Story

Od Balkana do Rocka

Kako kafane nisu, samo, mjesta gdje se pije, kao takve one su, uz brijačnice, izum Francuske buržoaske revolucije, govorenje o njima je svjedočenje o navikama, gradovima, ljudima. Pošto urbane naseobine ne čine zgrade nego, upravo, ljudi čije kulturne, emocionalne, kafanske i ine navike slikaju lice jednog grada, onda je priča o urbanitetu Zenice priča o nekolicini njenih kafana koje podupiru i održavaju tu prepoznatljivu gradskost. Bez namjere da sačinim iscrpan inventar zeničkih kafana koje zadovoljavaju ovaj kriterij, ograničiću se paradigmatski na dvije, jedne koja je bila i jedne koja, još uvijek, jeste. To su Balkan, nekadašnji hotel, koji je „obrazovao“ i iznjedrio generacije koje, sada, čine urbanu okosnicu grada i The Rocka“Hey Joe“ gdje nekolicina istih ljudi, istina sredovječnih, zalazi, održavajući živom sada pomalo sjetnu scenografiju Zenice šezdesetih, sedamdesetih. U ukusnom interijeru šank, jednostavni stolovi i stolice, stari instrumenti poodpadali sa nekog muzičkog drveta, crnobijele fotografije zeničana i nekadašnjeg Perviza, umjetničke slike, šeširi, adaptirani motor koji kao da je izašao iz filma Goli u sedlu sa Piterom Fondom. Nervoza svjetla, nestvaran i vremoplovan ambijent. Molski i (pod)sjećajući za sredovječne i malo starije posjetioce, ali i za one mlađe. Kao kroz imaginarni prozor utiče nešto davno i drago kroz odškrinuta čula, šezdesete. Zeničke šezdesete. Plameno nebo: „Putniče, ako dođeš u naš grad...“, Gitara Romana, Ćao bambina, Bongiorno Giuliana. Muzička i razgovorna anamneza vremena šlagera, „vječnog zelenila“, San Rema, vespi ili skutera, radio aparata, prvih javnih nastupa. O mladosti! Bila je tako lijepa i satkana od Želja, a sada samo Blijeda sjena. Marija, Ti si bila moja najdraža zvijezda. Ne treba joj reći zauvijek zbogom (Every Time We Say Goodbye), moj poljubac je, još uvijek, vatren Na plat's All Right, Good Golly Miss Molly i druge), nerijetko se zapleše nogama, rukama i srcem. Zna se čuti akustična gitara i tiha polifonija, onako za dušu. Između srdačan razgovor, bockanje bez zajedljivosti, tridesetogodišnje druženje. Noć odmiče nezaustavljivo u The Rocku...

Željko Škuljević

From "Balkan" to "Rock"

Since cafés are not, only, the spots where one drinks, but, as such, they are, along with barbershops, the invention of French bourgeois revolution, speaking about them is witnessing about habits, cities, people. Because urban settlements are not made only by buildings, but already, by the men of which cultural, emotional, cafeteria and other habits do the picture of a city, then the Zenica urbanity story tells us about some o its cafés, which support and maintain that recognisable city-likeness. Without the intention to do an exhaustive inventory of Zenica cafés which satisfy such places criteria, I will paradigmatically limit myself on two, one which it was and another which, so far, still it is. These are "Balkan", an ex-hotel, which "educated" and produced the generations who, now, make a urban spin bone of the city, and The Rock "Hey Joe" where same people, middle-aged to tell the truth, come in, to maintain alive now a little melancholic Zenica stage-graph of sixtieth, seventieth. In a nice inside there is a bar, simple tables and seats, old instruments fallen from an old music tree, black and white photographs of some Zenica inhabitants and former cultural association "Perviz", artistic pictures, hats, adapted motorcycle which gives the impression as coming out from movie "Naked in saddle" with Piter Fonda. Neurotics of light, unreal and time-machine ambient. It has mole effects and is reminding for middle aged and a little older visitors, but for younger ones too. Like through imaginary windows something very gone and dear gets inside through slightly opened senses, sixtieths. Sixtieths of Zenica. Fired sky, the song: „Voyager, if you come to our city...“, and „Guitar Romagna“, „Ciao Bambina“, „Bongiorno Giulliana“ ... Musical and talking anamneses of hit times, „evergreens“, San Remo, vespers or scooters, wireless sets, first public performances. Oh youth! It was so beautiful and weaved of Desires, and now it is only Pale shadow. Maria, You was my most appreciated star. One should not tell her goodbye forever (Every Time We Say Goodbye), my kiss is, still and always, blazing. On the sound of plates All Right, Good Golly Miss Molly, and others, one often dances by legs, arms and heartily. It appears to be heard an acoustic guitar and silent polyphony, for own sake only. In between a heartily talk, teasing without sarcasm, thirty years of company. The night goes away without stopping in The Rock...

By Željko Škuljević