Bitanga I Princeza (“The Rascal and the Princess”), the fourth studio album from notorious band Bijelo Dugme, is often cited as their finest work. Emerging from a period of uncertainty — Goran Bregović’s military service and Željko Bebek’s solo endeavours — the band returned with several line up changes, including the replacement of drummer Ipe Ivandić and keyboardist Laza Ristovski. The album stands as their last hard rock effort before transitioning to new wave, blending their signature style with the emerging music trends of the late 70s and early 80s.
The album’s release wasn’t without controversy. Jugoton, their label, rejected the original cover art depicting a provocative image, deeming it vulgar. Additionally, several lyrics were flagged by censors, reflecting the ongoing tension between artistic freedom and Yugoslav social norms. Despite the friction, Bitanga I Princeza was a commercial and critical triumph — breaking previous sales records with over 300,000 copies sold and cementing its status in Yugoslav rock history.
The title track kicks off the album with a catchy fusion of hard and pop rock. Narrating a nocturnal encounter between a “rascal” and a “princess,” it encapsulates the band’s storytelling flair, matched with irresistible melodies. Ala Je Glupo Zaboravit’ Njen Broj (“It’s Stupid to Forget Her Number”) follows with high-octane energy, blending hard rock with Balkan folk tones. Its frantic rhythm captures the narrator’s spiral into anxiety after forgetting a girl’s number — a perfect example of Bijelo Dugme’s ability to channel emotion through sound.
Ipak, Poželim Neko Pismo (“Still, I Want a Letter”) slows things down with a more melancholic tone. The rascal misses the princess as she drifts further from his life. Bebek’s expressive vocals and the poignant guitar work deepen the emotional core of the track. The first side closes with Kad Zaboraviš Juli (“When You Forget Juli”), a symphonic ballad of organ swells and orchestral overtones. It brings a contemplative depth rarely heard on their earlier records and signals the band’s growing musical maturity.
Side two opens with Na Zadnjem Sjedištu Moga Auta (“In the Back Seat of My Car”), introducing fresh new wave influences while retaining that unmistakable Balkan pop rock backbone. Its metallic cowbell rhythm makes it hard not to bop your head, and it stands out as a modern, hedonistic highlight. A Koliko Si Ih Imala Do Sad (“And How Many Have You Had So Far”) is more conventional — not a standout, but it keeps the album’s pacing intact and serves its role in the track list.
Sve Će To, Mila Moja, Prekriti Ruzmarin, Snjegovi I Šaš (“My Love, Everything Will Be Covered By Rosemary, Snow and Sedge”) closes the album in epic fashion. A personal favourite of mine — it was on one of my first Ex-YU playlists — and a fan favourite as well. Its poetic lyrics, grand composition, and almost eight-minute runtime compels you to disappear into it. It’s a natural spiritual successor to Kad Bi’ Bio Bijelo Dugme, the sprawling opener of their debut album. It’s as if we’ve come full circle.
Bebek once reflected on this song in an interview with Symbol, saying:
“I, together with the others, created a masterful rock ballad that branded Bijelo Dugme forever.”
Bitanga I Princeza represents a moment of transformation — a band at a crossroads, embracing sonic change while honouring their roots. It is as bold as it is introspective, as musically ambitious as it is emotionally resonant. It should be considered their magnum opus: a timeless testament to Bijelo Dugme’s enduring influence on the Ex-YU music scene.
