This song was composed in 1994, at the time when we were living the the Netherlands.
The war in (now ex-) Yugoslavia was at its peak. I felt terrible about it. We moved Skopje when I was six, being born in Greece. And I was accepted there. I learned school, made friends, and eventually formed a band (Super Nova) that started gigging in many parts of Yugoslavia. We loved the country, the way of life, the freedom.
And then, this was broke. There were rumours, but one didn't believe them! A war? No! It simply can't happen. But it did and it was terrible. Sarajevo, the pearl of the country, the city with the most amazing burek, hospitality and people - was destroyed mentally and spiritually, as well as physically and economically. But that mental, that spiritual destruction of Sarajevo and the rest of the country, where people were eventually forced to hate their neighbours, was the deepest destruction.
With money, one can build bridges, cities and economies. One can't buy dead people back, can't buy the trust back, can't buy the charming neighbourhoods back.
This is why I was deeply suffering during the course of the war, but especially in 1994, in its climax.
And in this year, in this depressed and confused state of mind, I wrote some of my most beautiful, peaceful, serene instrumentals, including this one, Tops (Врвови).
Was it my answer to the war?
I don't know.
I only remember that I was surprised by what comes out of my hands. How can this music flow in this awful time? Who sends it? Where is that sunny melody coming from in a room in rainy Haarlem?
Many questions, few answers.
This is the story of the instrumental Tops.