Today, we have the privilege to write a few lines about one of the most important records in recent years. In times when the jazz music scene has been saturated by overly produced releases by artists and orchestras who favor complexity over the soul and feel, this particular piece of art arrives just in time for all those true jazz lovers who demand tremendous passion from their music. Additionally, it is the thrill of archaeological discovery, the dusting off of a cultural artifact that’s more vital today than it was forty years ago. With Profesoru, S Ljubavlju (To Professor, With Love), you are stepping into a time machine set for a version of Belgrade that has long gone forgotten. This new archival release by Discom captures the essence of Miša Blam, a figure who looms large over the history of Serbian jazz, not just as a musician but as a custodian of the groove. But to categorize this strictly as a jazz record feels like a disservice. This collection acts as a living organism that refuses to sit still in one genre. Modern recordings often suffer from a perfection because everything is grid-locked and auto-tuned into submission. Here, the audio percolates. You can hear the room. There is a tremendous quality to the soundstage where the air between the instruments feels thick. It is organic in the truest sense, because you are listening to human beings communicating in real-time, navigating complex emotional landscapes without a safety net.
The A-side of the record introduces us to a sonic palette that shines with Balkan themes, yet cinematic in a way that recalls the gritty noir of 1970s European cinema. There is a distinct world music element here, but it isn’t the sanitized, tourist-friendly version we often get today. It digs into the soil. You hear the influence of local ethno-heritage, the wailing, emotive phrasing of traditional reeds, and the passionate vocal deliveries of Šaban Bajramović sounding impressive as usual. It is dramatic and tense, painting a picture of a midnight walk through a city that never quite sleeps. The rhythm section, anchored by Blam’s double bass, makes these compositions such a unique listening experience worth repeating over and over again. On many jazz-funk records, the bass is there to hold the floor, but here, it usually operates as a leading instrument. Blam drives the tracks forward, yet he possesses a unique touch that makes the low-end sing. When the band locks into a groove, particularly on the more up-tempo cuts, the result is more than incendiary. They explore odd time signatures, bumpy, uneven rhythms that should be difficult to dance to, yet somehow, they swing with a beat that makes your head nod involuntarily As the record flips, the mood shifts from the ethereal and mysterious to something more street-wise and cosmopolitan. If the first half is the sound of the Balkan countryside bleeding into the city outskirts, the second half is downtown Belgrade in its prime. This is where the funk and soul influences take the wheel. The brass sections are punchy and tight, stabbing through the mix with an attitude that rivals anything coming out of New York or Chicago during the same era. Yet, there is a melodic sensibility, a Slavic soul, if you will, that keeps it grounded in its geography. The compositions are hearty. That is the best word for them. They are crafted with passion. You can feel the emotional weight in the tenor saxophone lines, which float over the rhythm section with a dreamy, almost melancholic elegance. That specific bittersweet emotion inherent to the region’s music is a celebration of life that acknowledges the blues lurking just around the corner. The interplay between the keys and the horns suggests a telepathy that only comes from musicians who have lived and breathed this music together for years.
What makes this release so essential, beyond the music itself, is what it represents. For decades, the narrative of European jazz has been dominated by the West. This record showcases the vibrant, experimental, and deeply sophisticated jazz scene. It bridges the gap between the intellectual rigor of jazz music and a direct punch of funk, all while maintaining a strong local identity. Cutting this to 45 RPM was the right choice because the dynamics are explosive. The kick drums thump in your chest, and the double bass has a wooden, resonant quality that makes it feel like the amp is in the room with you. It’s a loud cut, designed to be played at volume. It demands engagement, and you cannot treat this vinyl record as background music. It grabs you by the lapels and forces you to listen. Profesoru, S Ljubavlju is a missing puzzle piece of Eastern European heritage, finally snapped into place. It exemplifies Miša Blam’s vision that saw no borders between the traditional and the modern, the local and the global. This is not just a record for collectors of Serbian jazz, though it is certainly a holy grail for them. This is a record for anyone who loves the moment when a drummer and a bassist lock eyes and the whole room lifts off the ground. It is passionate, soulful, and profoundly organic music. It is a love letter from the past, sealed in vinyl, waiting for you to open it, and when you do, you’ll realize that the Professor is still teaching us a thing or two about the groove. Head to Discom for more information about ordering.
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