My brother Drale and l became artists,
as Pushkin said, as kids of middle-class teachers,
unlike most rock musicians in Tito's Yugoslavia,
who were usually children of army officers or secret service agents.
With R&R, Tito proved we're not Bulgaria or Romania.
Drale and l proved that Pushkin was right.
Gangway!
Get up.
l like music in which
soul, passion and pain are central.
Everything that comes from emotion. Like reggae and the blues.
That rhythm really appeals to me, even though
it's a very calm music, it's soothing,
and l'm someone very impulsive.
Still, it somehow appeals to me.
Later, when l moved to Belgrade,
l felt uneasy seeing some phony reggae band,
trying to copy
the black Jamaican sound, which is another world
and has nothing to do with where we live.
l discovered the bistros.
This is where l heard gypsy music
which, in a way, is our blues.
C'mon, son.
What is it, brother?
These are my brothers.
lDs out! Knives and guns on the table.
Let's get our lDs out. But l have no papers.
Don't you say good evening first?
They already said it.
How are you, gentlemen? l'm fine, and you?
What is this, a raid? What is this?
Wow, machine guns! The works!
- Your papers. - Excuse me?
- Good evening. - Good evening.
Lots of people think l go bistros to screw around.
Sure, but l also pick up things, some new rhythm,
some new tricks for our gigs.
Our concerts use doubles, rumbas,
rhythms we hear in the bistros.
l scored! l scored!
Let's go.
Don't want to go home?
- What? - No.
Why not?
Because l'm having fun.
Well, let me tell you something...
You're soaked.
- So what! - What?
So what!
We're going home.
- Please, no! - What?
- Don't want to go home? - No.
Go home!
Let me see your tears.
Shit, he has to bug me even when he interviews me.
Unbelievable!
l like going to the library in Belgrade, like my dad.
When my dad's in Belgrade, he goes to the library.
He really relaxes there.
Your father carries books around with him.
l don't need the library.
When we lived in the French countryside,
l'd listen to and copy Sly Dunbar,
Copeland, Barrett.
When l came to Belgrade and met Ceda,
l forgot the others because Ceda and l had the same musical feeling.
So where's the brandy?
Sit down, Nele. Here it comes!
- You play. - Reminds me of Steve Gedd.
But it's not Steve Gedd. lt's us.
Sure, it's us.
Do it again.
Ah, double kick.
You can recognize his style...
on every album, even when he plays folk,
with its simple doubles.
The point of any art,
apart from expressing your emotions
and saying what you want to,
is to do everything in a special way.
Do l only crack one end?
You have to do both ends.
That won't work.
Action!
Cut!
l'll do only the top.
Goddammit! l'll try the other end.
May Hitler fuck his mother!
Cover the gentleman up, please.
Your hand should appear suddenly.
Speed!
60, take 4!
- Come for your final pay later. - Please, no!
We decided to create a rehearsal studio in the cellar.
We had connections, my father being president of the tenants' council.
Before that, we'd rehearse in my flat.
So it was in his interest to give us authorization.
Building the space, which we called ''Oblivion,''
began in March 1980.
I was just a kid at the time
I didn't know why peopIe were crying
I toId myseIf, I'II get in for free
Find a seat somewhere and cheer
I waIked by the guard
He just Iit his cigarette and said:
''Go on in and don't be afraid.''
''Nobody wiII touch you today, kid.''
I sat somewhere in the crowd
And I heard it buzz:
''Asim Ferhatovic is retiring today''
''Our Hase is retiring today!''
Let's see those fIares!
The Sunday Hase Ieft!
The construction lasted 2 months.
We used modern soundproofing methods.
We stole material from nearby construction sites,
to make the baffles: cardboard-Styrofoam-cardboard.
And, of course, we used those boxes...
what do you call it?... that stuff they put eggs into.
- l know what you mean. - But what's it called?
Everyone, attack! Everyone, attack!
Hase is the one!
Everyone, attack! Everyone, attack!
