Plima Ruku from More broji by Jedro

The air fills with the rustle of rope, a low, steady pull coiling around you as this track takes hold. Jedro wanted to capture that visceral sense of hands on the capstan, working as one, the pledges passing from mouth to mouth, each voice an echo yet a unique strand. It's built as a canon, a layering of voices without a standard chorus, the entries coming at precise two-bar intervals until it feels like the whole crew is breathing together, dense yet open. Making it full without becoming muddy in the mix was a specific studio hurdle, like trying to haul too many nets without tangling. The clipped handclaps, with their sharp transients, mimic the quick drip of tar, grounding everything. A lijerica maintains a constant tremor, keeping that underlying tension alive, while hydrophones pulse subtly, sidechained to the chain shaker, designed to make the floor seem to breathe underfoot. You feel your calves tighten, your fingers dig in, bracing for a swell before surrendering to it. This is meant to stir a deep warmth, almost a joyous ache, where the shared weight of the collective finally lifts you, and you belong.

We're Jedro. Our rock is from the Adriatic coast, with klapa voices singing our real stories. Feel the salt, hear the sea in every chord.