Album Review: Parada Hitova Br 5 – Hammond Orgulje Synthesizer by Roman Butina
Roman Butina’s Parada Hitova Br 5 – Hammond Orgulje Synthesizer is one of those albums that sneaks up on you. Released in 1978 under Yugoslavia's Jugoton label, it’s a genre-blurring gem blending jazz, pop, blues, funk, and soul into something uniquely its own. If you’re into vintage sounds with a touch of retro experimentation, this record deserves your attention.
The album kicks off strong with "Ne Zatvaraj Prozor", which grabs you right away. The Hammond organ takes center stage here—courtesy of Butina himself—and it’s impossible not to feel like you’ve been transported back to smoky Yugoslav clubs where everyone danced without caring what they looked like. The groove is infectious, thanks in part to Kavel Novak’s basslines and Dragan Brčić’s tight drumming. It’s the kind of track that makes you want to roll down your car windows (even if it’s freezing outside) and blast it loud enough for strangers to hear.
Another standout is "Sve Se Vraća, Sve Se Plaća." This tune has an almost meditative quality to it, with Butina layering synthesizers over his signature keyboard work. Svemir Opara’s acoustic guitar adds just the right amount of texture, creating a balance between reflective and upbeat vibes. You can tell there’s some serious arranging magic at play here; every instrument feels intentional yet free-flowing. Lyrically, it sticks with you too—it’s about karma coming full circle, but delivered so smoothly you might miss the deeper meaning on first listen.
What really sets this album apart is how personal it feels despite being packed with technical skill. Butina wears many hats as producer, arranger, conductor, and multi-instrumentalist, and somehow pulls it all off without sounding pretentious. Credit also goes to Franjo Berner’s engineering—it’s crisp enough to let each element shine while still retaining that raw analog warmth we love from ‘70s recordings.
Visually, Ivan Ivezić’s design captures the vibe perfectly. It’s quirky and bold, much like the music inside. And honestly? That cover art alone could sell the album even before you hit play.
If I had to nitpick, some tracks lean more toward easy-listening territory than others, which might not appeal to fans craving nonstop high-energy jams. But hey, variety keeps things interesting, right?
Reflecting on Parada Hitova Br 5, it strikes me how ahead of its time it was. Back then, Yugoslavia was a cultural melting pot, and this album reflects that beautifully. Listening today, it feels both nostalgic and fresh—a reminder of simpler times when musicians weren’t afraid to experiment and have fun doing it.
Oh, and here’s a random thought: wouldn’t it be wild to see someone sample these tunes for modern hip-hop or EDM? Just saying, producers out there should take note!
Final verdict: Whether you’re a fan of Roman Butina, Yugoslavian music history, or just digging for obscure gems, this album’s worth adding to your collection. Trust me—you won’t regret giving it a spin.
Rating: 4.5/5
