Pljuni i zapjevaj moja Jugoslavijo

Divlje Jagode vocalist Alen Islamović, who took over as Bijelo Dugme's singer in early fall 1986, had been unsuccessfully pursued two years earlier by the band's leader Goran Bregović in the immediate aftermath of long-time vocalist Željko Bebek's spring 1984 departure from the band.[2] Unsure about volatile interpersonal relations within the band and fearing Bebek's possible return into the fold, Islamović had decided to turn the offer down at the time and stay with Divlje Jagode;[2] twenty-three-year-old upstart Mladen "Tifa" Vojičić thus became Bijelo Dugme's new vocalist, recording only one studio album, 1984's Bijelo Dugme, with the band.[2] Under the pressure of professional obligations, sudden fame, and media scandal that revealed his LSD usage, Vojičić left Bijelo Dugme after only a year, and Divlje Jagode's Islamović got approached once again about joining.[2] This time, Divlje Jagode were based out of London, pursuing an international career under the modified name Wild Strawberries. Doubting Divlje Jagode's international prospects, 29-year-old Islamović decided to take the offer this time, leaving Wild Strawberries and returning to Yugoslavia to join Bijelo Dugme.[2] Talking about the second vocalist change in two years and the band's personnel issues in general, Bregović stated at the time:

Fuck singing, and fuck the singer too. What's important is the kind of person he is. The biggest issue in Dugme is can we work together or not. Everything else is easy. I'm very satisfied with Alen. My band is healthy. We've had enough of drunks and drug addicts.[3]

Keyboardist Laza Ristovski, who had left Bijelo Dugme in 1978, first returned as guest for the band's 1984 self-titled album's recording sessions before rejoining as a full-fledged member following the album's December 1984 release.[2] Pljuni i zapjevaj moja Jugoslavijo thus became the first Bijelo Dugme release since 1977 live album Koncert kod Hajdučke česme to feature Ristovski as an official member. For the first time in Bijelo Dugme's history, the lineup included two keyboard players: Ristovski and Vlado Pravdić.[2]

Pljuni i zapjevaj moja Jugoslavijo features similar Balkan folk-infused pop rock sound as Bijelo Dugme, and was similarly inspired by Yugoslavism within communist and socialist patriotic framework, containing numerous references to the Communist League (SKJ)-defined Yugoslav unity as well as the lyrics on the inner sleeve printed in both Cyrillic and Latin alphabets.[2]

When he began conceptualizing it, Bregović wanted Yugoslavism-inspired Pljuni i zapjevaj moja Jugoslavijo to contain contributions from individuals known for holding political views outside of SFR Yugoslavia's official ideology as espoused by the SKJ, the only legally allowed political party in the country. To that end, he and the band's manager Raka Marić approached three such individuals who had at that point been effectively proscribed from public discourse in Yugoslavia for over a decade:

• pop singer Vice Vukov, who had represented SFR Yugoslavia at the 1963 Eurovision Song Contest before seeing his career prospects marginalized due to being branded a Croatian nationalist as a result of his association with the Croatian Spring political movement,
• painter and experimental filmmaker Mića Popović, associated with Yugoslav Black Wave film movement, who got a dissident reputation due to his paintings and early 1960s films,
• politician and diplomat Koča Popović, who despite a prominent World War II role with the Partisan resistance movement as the 1st Proletarian Brigade commander—an engagement that in the post-war communist Yugoslavia earned him the Order of the People's Hero medal followed by high political and diplomatic appointments—nevertheless got silently removed from public life in 1972 after coming out in support of Latinka Perović and Marko Nikezić, leading figures of the so-called "Purge of Serbian liberals", a liberal faction within the League of Communists Serbia branch.[4]

Bregović's idea was to have Vukov sing the ballad "Ružica si bila, sada više nisi" ("You Were Once a Little Rose"). However, despite Vukov accepting, the plan never got implemented after the band's manager Marić got detained and interrogated by the police at the Sarajevo Airport upon returning from Zagreb where he had met with Vukov.[4] Mića Popović's contribution to the album was to be his Dve godine garancije (A Two-Year Warranty) painting featuring a pensioner sleeping on a park bench while using pages of Politika newspaper as blanket to warm himself, which Bregović wanted to use as the album cover. When approached, Mića Popović also accepted though warning Bregović of possible problems the musician would likely face.[4] The album ended up featuring a photograph of Chinese social realist ballet on the cover.[5] Finally, Koča Popović was reportedly somewhat receptive to the idea of participating on the album, but still turned the offer down.[4]

