Koya of Disciplin A Kitschme
By Rada Djurica

I'll tell you a horror story. This one isn't for the sensitive. It's about a nice little country, nice music and a nice little band — and the nastiness that can occur from old overplayed songs. So, if this band and this music speaks to you, please do not hesitate to go for it. It could become your new addiction. But a warning: not all side effects of this drug are known. The drug itself, called Disciplin A Kitchme, is available on a British site, www.disciplinakitschme.com.

Once upon a time, there used to be a country called Yugoslavia. Living there wasn't fun all the time. There were many economic and civil rights problems, but people were happy, living in peace, not shooting each other. Then the 'bad guys' came along — local politicians Milosevic (Serbia), Tudjman (Croatia), Izetbegovic (Bosnia) — who with other nasties, foreign politicians, dragged the nation into civil war. Of course, there is no innocent side in such a complicated matter, and many innocent people suffered instead.

As the country fell apart, so did the music in Serbia. The civil war made pro-oriental folk-kitchy music popular. Glamorous women with pornographic eyes and equally pornographic music also got attention. The music in Serbia and other ex-Yu countries became a haven for high-class prostitution, masquerading behind their so-called folk music. New generations of teenagers were not being brought up on the world's pop and rock 'n' roll, as we were, but on folk pro-porn crap, insulting enough for ex-Yugoslavian people, insulting for the real folk-traditional music.

That's how ex-Yu rock 'n' roll fell apart. There was no money and not enough power to produce good old rock 'n' roll. After the war started in 1991 and sanctions against Yugoslavia in 1992, an enormous hole in cultural events occurred. As the effects of isolation had been getting more cruel, local politicians were putting more and more emphasis on local cultural happenings, with the intention to fill the hole and show something, despite the isolation.

New bands (and occasionally old) were broadcast on TV and other media. Bands were given a lot of space in all media. It was easy to play everywhere, and we still had some money left at that time. There was literally no mainstream. There were only a few "huge" bands. New Yu was a rather small and poor market and "huge" referred to some rock/alternative/indie old timers from the previous decade.

Everyone seemed to be part of a happy family. But then, war had become more cruel — 150,000 mostly young people ran away from mobilization and bad memories, searching for asylum around the globe. The economy had collapsed, with 313 billion percent monthly inflation, monthly salaries 2-10 DM (two-ten), and a 500,000,000,000 dinars bill that was worthless 10 days after printing. And some criminals, married to folk (porn) stars, and officially wanted by Interpol, were members of Serbian "cultural" life and parliament.

Now, I promised you a horror story, and I'm about to deliver it. It had gotten to the point where we could hear nothing on the radio but Jimmy Hendrix's "Purple Haze," "Hey Joe," "Fire" or "Foxy Lady." Or maybe Ziggy Stardust, Bauhaus or David Bowie from the '70s. Or, wait... Iggy Pop and The Stooges!!!! Or how about funk from the '70s? This was it! The horror was the ex-Yu rock 'n' roll scene in ex-Yugoslavia, still at least 10 years behind the UK and USA music industries, but yes, happily stumbling backwards!

Music over here is mostly influenced by MTV and local radio stations. Some minor credit also should be given to NME, who avoid giving commercial prizes to ex-Yu people. Who would want to know about a people and a country that is history? No one!!!! On a global scale, their influence is negligible. This is mainly caused by the economic situation, a lack of interest or the passivity of people, who would rather go back to the '70s and '80s than face cruel reality.

So we have a doctor in the army who sings, "Jesus, allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and fame..." by the good old Rolling Stones, just before he gets shot and is left to die in some hole in Bosnia. Yet, dying with the Rolling Stones on his lips is still safer than getting into the hands of the enemy alive.

Hardly anyone played music seriously. Just a group of concerts on a big Belgrade Square to protest Milosevic's regime. A few of the ex-Yu musical legends died from overdoses of heroin, which was still cheap and came from the opposite army, the Croatian Army, which was smuggling heroin and cocaine in return for guns. In situations like this, junkies have no choice.