Pop rock band Crvena Jabuka, originally from Sarajevo, formed in 1985 following the breakup of Elvis J. Kurtović & His Meteors. This self-titled LP, released in 1986, marked their debut — but was soon overshadowed by tragedy: members Dražen Ričl and Aljoša Buha died in a car accident on the way to what would have been their first concert in Mostar.
The album itself is decent — there are catchy pop rock moments and echoes of their New Primitive roots, but for me, those elements feel under-developed. Most of the record leans heavily into a more commercial sound: safe, clean, and ultimately pretty generic. Sa Tvojih Usana stands out as a refreshingly darker and more interesting track, but overall, it’s holding its own in a bag of middling songs.
Bježi Kišo S Prozora is obviously the most notable and enduring track here. Bright, catchy, and classic Crvena Jabuka pop rock. It’s a fun, light-hearted track that reminds me of The Cars; it has that teenage fever-dream feel of blasting music from your car speakers on a summer holiday with your mates. Mojca, Mojca continues in the same tone by contributing a pop rock track that is easy to enjoy, but easy to forget. The album continues in much the same vein with inoffensive, formulaic tunes like Kad Je Noć Hladna I Zvjezdana (Emira) and Učiniću Sve Da Te Zadovoljim. Notably, the latter signals their ’70s influences with a guitar riff lifted from The Stones’ (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.
There are glimpses of magic on On Je Poput Djeteta (100 Na Jednoga) with a nod to Sarajevo’s New Primitives and the band’s roots in The Meteors — but again, it doesn’t go far enough. Sa Tvojih Usana is similar in this regard – a standout for me with its darker tone and more engaging arrangement. These tracks feel like a turning point that never quite turns the corner — hinting at a more atmospheric, layered sound the band had the potential to explore, but didn’t.
Dirlija adds some Balkan folk flavour and a needed jolt of energy, with a memorable chorus and tight playing. But the rest of the LP sticks to glossy, filler pop rock — pleasant enough, but rarely interesting.
In the end, Crvena Jabuka offers charm, nostalgia, and broad appeal, but doesn’t dig particularly deep. It’s a historically important debut, shadowed by tragedy, and you can feel the talent — it just never quite takes off.
