Krivo srastanje (1983) is widely considered one of the most significant albums in the discography of Azra, the legendary Yugoslav rock band led by Branimir "Johnny" Štulić.
The word Malunion is a medical term for a bone that has healed incorrectly after a fracture. Štulić used this as a powerful metaphor for the socio-political state of Yugoslavia at the time.
It’s hard to argue against this being his peak—the lyrics on Krivo srastanje represent a shift from "street-level" observation to something much more literary and philosophical. This is pure poetry.
Full Album
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2SE8rZ8IDcg&t=1012s
Malunion (Krivo srastanje)
One can never be wakeful enough, my three-span miss,
On the bends, the rear wagons shake like mad
And many empty their bowels, forgetting all shame,
And pride, once destined to be a virtue,
Deflates before our eyes and reeks for miles,
And no one has the strength to ward off the decay,
And no one even tries to be more than cold gelatin
That blathers between extremes like thin shit,
While all your unscrupulous "benefactors,"
And self-proclaimed admirers of what they don't understand,
And all your paid scoundrels, informants, and cutpurses,
And all your mute shouters of sonorous titles
Bravely scheme, protected by a thief’s code
Which shields the believers from the infected,
And heals every wit, always and on time,
Effectively, right at the very beginning.
So, what name should we give you, my three-span miss?
"A malunion, sir, a malunion."
Like when the rich are courted for their dowry,
But the pot is swept by the ugly and the wicked
With unheard-of power to drive whatever they desire;
There are many of them and they scream terribly,
They usually smash every mirror they come across,
They usually smash every mirror they come across,
So that not even a mention of beauty remains.
3N
Why is it that the primates’ electricity is never cut off?
In principle, they rarely read anyway
And even what they do read, they read the wrong things
So why don’t they just cut off their electricity?
Do you want what’s good for your children,
You "deserving" ones?
Do you perhaps want what’s best?
No.
I am training to aim.
No.
I am training to hate.
No.
I am training to obey.
Sometimes I am lonely
And I am also afraid
I keep you on the table,
Lord.
I dreamed of a fine party
Many people
Not a gendarme in sight
I dreamed of happy faces
It’s been a long time since I've seen faces like that
I know of laughter
But what is there to laugh about?
I know of dance
But nobody feels like dancing
I know of the night
I see it
It is all around me
Like an accident on the road
Like life
Or
Death.
My name is Pola Horvat, I loved a dead man
He arrived on a mission, I waited for him the whole time
Spring, or perhaps autumn
I don't know
I remember the candles were burning
And his hands, so masculine and translucent
Like a signpost for something
For the camp
Or
Death.
I recall many things but I remember one experience
By the way
I wasn't a big shot, I had to go to the end
She was so beautiful that evening
Like when dark water wells up
Like when an unusual flash blinds you
Like a report to headquarters
Like a strike
Destiny.
Colonel and the Deceased (Pukovnik i Pokojnik)
The deceased no longer suspects a thing
And don't expect the colonel to give you a coherent explanation
Death rewards them both equally
It fascinates the one
And saves the other from oblivion
It could be that they are bounty hunters
As honorable men sometimes are
Or it could be that they’ve simply tasted fear
Truth is
They didn't particularly impress anyone
I would like you to seduce the shaven heads
And take them as an eroticism of thought
So you won't be like round stones
Tumbled through the valley by the wind
So that at the end of the road you stand
And with your senses, tame time
And to speak up at once
Lest I think you are lying
Because no one understands you as well as I do
You will see how the past becomes
That which happens even to the wise
Something between laughter and the countdown
Something between silence and the waiting
And when the bizarre, quite truly
Remains without a single surprise left
And when you find yourself, as you have so many times
In my embrace
Who will be your new guru then?
Mon Ami
I don't know what it’s like to be born in the East
But that is exactly how I feel
I don't know what it’s like to be a hole in the deck
My feeling is an endless loneliness
How does it feel to be a colored painting
Exhibited at Saint-Germain-des-Prés
A coincidence
Mon ami
Sitting for a long time on the shore
Mon ami
Sitting on the shore
Mon ami
I searched for a connection with you
And how is it that processions of people with strange fates
Never defeated by anything
That isn't fear, love, or rage
(Or perhaps the beauty of stacked-up years)
Sail calmly between the bums
Living in the past
A coincidence
Mon ami
Living in the past
Mon ami
Behind the illuminated ships
And how is it that wooden floors creak so ordinarily
While someone prepares to leave in the rain
And how is it that tears are real
And quiet and persistent and cuddly and sticky
Just like a woman after a breakup
When she is left alone
A coincidence
Mon ami
It's all just stacked-up years
Mon ami
Behind the illuminated ships
Byzantium
I asked Jane about Byzantium
She didn't know
She only watched as if sensing
The heavy shroud of stone centuries
A wailing wall
Blood
And the stoic line on the faces of angels
And flame
And birth
And death
I know she felt it
I saw the reflection behind her back
She said
Maybe it all begins without a valid reason
Maybe it all begins out of the blue
The sound of a blade while it vibrates
Or a song
From the other side of the experienced
Maybe steel
And only for a moment under the light
When it gleams
Maybe you’d like to be the ink
Maybe you’d like to be famous
You will never know that, honey
I let her take me to her
Because I truly heard the song of the armored men
And the blows from which bones shatter
And the screams
And the turmoil
And the hacking of nameless slaves
And as stupid as it may seem
I knew the noose was tightening around the Emperor's neck
And that a new Caliph was already presiding on wet cushions
Above the throne
She said
What would have happened if they had plowed over Rome
As they sent cattle
To graze over Carthage
Or
If you were to tear out a single hair to save the species
Would you do it, honey?
