. Again, the city life is on the decline, without much perspective, as the city becomes a great deidealised pot of co-existing and clashing life-styles. Also present is the clash between the urban and the rural, that is, the consequences of always present link of the city to the country, caught in the lines: ‘Miris kupusa iz podruma/i rakije iz usta/moj veliki otac/i moja velika majka/to je moj grad Beograd.’ One of the more poetic accounts of the city in yu-rock is the song ‘Ljudi iz gradova’ performed by Belgrade-based band Ekatarina Velika. Apparently sang from the outskirts of the city, the song conveys images of people neither within nor without. ‘Priđi bliže i pogledaj dobro/Kuda vode ovi tragovi/Tamo svetla gore u noči/I ta su svetla naši gradovi’, portray the city as a place to be, where there is light in the dark. However, even though ‘Svako svetlo je jedan stan/U stanu krevet stol i stolice’ gives the expected interior of a thousands of supposedly identical flats, it is through the line: ‘Plavo svetlo preko plavih lica/I plavi svet iz plave kutije’ that those people are portrayed as detached from each other, only alive in the light of TV set that immobilises them in their existence. What is more, ‘Ljudi iz gradova’ are perceived as substantially different: ‘Dali možeš prepoznati govor/Govor ljudi iz gradova/Dali možeš prepoznati lica/Lica ljudi iz gradova’, even incomprehensible.
Tia DeNora states, that the ‘most common metaphor for musical experience in post-nineteenth-century Western culture is the metaphor of “transport”, in the sense of being carried from one (emotional) place to another.‘ Although she derives this analogy from a slightly different context, it still applies well to this analysis. It also applies to songs` contemporaneity, either as a means for the journey towards future or idealised past or, nevertheless, as a vehicle to escape from the burden of the present, to ‘sing the way out of it’. Indeed, music can bring about memories and evoke images of times and places we have/will never seen. Especially popular music can have quite a universal but still very intimate appeal. It is the relationship between the words and melody, where different words fit the same musical pattern that render it arbitrary and contingent to reality and widely applicable and interpretable.
However, this selection represents a very small part of cities singing songs. The songs from the earlyer period of Yugoslav era generally give an impression of a sunny Sunday afternoon. Life of course was not such alltogether. The fact is that the medium of music, popevka type of popular song in particular, did not allow for as much of resistence and contestation as the subsequent variegation of genres and diversification of the sphere of popular culture. Thus, for instance, the abolition of the tram in Ljubljana soon after the World War II that changed the city infrastructure and considerably altered the cityscape, to my knowledge did not find immediate place in popular music. Also, the ring road built in the early 1970s that cut and deformed the city promenade leading from the centre to the Tivoli. The underpass was built that became a scar in the cityscape and soon assumed the reputation of a place where one can get robbed, bullied, where ‘juvenile delinquents’ make graffitti.
The impression given by the songs from the 1980s, on the other hand, is just as well only a part of a wider and more complex socio-political situation that was not at all that noir. Still, there might be a correlation between the deformation(s) of the city and the imagery transmitted through the lyrics. The selection reflects the fragmentation of Yugoslav society and culture in the light of changing generations and permeability of boundaries. Nevertheless, the political actions and the downhill of economy that were predominantly designed in and conducted from the cities, too, contributed to these processes. The selection also hints at the problems the post-World War II high-paced modernisation and concomitant urbanisation initiated but ended in a sort of un idle run. The music of the 1980s expresses also the wider feel of disillusion that significantly informed the last two decades of twentieth century, when ‘meta-narratives’ became questioned and deconstructed.
Barber-Kersovan, Alenka, “Tradition and Acculturation as Polarities of Slovenian Popular Music” in Simon Firth, World Music, Politics and Social Change: Papers from the International Association for the Study of Popular Music, (Manchester University Press, Manchester, 1989), p. 73– 89.
Chion, Michel, Glasba v filmu, (Imago, Ljubljana, 2000)
Dragičević-Šešić, Milena, Neofolk kultura, publika i njene zvezde, (Izdavačka knjižara Zorana Stojanovića Sremski Karlovci, Novi Sad, 1994)
DeNora, Tia, Music in Everyday Life, (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2000)
Dolenc, Ervin, ‘Culture, Politics, and Slovene Identity’ in Jill Benderey and Evan Kreft (eds.), Independent Slovenia: Origins, Movements and Prospects, (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1994), pp. 69-90.
Janjatović, Petar, Pesme bratstva i detinjstva, antologija rok poezije SFR Jugoslavije 1967-1991, (Nova, Beograd, 1994)
Laušević, Mirjana, “The Ilahiya and Bosnian Muslim Identity” in Mark Slobin (ed.), Retuning Culture, Musical Changes in Cental and Eastern Europe, (Duke University Press, Durham and London, 1996), pp. 117-135.
Lefebvre, Henri, Writings on Cities, (Blackwell, Oxford, 1996)
Milčinski, Fran, Butalci, (Mladinska knjiga, Ljubljana, 1964)
Ramet, Sabrina P., “Shake, Rattle and Self-Management: Making the Scene in Yugoslavia” in S. P. Ramet, Rocking the State: Rock Music and Politics in Eastern Europe and Russia, (Westview Press, Boulder, CO and Oxford, 1994), pp. 103-132.