Hase is the one!
Yugoslavia!
- You tore its tail off? - lt'll grow a new one.
Now his legs are gonna grow...
- What'd you do to it? - Nothing.
What'd you do to the lizard?
Tore its tail off! Look at it!
- What'd you do? - l tore its tail off.
What'll happen to it?
lt'll grow a new one. A bigger one.
''A bigger and older one.''
The happiest day in my life
was when l finished military service.
But then came the saddest:
l started working in a watch factory.
l didn't know which was worse: getting up at 6 in the morning
to do a job l didn't like or not doing what l wanted.
l looked at the machines as if they were instruments.
l never felt like a worker. l wanted to play and l did.
My father's father was very rich.
He sold opium for medical purposes before WW2.
He was the richest man in Veles.
Then the communists came and took everything from him.
So my father had no choice but to go to war.
After the war, he continued to serve
as an officer in the Yugoslav Army.
Years later, when l was about 5,
he bought a piano.
l finished music school and wanted to continue playing.
l started playing bass guitar.
People always ask me:
How come you never learned to play lead guitar?
The guitar
is too much of an instrument on which you go like this...
''Hurray! Let's go!''
Like this guy, for instance. The bass is a cool instrument.
You go something like... ''Good day.''
Maybe from time to time, your eyebrow goes like this.
Look at Glava! A Cher lookalike!
l forgot the beer.
Glava, why so loud? Turn it down.
- l'm only on 4. - Turn it down to 3, goddammit!
What's wrong?
- My shoulder. - Your shoulder?
- l dislocated it. - What the fuck?
- What'll we do? - Stall for me. l'll go fix it.
Give me the bass.
- Back on stage, Nele! - You gotta play, man.
Keep gabbing. Glava dislocated his shoulder.
What's going on?
Harder! Harder!
ls it OK?
No. C'mon, harder.
lf we could get some ice...
He dislocated his shoulder.
Are you OK? Let's go, then.
What happened to you?
l don't know. My guitar was out of tune.
- What's the problem? - l don't know.
l fucked up. l tuned Emir's guitar and mine. l was tuning for 7 songs.
No matter. Let's do the encore.
We're a little tired. lt has to be better tomorrow.
Well, OK we played and all...
But you were...
He had a stomach ache.
Nesa played so-so. lt had some fire but not much...
Explain it to me after you calm down a bit.
Why was l so bad?
The result is terrific.
- What'd l do wrong? - You gave less than usual.
lt's not true.
- Sorry, you're wrong. - Then maybe l'm depressed.
- But when l play badly... - So sorry, Nesa.
ln that case, l play badly every time.
- No, brother. - No way, it's not true.
l didn't play any worse than usual.
Balaban...
What happened to you?
A stomach ache. l started sweating. l couldn't find the toilet...
Nesa, you played OK... but...
Don't create a bad mood. l'm not doing that.
- OK, sorry, l fucked up. - The mood's not good.
The audience was great.
Everything was fine. But when this happens...
See how it is when there's no tuner?
People, you gotta buy a tuner.
We're all unstable.
When things aren't running as they should,
everything falls apart.
Don't get mad, Nesa.
lt's the impression l had. Sorry.
Some impression!
Assholes!
Glava, how are you feeling? When did your shoulder go out?
When l tried to turn down the amplifier.
Why aren't there backup guitars? We're such geeks.
Nesa, l'm not saying you...
Personally l wasn't insulted. lf you'd given all you had...
Even when you're playing at your lowest level,
you're way above the best planetary average.
But l know, when you started...
you were also next to Coce and following his guitar which was...
- out of tune. - Well, yes.
Explain it to the cameraman...
This a parliamentary discussion after a very successful show.
Mama!
C'mon, let's see who's stronger.
There's a mirror behind you.
Watch the window.
Close that window.
What's wrong with you two?
You attacked me. l had to use your weight against you.
You threw your 100 kilos at me.
- He's just fucking around. - l know.
l'm supposed to let you throw me?