Or
If you were vain
So the gods led you through nine worlds
And then brought you back extinguished
Like a dead herring
MSP ("Malo, Sramno, Ponižavajuće" Small, Shameful, Humiliating)
That the game was designed to entertain children
You know that, right?
And that it’s up to the children to change things
You know that too, right?
That others think for you doesn’t bother you, you’re used to it
That there are laws stronger than the prescribed ones, that you don’t know
That’s what heroes said when they were little
Bad, bad
MSP
Bad, bad
MSP
Bad, bad
MSP
Blood, horror...
Who cares
Moronic
Humiliating
That it’s nice to be tough in bed and with a gun
We’ve heard that, right?
That it’s nice to cheat someone dumber than yourself
We’ve heard that too, right?
And to look at a speck in someone else's eye but not see the log in your own
We know that, right?
But that courage is defending yourself from another
And manhood (čojstvo) is defending others from yourself
Well, that...
Bad, bad
MSP
Bad, bad
MSP
Bad, bad
MSP
Blood, horror...
If only people were penguins, so when one falls the others jump in
If only people were dolphins, so they’d agree in silence
If only people were birds, so when they fly away the last one puts out the candle
But "it never was that it wasn't somehow"
And "it never will be that it won't be somehow"
Well, that—you will find out for yourselves
Bad, bad
MSP
Bad, bad
MSP
Bad, bad
MSP
Blood, horror.
Deep Within You (Duboko u Tebi)
Deep within you
Perhaps I left a trace of light
In the night between the walls
Neither all the good people
Nor all those you know
Nor the flight from the loneliness
Into which you retreat
(When despair breaks through)
Are hardly enough
Against the cruel power
Extreme and final
Deep within you passions shatter
Even that which remains
And that which does not exist
The longing for death
The desire for survival
The yearning for freedom
And the will to bow to fate
Like on the palm of a hand
Deep within you, thousands of drummers
Fanfares from the distance
Flags at half-mast
Whom are you mourning, my love?
The black omen
On the face of your dear one
The melancholy in words
Once in a lifetime
I will let myself be captured
By a man of cold grip
And a steel gaze
Flash
Nothing happens when you’re down and when you’re alone
And when the nights drag everything into the subconscious, back to memory
An avalanche of rolling weights presses down on your legs
And the sweat only starts to bother you later
Only later does the city wake up
Some torn-up streets
The flash of wet tracks
The first tram across Trešnjevka
Grows in my eyes
Morning visits the scene routinely
With due respect, I move out of the way
A double mask on its face
Makes every providence redundant
How can I control myself when a feeling is killing me
So different from everything I understand
From everything I want to see
Something like a flash
How can I control myself
I watched a film about hopelessness again
Or maybe it was a chronicle of the unknown
Because that was the name of a man, neither alive nor dead
Nor a seaman
If I ever fulfill my wish
And you grant me the right, thinking
"This is the only way to keep him"
If I ever reach the place where fear ends
I will be ready to forget
I will be ready to forget
Some torn-up streets
The flash of wet tracks
The first tram across Trešnjevka
The glow in your eyes
Azra wasn't just a band; they were a cultural phenomenon that redefined the music scene in Yugoslavia during the late 70s and 80s. Led by the enigmatic and prolific Branimir "Džoni" Štulić, they were the vanguard of the New Wave (Novi Val) movement, blending punk energy, reggae rhythms, and poetic, often biting social commentary.
Here is a look at why their legacy remains so untouchable:
1. The Core Trio
While the lineup changed over the years, the "classic" trio that defined their sound consisted of:
Branimir "Džoni" Štulić: Vocals, guitar, songwriter. The undisputed leader and visionary.
Mišo Hrnjak: Bass (the melodic "heart" of the early sound).
Boris Leiner: Drums (his driving, precise drumming gave the band its incredible energy).
2. The Artistic Eras
Azra’s discography followed a rapid, almost frantic evolution:
The New Wave Explosion (1980–1981)
The self-titled debut and the double album "Sunčana strana ulice" (The Sunny Side of the Street) established them. They sang about urban Zagreb, street life, and youthful angst. Tracks like “Balkan,” “A šta da radim,” and “Marina” became instant anthems.
The Intellectual Peak (1982–1984)
With "Filigranski pločnici" and "Krivo srastanje", Štulić’s lyrics became more dense and political. He moved away from simple love songs toward complex historical and philosophical critiques. This was the "Peak" you mentioned, where his poetry became high art.
The Solo/Experimental Phase (Late 80s)
As the trio disbanded, Štulić continued under the Azra name with various musicians. The sound became heavier and more folk-influenced (as heard on “Između krajnosti”), eventually leading to his departure for the Netherlands and his retreat into translating ancient Greek classics.
3. Why They Matter Today
The "Cult of Džoni": Štulić’s uncompromising attitude—his refusal to "play the game" and his eventually self-imposed exile—made him a mythical figure.
Social Prophecy: Many of their songs from the mid-80s are seen as prophetic warnings about the social and political decay that would eventually lead to the dissolution of Yugoslavia.
Work Ethic: Azra was famous for their marathon concerts and Štulić’s incredible output (recording over 100 songs in a single three-year span).
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