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pomenik Neznanom Umetniku (eng: Monument to an unknown artist) is the fifth and a half album of dark-electro project ALONE from Belgrade.
pro CDr | colour booklet with lyrics | 50 min approx.
Recorded 2008-2010 in "Vitebsk 1920" studio, released in December 2010.
Strangely light and romantic, inspired by an undiscovered heritige of the new wave, and by the social-abstract monuments of the former Yugoslavia.

Alone - Spomenik Neznanom Umetniku

9. [untitled]
10. AWAY

As a new year's present, and a visual addendum to the album, Alone gives you the gallery of 12 landscapes for your desktop - the 'monumental' calendar for 1963 and 1983 [compatible with 2011] in classic and widescreen formats:

ckassic format

widescreen format


Worldwide customers can order the album from

Serbian customers can order the album via this mail: kontakt

Alone would like to thank his friends who participated in the recordings:
Tina and Dunja Milošević - vocals on Blue Beam
Igor Petrušić - vocals on Altruizam Anonime
Andrej Vojković - bass on An Unread Note
Aleka - "Poreklo nepoznato"
Nikola Cakić - engineering on An Unread Note

The author agreed to enlighten us on some key aspects of the album, in the following text:



   - “This is not a return, this is a departure towards the unknown”
These were the words which concluded the previous, fifth Alone album, Aeon wave from 2007, stranger than all Alone’s previous albums. If someone has noticed this promise and, perhaps, still remembers it, he will probably be surprised with the new album. Instead of setting course for yet even deeper cosmos from the point at which Aeon wave arrived, the album Spomenik neznanom umetniku (eng: Monument to an unknown artist) turned out to be kind of... romantic!? And even - light.
Whatever happened to the ‘departure towards the unknown’?

I assure you, there’s no need to panic, the pilot of our ship still decidedly leads our expedition towards the outer limits of the known space. By now, we would
have probably found ourselves in that unknown place, on the sixth album... if only we hadn’t felt the sudden urge for one unexpected, ‘fifth and a half’ album along the way, pictured as a short excursion into - pure sentimentality.

The catalyst for this unexpected ‘sentimental deviation’ was discovery of the countless obscure musical projects from the new wave era.
Fascinated, bewildered and inspired by the inexhaustibility of the undiscovered treasure of DIY and cassette culture of the 80s, I felt once again an old passion - opposed to my usual grandiose artistic ambitions - the passion for easy and simple creativity, direct and modest, even naive and childish. However, every time I would try to give in to this rejuvenating desire for simplicity, I would be stopped by my grandiose vanity, which hardly ever allows me the coziness of creating modest and sentimental work. Fortunately, I have been able to outwit it with a trick question: can there be a greater challenge for a megalomaniac than - a simple work?

Vanity had no other option but to let me do what I want. Even vanity admits that the man who publishes all his works, from the greatest to the most miserable ones, is more honorable than the man who makes a rigid selection of his works, and commits self-censorship in an attempt to impress us with his “genius”. If works of art are moldings of the soul as much as of the intellect, they need to be more than just well thought-out. They need to be heartfelt.

Hence - the unexpected sentimental in-between-album. :)


At first conceived as a homage to anonymous artists whose works have never been, nor will ever be discovered, the spontaneously developing album further widened its main theme into the thought of the metaphysical impossibility of any contact whatsoever. The songs on the album are lost in ether, between souls and their worlds, handwritten ballads sent out in bottles, with no recipient specified. Here, the anonymity and the obscurity of the author or the message are not the only essential things anymore, but so are the obscurity of the recipient, or the unlikeliness of the communication between two worlds, two desert planets, two persons. All we really have is just a bare hope that we will stumble upon someone in the night, a hope so reminiscent of the lost destinies of the new wave, forgotten cassettes which come into our hands today, like bottled messages, from who knows where.

Here I must underline that the longing, apparent in Alone’s bottled messages, is much wider than the longing of love. Songs on the new album are primarily odes of longing for the new horizon, for the new experience, for an escape from the wasteland, and more than anything - odes of longing for the wondrous. The hypnotic sense of attraction to all things which are neither pretty, nor ugly, nor even clear at all, but are - entirely alien, just like a postcard from out of this world, which rouses our encouraging premonition that other, utterly different worlds can be discovered.

At the mystic peaks of alienation, when we sense how everything, absolutely everything turns alien and absurd, that sense might destroy us... but it can also save us. For, at the moment when our world looses all meaning, we find ourselves in a new, unknown reality, rich with an inexhaustible plenty of the alien and - the wondrous. The character of that liberating experience is nothing short of religious and, in ecstasy of our newly acquired incomprehansion, we begin to admire and to bow to the supreme artist, whose very essence we define as ‘the strangeness’ and, literally, we begin to worship everything we don’t understand.


In his strivings for the wondrous, and strivings to address his creator, his loved ones, the dead and the unborn, man made equally wondrous monuments. Those epic concrete moldings of the intellect and the soul, more eternal than any creator, aren’t they after all the border stones between the worlds? Sometimes, when we see their abstract bodies stabbed into our landscape, they will seem like only the furthest extremities of the structures whose titan dimensions could not fit into the cosmos they belong to.

However, the spirit which has been chiseled into the monument hasn’t been kept imprisoned inside it. Because the monument is not just the stone, it’s the whole occupying landscape. The spirit in the stone becomes an additional function of the natural influence by which landscapes shape our inner spaces. Basically, the monuments are ‘the transmitters’, and the nature is ‘the amplifier’ of the spirit, in time and space. Many people who grew up in the shadows of social-abstract monuments of old Yugoslavia know what I am talking about here. Archetypical as much as futuristic, those megaliths were nothing else but the emotional foundations for construction of the new spirit, required as a spiritual basis for the then forthcoming ideology.

Nowadays, after the winds have blown away even the memory of the ideology [what was it called, anyway? who knows, who cares...], the spirit of the monument is even stronger and clearer: epic, heroic, but also cosmic and - alien. Left on their own, alone in the nature, monuments live their eternal lives like homunculi who were set free from some unfinished experiment. Their spirit is what inspired the vision of my album - the nature inhabited only by anonymous spirits turned to giant stones.

So, here’s another archeological piece of music, another splinter of some spirit, born-and-buried under layers of infosphere, for some unknown future explorers...
That is, unless the layers somehow fossilize themselves into one universal layer of information fertilizer for the future creations.
Hey, that doesn’t sound that bad, either!

Oh, and also, if you’re picking music to spend the rest of your life with on a desert planet, well... this modest album probably won’t be enough for you.