Ramet, Sabrina P., Balkan Babel, (Westview Press, Boulder, CO and Oxford, 2002)
Simić, Andrei, The Peasant Urbanites. A Study of Rural-Urban Mobility in Serbia, (Seminar Press, London and New York, 1973)
Stankovič, Peter, “Uporabe ‘Balkana’: Rock in nacionalizem v Sloveniji v devetdesetih letih”, Teorija in praksa, let. 39, 2/2002, pp. 220-238, p. 226-228.
Aerodrom, “Zagreb, Ljubljana, Beograd”
Balašević, Đorđe, “Tri put sam video Tita”
Bele vrane, “Na vrhu Nebotičnika”
Bele vrane, “Šuštarski most”
Bezobrazno zeleno, “Beograd”, LP Artistička radna akcija, 1981, reprinted in Janjatović, 1994.
Deržaj, Marjana, ‘Vozi me vlak v daljave’;
Deržaj, Marjana, “V Ljubljano”
Ekatarina Velika, “Ljudi iz Gradova”, Ljubav,
Film, “Zagreb je hladan grad”, LP Zona sumraka, 1982, reprinted in Janjatović, 1994.
Grupa 220, “Kule od riječi”, LP Rođenje, 1974, reprinted in Janjatović, 1994.
Kesovija, Tereza, “Parkovi”, www.terezakesovija.com; [accessed 08/03/05]
Marjanović, Đorđe, “Beograde”
Pankrti, “Lublana je bulana”,
Robić, Ivo, “Zagreb, Zagreb”, http://drugafaza.com/tekstovi/index.htm, [accessed 08/03/05]
Videosex, ‘Vozi me vlak v daljave’, Videosex Arhiv, Dallas Records, 1997
Videosex, “Jesen”, Videosex Arhiv, Dallas Records, 1997
Videosex, “Neonska reklama”, Videosex Arhiv, Dallas Records, 1997
1. Grupa 220, “Kule od riječi/Fortresses made of words”; [Distant cities/We`d like to know/Cities made of song/Distant cities].
2. Mirjana Laušević, “The Ilahiya and Bosnian Muslim Identity” in Mark Slobin (ed.), Retuning Culture, Musical Changes in Cental and Eastern Europe, (Duke University Press, Durham and London, 1996), pp. 117-135, p. 118-20.
3. Alenka Barber-Kersovan, “Tradition and Acculturation as Polarities of Slovenian Popular Music” in Simon Firth (ed.), World Music, Politics and Social Change: Papers from the International Association for the Study of Popular Music, (Manchester University Press, Manchester, 1989), p. 73– 89. p. 75.
4. Peter Stankovič, “Uporabe ‘Balkana’: Rock in nacionalizem v Sloveniji v devetdesetih letih”, Teorija in praksa, let. 39, 2/2002, pp. 220-238, p. 226-228. See also Sabrina P. Ramet, Balkan Babel, (Westview Press, Boulder, CO and Oxford, 2002), “Rock Mucic”, pp. 127-150; “Shake, Rattle and Self-Management: Making the Scene in Yugoslavia” in S. P. Ramet, Rocking the State: Rock Music and Politics in Eastern Europe and Russia, (Westview Press, Boulder, CO and Oxford, 1994), pp. 103-132.
5. Andrei Simić, The Peasant Urbanites. A Study of Rural-Urban Mobility in Serbia, (Seminar Press, London and New York, 1973), p. 17.
6. Ibid, p. 11.
7. Henri Lefebvre, Writings on Cities, (Blackwell, Oxford, 1996), p. 101.
8. “Internacionala”; [The world is changing from foundations/We are nothing, we`ll be everything].
9. Marjana Deržaj, “V Ljubljano/Going to Ljubljana”; [Our little car is still too small/In order to fit us all/So let me sit on the roof/You sit on the roof/And let him sit on the roof].
10. Ibid., [We`re going to Ljubljana/There are beautiful streets/And on the streets there are pretty girls].
11. Ibid., “V Ljubljano/Going to Ljubljana”; [We shall dance all night/White Ljubljana is never asleep, oh no].
12. Ervin Dolenc, “Culture, Politics, and Slovene Identity” in Independent Slovenia: Origins, Movements and Prospects, ed. by Jill Benderey and Evan Kreft (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1994), pp. 69-90, p. 85.
13. See Alenka Barber-Kersovan, “Tradition and Acculturation as Polarities of Slovenian Popular Music”, p. 73– 89.
14. Bele vrane, “Šuštarski most/The Shoemaker`s Bridge”; [In Ljubljana by the Ljubljanica/One finds what one looks for].
16. Ibid., [Across the Shoemaker`s bridge/Left to the City Square/Right to the Old Square/To find memories and youth/Across the Shoemaker`s bridge].
