Review Summary: From Croatia with love.
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The sweet distant 70s and the rough-cut 80s, and the conveniently dysfunctional Europe at the time. What would we have done without your problematic lives that spawned out a hellscape full of frustrated, but often also optimistic fresh young underground musical talents? When you think of underground punk and rock music you probably don’t really focus on the god-forsaken lands of Croatia, but that is exactly the birthplace of Azra, the ever exuberant superstar of Zagreb.
One specific trait this bunch of overly excited southerners has is the fact that their music sounds paradoxically enough like both typical pop-rock of that era and a snarky, sarcastic punk prototype people still toyed with. That and their funny language gives them a certain exotic vibe that is difficult to escape and impossible to erase from memory. So at the same time they can sound like a tad more happy-go-lucky Velvet Underground, but then suddenly dip their toes into full-on New Model Army starry-eyed faux-leather-jacket toting syrup.
And if ethnic exotica that turns standard rock into a baggage of guitar-wielding craze, but still ends up warm and calming, isn’t enough to sway your frozen hearts, then how about albums that can entertain on a long runtime？ This album absolutely does that. It goes on for one and a half hour, for crying out loud and dancing out right. But in spite of the exaggerated runtime, it still manages to drench in quality that grips and doesn’t let go.
A lodgeful of impressionable kids jamming a songbook of catchiness 101 for the advanced in sunburning land of sea urchins drying on the beaches and asses of overweight sandal-rocking German tourists, that was the deal. And that was the album, except sans the beaches, because Zagreb is in deep plains, but the weather there stinks of two seasides anyway. And in the end, what more punk than that? Enduring a brutality of life, frustration and bad weather in a horrid country, trying to stay positive and produce quality music to brighten up someone’s day. Well, more pop than punk, but these lads were punks in their hearts.
