Haustor’s Bolero, released in 1985, stands at the pinnacle of the EX-YU new wave scene, seamlessly blending various genres to create a timeless classic. Acting as my introduction to music of the former Yugoslavia, Bolero left a profound impact, not only through its innovative sound, but also its rich cultural, historical and emotional depth.
The album opens with its title track, Bolero, exuding the vibrant spirit of a Brazilian street carnival, underscored by a jubilant brass section that sets a tone of optimism. The influence of samba rhythms is palpable, inviting listeners into a celebratory experience.
Following this, Ena brings a shift towards reggae and ska, reminiscent of The Specials, but with a distinct Balkan twist. Listening to the track in Notting Hill is almost uncanny, given the large Caribbean influence on the area; from the vivid colours of carnival and pastel coloured houses, to the diverse culture seen on the streets. The track’s underlying tension contrasts with its upbeat rhythm, reflecting a nuanced emotional landscape that oscillates between sanguine and apprehension.
Tv Man, a severely underrated track, presents a stark change in mood. Rundek’s sombre narration over a minimalist backdrop paints a bleak yet captivating urban scene, where the melancholic tone sets the stage for the album’s thematic depth.
Sejmeni stands out as a powerful anthem of resistance, drawing from historical narratives of defiance against the Turkish Seljuk army. The song’s groovy bass line and infectious chorus imbue it with an uplifting quality, while the haunting repetition of “Sejmeni dolazi” (“The Sejmeni are coming”) evokes a sense of impending conflict. The track’s layered instrumentation and dynamic shifts create a gripping sonic landscape, mirroring the turmoil of its narrative.
Side B kicks off with Take the Money and Run, a track that, while reflecting early hip hop influences, feels somewhat dated but remains charmingly funky. This is followed by Ja Želim, which leans heavily into new wave aesthetics, carrying the album’s eclectic spirit forward.
Šejn begins with a rousing whispering from Rundek, eventually building into an energetic crescendo led by the returning brass section. The track exhibits further reggae influence, while a distant harmonica evokes powerful feelings of nostalgia. Rundek theatrically tells the story of a cowboy, life on the frontier is dangerous and tough, highlighting extensive western influence, both in film and song.
The album closes with Šal od svile. A tune that acted as my gateway into Yugoslav music, and a song that I fondly remember listening to in the dingy depths of the London Underground for weeks on end. This hauntingly beautiful track delves into themes of suicide and loss, but also, hope, as I’d like to think. We are left with a sense of catharsis and contemplation, much like when the sun kisses our skin and the wind brushes our face.
Bolero is a testament to Haustor’s ability to weave diverse influences into a cohesive and impactful album. Its rich tapestry of sounds and themes continues to resonate with the current generation, making it a cornerstone of Yugoslavian music history and a must-listen for anyone exploring the region’s cultural legacy.
