Zdenka Kovačiček – Frka
Blending soulful vocals, groovy funk and sophisticated pop, with occasional prog touches, Frka is a stylishly rare record by Croatian powerhouse Zdenka Kovačiček. Though commercially overlooked at the time, the album has seen a resurgence in interest, especially after the title track was reimagined by electronic duo nipplepeople in 2017, racking up millions of streams and giving new life to the original.
Zdenka’s background makes her more than qualified for the genre-blending found on Frka. Beginning as one half of the pop duo Hani, she moved into a rich solo career, collaborating with jazz greats like Boško Petrović, playing alongside jazz-rock band Time, and working with funk figures such as Tihomir Pop Asanović and Igor Savin. That musical breadth is felt across this album, where she channels the soulful weight of Josipa Lisac, jazz-rock’s instrumental finesse, and the sleek elegance of early 80s funk and sophisti-pop.
The album’s mood shifts confidently between commercial pop rock, groovy 80s jazz-funk, and a blend of sophisticated pop that echoes Sade with its soulful vocals, ’80s synths and new wave style basslines. With fantastic arrangements handled by Kire Mitrev (leader of KIM Band), we are provided with a jazz-funk background that depth to the record’s soulful vocals. On tracks like the opener Ono Nešto (“That Something”), Kovačiček channels her introspective energy into something groovy and slow-burning, her voice both commanding and raw. Sve Je Isto (“Everything Is the Same”) dips into darker synth textures, while Sanjala Sam Da Sam Bila Tulipan (“I Dreamt That I Was a Tulip”) builds into something theatrical and rhythmically playful — like Boa at their most mainstream, with just a dash of prog grandeur
The title track Frka (“Fuss”) is the standout — now enjoying renewed attention thanks to a 2017 electronic cover by nipplepeople — it’s the album’s centrepiece. A stylish, irresistibly catchy funk number that’s aged miraculously well. The album’s latter half, however, can’t always maintain that magic. Some tracks lean more into 60s throwback pop and lose the sharper edges, but Volim Te Kao Konja (“I Love You Like a Horse”) revives some energy as a similarly enigmatic jazz-funk number with catchy vocals.
Frka is a sophisticated and deeply enjoyable slice of Yugoslav jazz-funk, with plenty of range and texture. While it stumbles slightly toward the end, the bulk of the album remains impressively composed, tight, and groovy. Zdenka’s vocals command attention without overpowering the arrangements, and the production — courtesy of jazz and funk collaborators — is rich with detail and personality. I would have loved to see the sophisti-pop elements of the first few tracks explored more in the final part. But still, for fans of Josipa Lisac, Time, and 80s funk, this is an essential listen.