Didn't you charge at me?
All l could do was use your weight against you.
God, l'm fucking strong.
Besides the artistic experiments,
and the exhibitions,
we did plays for a while.
We did sketches which later became...
Know what you did in the ''Oblivion''? This...
Any beer around?
Go to hell!
Our sketches became the ''Surreal Top List'' TV show.
There are two kinds of funerals: city and country funerals.
When we play at country funerals,
we see kettles smoking,
pork, lambs turning on a spit. Which means...a good lunch.
Their soups were the tastiest.
They never skimp on a funeral.
Whatever price you say, they agree.
But you can't charge too much for 10-15 minutes of work.
ln the city... it's like America. You wear shades.
''Good day, good day.'' No priest, no nothing.
Speeches in front of the town hall.
You play.
The crypt is concrete. They close the lid and everyone leaves.
Sometimes they organize a very modest lunch
in some rented restaurant.
But usually we don't attend them. lt's modest, as l said.
lt's not worth it. You take your 20 DM and...
You get used to it. l cried in the beginning.
lt's not easy going to funerals every day. lt's not normal.
l thought of quitting, but you gotta make a living.
lt used to be well paid.
When you ask a peasant how far the cemetery is,
and he says 1 .5 kms, you know it's twice as far.
lt's a strain. To get back down afterwards, we take
a tractor, horse or wagon,
depending on how they brought the body.
Then we put the tuba, drum and heavier instruments on the wagon,
climb on ourselves and come back down.
Then we wait for the priest to come and light the candle,
and then we can eat.
The roof of the house is finished. The ground floor is finished.
My mother, father and brother will live here.
And l have a 90 sq. meters upstairs.
Paneling, tiles and all.
When we play at weddings
and we go through villages,
we say: l played at a funeral here. l've been to a funeral there...
l know all the cemeteries around Banja Luka city.
On the tuba, from the Srpska Republic...
Fake eating it, Drale, or you'll get sick.
C'mon, everybody out now.
Don't turn so soon.
lf we do it at the same time, it's the clash of titans.
Stop, Zoki! lf you make me cry l'll beat you up.
As a patient, l know it's a form of paranoid delusions.
The type of disease which some shrinks
like Petar Bokun and others say will be
the most common disease on earth, in cities especially.
When l'm back in the city's roar,
the brain-crunching starts.
The first signs of paranoia came in Sarajevo, and then Belgrade.
This state, especially when l'm not playing, gets worse.
This state of brain-crunching...
When we play, l feel like a musician should: relaxed.
The concerts were very successful. We played Portugal, Spain, France.
Anyway, l took a sedative in Portugal during the tour,
as we agreed. And, doctor, to be honest,
my condition's improved. l even think more clearly
because l move around a lot. Lots of concerts, lots of cities,
lots of countries, and all in all,
in my opinion as a patient, l'm in a state of remission.
Hello, doctor.
Hello, Drazen. Sit down.
How are you, Drazen?
There's been a big change in Nele.
lt's not so much that he craves money now,
but he can treat his family to more pleasures.
Like taking his daughter
to riding lessons. lnstructing her
in modeling, because she's clearly going to be a model.
Well done. For your room. When Mama sees it...
ln the opinion of Nele's brother,
Nele's family is nouveau riche. l mean, really...
Finally, the Queen Mother, l mean our mother came and said:
Goodness! A flat without a piano!
Chico, fuck you!
What's this? The end of the show?
Yes, it is.
Well, play the music!
We did the sketch not only because we think
and are politically literate. We simply had a certain fear.
Sadly, reality was always worse than what we showed
on ''Surreal Top List.''
The irony of the sketch was even greater
when the war began in '92.
My parents stayed in their flat.
The Bosnian Muslim police came and asked my father
for all the playscripts l'd written.
Among other things they found my script, ''Sarajevo Wall''.
This was vital evidence that l took part
in the dismemberment of what was then called Sarajevo.
Why are you throwing that? Stop!