Eventually, under pressure from the band's record label, Diskoton, Bregović gave up on his original idea and turned to alternative solutions.[5] He decided to secure at least one aging pre-World War II Yugoslav revolutionary's appearance on the album. Reaching out to surviving individuals of that ilk was done through Duga journalist and writer Milomir Marić who had been known to keep contact with many of them as part of the preparatory work for his upcoming book Deca komunizma (Children of Communism). Bregović was able to get seventy-three-year-old Svetozar Vukmanović Tempo to agree, visiting him in his Reževići home and arranging for Tempo to travel to Sarajevo where—backed by the Ljubica Ivezić orphanage choir—he recorded the old revolutionary song "Padaj silo i nepravdo" ("Fall, (Oh) Force and Injustice").[7]

• Svetozar Vukmanović Tempo - vocals (on track 1)
• Amila Sulejmanović - backing vocals
• Amela - backing vocals
• Zumreta Midžić "Zuzi Zu" - backing vocals
• Nenad Stefanović Japanac - bass guitar
• Sinan Alimanović - keyboards
• Slobodan Sokolović - trombone
• Branko Podbrežnički - recorded by, mixed by
• Damir Begović - recorded by, mixed by
• Vlado Perić - design

Large section of the critics, however, disliked Pljuni i zapjevaj moja Jugoslavijo. In his Danas review, Dragan Kremer drew parallels between the developing economic and political crisis in SFR Yugoslavia and what he sees to be the band's ongoing creative crisis:

Unfortunately, what makes this album so 'Yugoslav' mostly has to do with the crisis and lack of criteria, which are no longer possible to hide.[3]

In 1987, Kremer went further while appearing as guest on TV Sarajevo's show Mit mjeseca (Myth of the Month), a programme pitting Yugoslav rock critics against the country's rock stars—allowing critics to directly pose questions to musicians sitting across from them in the same studio. In the case of Kremer's appearance, however, Bregović wasn't in the studio due to being on tour—Kremer's taped questions were thus shown to Bregović while his reaction was filmed.[8] Expressing his dislike of the band's new album, Kremer looked into the camera and addressed Bregović directly:

As a man who adores records with an almost fetishist passion, I hate what I'm about to say and do, but I feel compelled to [still go ahead with it] as means of posing a question. All great authors usually have the same answer to this question, which is that all their works, regardless of type, are equally dear to them and equally good, but — is it possible that this album is your [Bregović's] ugliest and dumbest work?[9]

Upon stating the above, Kremer tore up the Pljuni i zapjevaj moja Jugoslavijo album cover.[9] A visibly angry Bregović reacted by cursing under his breath and launching into an insult-laden tirade directed at Kramer:

It's hard, even for a fool, to harbour ambitions of being liked by everyone, especially by these kinds of fat little pigs with sideburns who probably still masturbate on a regular basis in their forties. Even asking me to answer this pile of imbecilic questions, I mean.... But there's something that doesn't make sense here: we're about to go on a tour with 400,000 copies of this album already sold, which guys like this crap on regularly. So, either the people are fools, which would make what this guy's saying right or I'm still better at writing songs than he is at writing reviews".[9][8]

The incident got a lot of attention in the Yugoslav media at the time with the angle of usually calm and collected Bregović losing his temper being the focus.[2]

Vukmanović's appearance on the record gained attention of The Guardian, which described this move as "some sort of Bregović's coup d'état".[2]

Alongside Plavi Orkestar's Smrt fašizmu! and Merlin's Teško meni sa tobom (a još teže bez tebe), Pljuni i zapjevaj, moja Jugoslavijo has occasionally been categorized as part of New Partisans, a mid-1980s collection of albums by Sarajevo-based bands, featuring sound centered on the Balkan folk-inspired pop rock music as well as containing lyrical and visual references to Yugoslavism within communist and socialist patriotic framework.[5]

The term New Partisans was introduced during fall 1986 by Plavi Orkestar's manager Malkolm Muharem, during Smrt fašizmu!'s promotional cycle as means of promoting his clients' latest release and potentially jump starting another (sub)cultural movement, similar to what he had participated in achieving three years earlier with the New Primitives. Unlike the New Primitive bands that all came from similar background and were of the same generation, the supposed New Partisan bands were much more disparate. Though the New Partisans never took off as a coherent movement, the term was nevertheless picked up by numerous Yugoslav journalists who continue to use it when describing various phases in Bijelo Dugme's, Dino Merlin's, Plavi Orkestar's and Hari Mata Hari's respective careers.[11]