Album Review: Kad Mi Bude Sedamdeset Leta Dosta Mi Je Nemirnog Života by Raša Pavlović
If you’re a fan of raw, heartfelt folk music that feels like it’s telling your own story, then Raša Pavlović’s Kad Mi Bude Sedamdeset Leta Dosta Mi Je Nemirnog Života is gonna hit you right in the feels. Released back in 1982 in Yugoslavia under the Jugoton label, this album is a gem for anyone who digs Balkan folk vibes with a touch of life’s bittersweet truths.
Let’s dive into two standout tracks from the record that’ll stick with you long after the needle lifts off the vinyl (or streaming ends—you do you).
First up, the title track, "Kad Mi Bude Sedamdeset Leta." Man, this song just grabs you by the soul. Written by D. Belić and arranged by B. Jovanović, it's got this slow-burning melancholy that builds as Pavlović sings about aging and looking back on life. The lyrics are simple but heavy—they make you think about time slipping away and how we all wanna find peace eventually. It’s not flashy or overproduced; instead, it lets the emotion shine through. You can almost picture yourself sitting at some rustic table, sipping rakija, wondering where all those years went. That little ache in Pavlović’s voice? Perfectly imperfect.
Then there’s "Dosta Mi Je Nemirnog Života," which translates roughly to “I’ve Had Enough of This Restless Life.” Oh man, don’t we all feel that sometimes? This one hits different because it’s so relatable—it’s basically an anthem for anyone who’s ever felt tired of running around chasing dreams that never quite pan out. The orchestra led by Budimir Jovanović adds this lush, sweeping backdrop without overshadowing Pavlović’s vocals. There’s something comforting about hearing someone else say what you’ve been feeling deep down. Like… yeah, dude, I hear ya. Let’s take a break already.
What makes this album special isn’t just the music—it’s the whole package. From M. Gavrilović’s editing to A. Radojičić’s engineering, every detail feels intentional yet unpolished in the best way possible. And let’s give props to D. Petrović for the cover photo—it’s got that vintage Yugoslav charm that screams authenticity. Producer Žarko Vukašinović clearly knew how to keep things grounded while letting Pavlović’s voice take center stage.
Here’s the thing: listening to this album feels like flipping through an old family photo album. It’s nostalgic, maybe a little rough around the edges, but full of warmth and humanity. And honestly, isn’t that what great folk music should do? Make you feel connected?
Final thought: If Pavlović were alive today, I bet he’d be surprised to know his songs still resonate decades later. But hey, good art has a way of sticking around—even if it comes from a restless heart. Now go listen to this masterpiece and pour yourself a drink. You earned it.