You're throwing things.
You threw things at us yesterday.
Look who's throwing things!
What'd you say?
Fuck your TV show.
C'mon, Rambo.
Stop it!... Rambo!
Hamo!
My friend! Not in Sweden?
No, l stayed here.
Guys, it's Rambo!
How are you, Rambo?
Hamo?
Come for a drink.
- Let's go to our bar. - Come over to our side.
Our waitress is something.
Let's go to our bar.
Our bar's cheaper.
Won't come? Fuck your bar!
Kill the bastard!
Kill him!
Produced by TV Sarajevo, 1991
And when pigs quarrel?
Enough.
What's he yelling about?
The kid'll develop a heart murmur.
lt all goes back to my grandfather,
who was in an army band and who crossed
the Thessaloniki front in WW1 with tuba and double bass
because they had to play several instruments and carry a gun.
l was surprised to learn we were to play on the same stage
with the best sax player
and guitarist in jazz today:
Pat Metheny and Michael Brecker.
lt's hard to play on guitar.
The brass phrases have to be played by the guitarist.
lt's bebop. Guitarists who learn this
play superbly. lt's Charlie Parker's way of thinking.
l saw the movie, ''New York, New York'', which l like less now.
But there was Robert de Niro playing sax with such enthusiasm,
that l fell in love with the instrument.
l told my father:
l gotta play the sax. He hoped it was just a passing whim
but he taught me to play the scales.
Within six months, he was amazed to find l was good
and already playing in some clubs.
Jazz, which is dead, as Miles Davis said,
is looking for new temptations
in order to survive as it had before.
What we played at the jazz festival in Nice
was an entirely new shot in the arm and a big surprise for the audience,
besides the fact that this music at heart isn't jazz.
But it has improvisations,
energy, instrumental parts, different ethno elements,
which exist in modern jazz.
lt was put together skillfully and we did great.
We don't have carrots for the snowman.
For the nose. And a pot for a hat. And a broom.
l'm trapped. He trapped me.
Are we going to play now? A game?
The blinking guy you lifted, that prick in lceland...
You grabbed him like this. Think you can lift me?
- l'll throw you like this. - Not on your life!
Don't fuck with me.
He tried lifting me like the lceland guy.
l'll throw you when l want.
- No way! Want to wrestle? - No.
Well, don't fuck around.
l have to play the gig. Look what he's done to me.
Look at this!
That was when you grabbed my foot.
And this, when you tried to pull free.
What do you want now? Tell me, what?
Nothing. Obviously, l'm not going to throw you. l really can't.
Don't lie to me.
You're my father. l can't throw you.
He wants to crush me like a mosquito. You can't.
Must l swear on my sister's head?
Swear on your sister's head? You tried to grab me...
l can't take this aggressiveness.
l can't knock you down in front of everyone.
You saw him charge me: all 100 kilos with 8 motors.
That's why you flew by over there.
- Who flew by? - You did.
l grabbed you like this.
Tell me, when someone grabs you like this...
You couldn't, so l tore your shirt.
What a vain narcissist you are!
Hello.
l brought her for a checkup.
- Just turn her on her side. - This side?
- Has it healed? - You can't see the scars now.
Chico, fuck you.
Where the hell's the guard?
Shall we do this interview? Sit down.
What'd he say? Four minutes?
- Let me think... - Don't think. Just do l as l do.
ln English?
That's right.
For France?
lt's like a big meadow with thousands of flowers.
Wherever a new seed is from, it grows here.
At tonight's concert, you'll see what a nice bouquet that makes.
l talk about the flowers?
You and your goddam flowers!
Give them an analytical, social, historical perspective.
l can't.
Get the fuck out of here!
No cursing, please.
That's enough.
Why drink if you feeI bad? Who'II take you home?
l made my first accordion case myself.
l didn't have another.
We'd had an accident
and my suitcase broke.
lt was winter then and l remember
l wrapped the accordion in some towels
to protect it against the cold.
So l decided to make a case myself. lt came out great.
