Album Review: Kao Ovde Nigde Nije by Stoja
Let me tell you, this album hits differently. Released back in 2015, Kao Ovde Nigde Nije is one of those records that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. It’s raw, unfiltered Serbian folk—no fancy labels, no overproduction, just Stoja doing what she does best: pouring her soul into every note. Produced under Not On Label (basically a self-released labor of love), the project feels personal, like peeking into someone’s diary but with way more tamburitza and heartache.
First off, let’s talk about the title track, “Kao Ovde Nigde Nije.” I mean, wow. This song grabs you by the collar and doesn’t let go. Steva Simeunović wrote both the music and lyrics here, and man, his words cut deep. The melody feels like walking through an old village at sunset—nostalgic yet heavy with longing. There’s something hauntingly beautiful about how Stoja delivers the chorus; her voice cracks ever so slightly, as if she’s lived every word herself. You can feel the ache behind each line, and honestly? That imperfection makes it unforgettable.
Then there’s another standout—I’ll keep it vague because I want you to explore the rest yourself—but trust me, it slaps. Arranged by Aleksandar Kobac, this track has these lush instrumentals that build slowly, almost teasing you before exploding into this emotional crescendo. It’s not flashy—it doesn’t need to be—but damn, does it resonate. Like, I’ve caught myself humming it while cooking dinner or zoning out during boring Zoom calls. It sticks to your bones.
What really gets me is how real this whole thing feels. No gimmicks, no pandering to trends. Just pure storytelling wrapped in traditional folk sounds. Listening to it feels like sitting around a fire with strangers who somehow become friends by the end of the night. And yeah, maybe some parts sound rough around the edges, but isn’t that life? Imperfect, messy, yet still achingly beautiful?
Here’s the kicker though—this album reminds me why we listen to music in the first place. In a world obsessed with playlists and algorithms, Stoja drops something so human it hurts. By the time the last note fades away, you’re left wondering: How did something so simple leave such a big mark?
Oh, and fun fact—I swear my cat started meowing along to one of the tracks. Maybe he’s got better taste than I do.