17. Ibid., [A small terrace, Ljubljana below/So small, we could take away/Little white houses in an apron].
18. Ibid., [We went to the small terrace/Above wide Ljubljana].
19. Bele vrane, “Na vrhu Nebotičnika/On top of Nebotičnik”; [Close to the sun and blue skies]; [Let`s forget that our room is too small and too sad for the two of us].
20. Ivo Robić, “Zagreb, Zagreb”; [I`m coming back to you, my Zagreb, on the banks of the Sava/I`m coming back to you, my Zagreb, to you under the ancient walls].
21. Ibid., “Zagreb, Zagreb”; [Of plenty of secrets of the uptown/Any bench can sing/Plenty of secrets of uptown/I long for in your shelter].
22. Tereza Kesovija, “Parkovi/Parks”; [Parks, oh, parks, of my city you are hearts/You`re silent nests and freshness` peaceful hours/In the afternoon, you are the day`s repose/Safely behind branch walls].
23. Đorđe Marjanović, “Beograde”; [At the confluence of the two rivers under Avala/For ages you have kept your white].
24. Ibid., [It seems, for you the time had stopped, your heart is always young].
25. Lola Novaković, “Moj dragi Beograde/My Dear Belgrade”; [Nowhere have I found/What my city has got/My Belgrade has a heart/And it`s the heart of pure love].
26. See Milena Dragičević-Šešić, Neofolk kultura, publika i njene zvezde, (Izdavačka knjižara Zorana Stojanovića Sremski Karlovci, Novi Sad, 1994), p. 12-23; See also Alenka Barber – Kersovan, p. 86-87.
27. Đorđe Blašević, “Tri put sam video Tita/I`ve Seen Tito Three Times” ;[And I saw high chimneys/Factory`s smoke, wide fields/Cities that live in fredom/Children and peace/And a flock of birds].
28. Videosex “Jesen/Autmn”, Videosex Arhiv, (Dallas Records, 1997); [The city`s dead, I see cold streets/It`s raining and it`s so dark/Alone, I`m lost in my thoughts/Greyish-grey, greyish-grey is the autmn here].
29. Videosex, “Neonska reklama/Neon Sign”, [Neon sign/Under my window/Every evening it lights up the street/Green and red/spilled in the room … The sound of the neon sign take away my thoughts].
30. Videosex, “Jesen”, [The dream is mine/I don`t want to wait in line/I want at least some of the American dream].
31. Marjana Deržaj, “Vozi me vlak v daljave/Train takes me far”; Videosex, “Vozi me vlak v daljave”; [Train takes me far/Into the wide world/Look, the plains seem as a coloured blossom].
32. Ibid., [Rivers, fields and mountains/swiftly pass us by].
33. Ibid., [The train takes me far/That`s where my heart wants to go/There my thoughts take me].
34. Aerodrom, “Zagreb, Ljubljana, Beograd”, [Look at that pile of idiots/They drone like a swarm of shit-flies/Look at them, janissories of the mind, that despise the province/That fed them the first slice of bread].
35. Pankrti, “Lublana je bulana/Sick Ljubljana”; [In Ljubljana there`s five communities/the largest is Šiška/Then is the Centre/and Moste … In Vič, they are still peasants/In Moste there are workers/Peasants work in the fields/Workers in factories].
36. This is especially interesting in light of a satiric depiction of the Slovenes by Fran Milčinski in Butalci. “A three hour walk after the Carnival Sunday, there lays a village, it is called a town. In the middle of the village, a brown puddle it is called a brook. On either sides of the brook there stand cottages, they are called them houses. Two or three hoses have got floors, such houses are called mansions.” Fran Milčinski, Butalci, (Mladinska knjiga, Ljubljana, 1964), p. 5.
37. Aerodrom, “Zagreb, Ljubljana, Beograd”; [It`s killing me, this quasi-intellectual stench/That Zagreb, Ljubljana and Belgrade spread]; [So what to do now/Be a filthy junkie, be a frigid queer/Be worse of them all/Anything is better than to be one of them].
38. Film, “Zagreb je hladan grad/Zagreb is a Cold City”; [Thousands cars in the street/And blue neon glow/That`s not love, it`s neither hatered/I only feel the void].
39. Bezobrazno zeleno, “Beograd”, LP Artistička radna akcija, 1981, reprinted in Janjatović, 1994; [Great grey city/Lunatics and drug addicts/siledžije and scientists/Great grey city/That`s my city Belgrade].
40. Ibid., [Smell of cabbage from the cellar/Of rakija from the mouth/My great father/And my great mother/That`s my city Belgrade].
41. Ekatarina Velika, “Ljudi iz Gradova/People from the Cities”, Ljubav, [Come closer, take a good look/Where these traces lead/There lights glow in the night/And these lights are our cities].
42. Ibid., [Every light is one flat/In the flat there`s a bed, a table and chairs].
43. Ibid., [Blue lights accros blue faces/Blue world from the blue box].
44. Ibid., [Can you recognise the speach/The speech of the people from the city/Can you recognise the faces/Faces of the people from the city].
45. Tia DeNora, Music in Everyday Life, (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2000), p. 7.
46. Michel Chion, Glasba v filmu, (Imago, Ljubljana, 2000), p. 196-7.