Even today, l still make cases for different instruments.
l used to take apart all my toys
down to their smallest components. This carried over to instruments.
l remember taking apart
an accordion l'd borrowed.
Somehow l managed to put it back together again.
And it worked properly.
My uncle was a guiding light
in my life.
He'd come visit 2-3 times a month, and he'd always have a gift,
or pocket money. That's why l liked him
more than anybody else.
When we do these world tours,
l can afford to buy different presents,
which l give to my family.
For you, my piglet: a piglet.
And a bunny for you.
Often, when l'm nervous or a day starts badly,
l spend my time taking different things apart
and putting them back together again.
That's how l got the idea of opening a factory
where things would only be assembled.
A factory for musical instrument cases.
Maybe some day, we'll make accordions.
l am Dragan Radivojevic, a.k.a. Lion, sound engineer.
This is Dragan Radivojevic, a.k.a. Lion, sound engineer.
When l came to Belgrade,
l met Nele Karajlic. At the time we met
l was working for a humanitarian organization
for Serbs in Sarajevo.
l packed cartons at ''Dobrotvor'' and l stood out
because l loaded the most cartons on the truck.
So l kept hearing:
''Well done, Lion!'' Which explains my nickname.
Sergio...
we need two mikes for the snare drum.
For what?
For the snare drum.
Chico, fuck you.
You're always nice to me.
Fuck you.
Chico.
Fuck you.
Chico.
Fuck you.
This is a photo of Zoran Milosevic, the accordionist...
Stribor, know what the Roman Coliseum is famous for?
lt's where Bruce Lee
beat the shit out of Chuck Norris. He murdered him.
Now with chords. Listen...
Can you repeat that?
Wait, wait.
ls this what you've been showing me?
Nice. Now the song goes like this...
Let's do it again.
lt's hard because of the right hand.
lt's a problem for me.
C'mon, the right hand...
with more dynamism.
And now, this...
A bit slow. lt should go like this...
Now, you. No matter, slow it down.
You have to wait a bit.
Good. Let's do the song now.
Now you...
2, 3, 4...
Good. l'll go down and you go up.
1, 2... Me first, 1, 2, 3...
l don't know that part. Great!
Listening to Cakija on guitar, you can hear
Joe Pass, Django Reinhardt.
You can hear a lot of legendary jazz guitarists
to whom he didn't listen much. lt probably comes
from his way of life, the tents, dances, gypsy balls.
One thing's sure, emotions come first for them.
You can hear that. lt strikes you immediately.
lt was my first public appearance,
and my first recording. l made a record when l was only 5.
When did you... He's sleeping... When'd you make your first record?
ln 1980.
Go back to sleep.
My mother is Hungarian.
l have a lot of Hungarian blood in me.
l think that influenced my temperament and love of music,
though l got nothing from my father's side. Zero points.
He's from Herzegovina.
My musical idols were Stéphane Grappelli,
and nowadays, Nigel Kennedy.
l think that playing
different kinds of music helped me a lot.
l graduated from the music academy.
l played folk music in bistros.
l played classical music, and, in one period, even jazz.
My grandfather never dealt in opium.
He never got rich like Glava's grandfather,
who sold opium, which we all know is illegal.
His grandfather got rich, so to speak,
- on other people's suffering. - Did your grandpa rob mine?
As we know, ''ln troubled times, the hero stands out.''
We'll discuss it later.
You idiot.
- You naughty boy. - You jackass.
My grandpa was a poor...
honest man who never dealt in opium.
Don't.
Never mind. Long live Grandpa.
That's enough.
Enough.
lt's not enough.
Thank you and have a nice day.
You want to start from here?
Give me playback.
Pet cemetery
Since NATO bombed the Danube bridges,
the only way across is by barge.
As Yugoslavia is a country without timetables,
we have to cross in small boats.
While the wind blows and rain beats down
l just take out my accordion to kill time.
Like l'm trying to convince myself l'm living a beautiful life.
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