There are some critics out there – and I am, unfortunately, not one – who maintain that Damir Imamović is heir apparent to the great Bosnian sevdalinke tradition, of which his grandfather Zaim was one of the leading lights. The logic is thus: just as the old sevdah songs were laments to love foiled by …
Sasha and I go to Ziko’s, an old Serbian establishment off of Kantstrasse, just north of Stutti. Ziko’s used to be a popular meeting spot for the Yugo diaspora in the eighties. Back then there were Gypsy musicians and famous sports stars, in particular boxers. Today, the place makes most of its money through busloads …
A couple weeks ago, I introduced to you to the figure of Sasha, a kind of hero-in-his-own-mind small-time Balkan criminal. I mentioned I knew him through an Albanian tailor, named Bajram. There is little doubt in my mind that Bajram collaborated with Sasha on some of his deals, acting as a middleman for Sasha’s hot …
My German cousin Georg and I share a love for Balkan music. With me no one knows quite where this came from. With Georg I am sure it has to do with the fact that he grew up in Dresden, which is something of a gateway to East Europe – and once you are in …
“You could write a book about my life,” said Sasha. “In fact, you could write several books. The things I have seen and done, you wouldn’t believe. The war. Bodyguard. Doorman. Knife fights. Gun fights. Prison. Casanova. Red Star Belgrade fan. Lone wolf. Patriot. That is who I am. I had the biggest balls in …
Ever seen that Yugo film from 1980 called Ko To Tamo Peva, or Who’s Singing’ Over There? It’s the archetypal film about a Balkan bus ride. In the film it’s 5 April 1941, one day before the German invasion of Yugoslavia. A motley group of random passengers on a country road deep in the heart of …
So I finally managed to make it to Yenilmez, the village of the “clans”. It was really a one horse town with not a single shop around, on account of the inhabitants growing all their own vegetables and raising their own livestock. Most of the houses were poor mud-brick structures, some of them a hundred years old, but amidst all of …
Greetings from Midyat, a completely random city in the east of Turkey, close to the Iraq-Syria border where I feel I am the only Western tourist in one of the few hotels in town, which are dirt cheap by German standards. Personally, though, I am wondering what I’m doing here. It all goes back to …
The best way to see the Balkans is by bus, and if you don’t have wheels, it is often the only way. The Balkans is a real bus culture. From Novi Sad to Istanbul and beyond, I must have sampled every bus station of note there is. Bus stations in the Balkans, I have found …
I don’t know how it is with other journalists from the West, but when it comes to trying to track down and interview folk singers from Serbia this journalist has had no luck. Either they ask for ridiculous sums of money for an interview; or all they speak is Serbian and have no interest whatsoever in …
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