Screenshot of thumbnail image of the YouTube video for the Dubioza kolektiv song “Yebiga” featuring the character Đipalo Junuz, played by Zenit Đozić. Fair use.
The Bosnian band Dubioza Kolektiv has released a new song named “Yebiga,” (a common expletive similar to “Screw that,” translated as “What the hell” in the subtitles). The song offers a sharp and funny critique of society’s growing dependence on artificial intelligence (AI) and algorithmic decision-making, enabling a technocracy — (in the sense of rule by tech billionaire oligarchs) — instead of democracy.
Known for blending humor, political commentary and catchy rhythms, this internationally popular band continues its tradition of addressing contemporary issues through satire.
In the past, they have confronted media overload, democratic backsliding, migration to the US, online music piracy, Balkan stereotypes, the reality TV industry, the Flat Earth conspiracy theory, and more. This time, they are focusing on the embrace of technology and the erosion of independent thinking.
They published the video of the song in Bosnian, with English and Spanish subtitles:
The opening describes the rise of a digital brotherhood in which Elon Musk, Peter Thiel and Jeff Bezos symbolize the arrival of technocracy, setting the tone for a critique of systems increasingly governed by algorithms. In the chorus, the band ironically celebrates a world where AI replaces books and thinking altogether:
A.I. baš nas briga
ne treba nam više knjigaAI, svi smo isti
ne moramo više mislit’
AI, we don’t care
go and throw the books away (we don’t need books anymore)AI, we’re the same
we don’t need to use our brains (we don’t need to think anymore)
Through repetition and deliberately simplistic phrasing, the lyrics mimic the very mindset they criticize — one that prioritizes convenience over critical engagement.
The song’s central refrain, “AI is the boss now; there’s no going back…what the hell!” captures a sense of resignation toward technological dominance, while the use of humor and colloquial language underscores the absurdity of surrendering human agency to machines.
In another verse, the band contrasts physical labor with automated thinking, suggesting a world where humans perform routine tasks while machines make decisions:
Čovjek fizikaneri,
nek’ razmišlja mašinaAko mene pitaš
‘vako mi je draže
Radim tačno ‘nako
kako “kompijuter” kaže
Humans do the labor,
we will let machines think.If you ask me,
I prefer it much better this way —
I just do whatever
mighty computer says
This portrayal reflects broader concerns about algorithmic authority, echoing debates about automation, digital platforms, and the societal impact of artificial intelligence.
Reviving Yugoslav comedy gold
The music video, directed by Vedran Mujagić, reinforces these themes through a playful yet unsettling visual narrative, featuring exaggerated characters and scenes that highlight conformity and passive acceptance of technological control.
The video features the funny character Đipalo Junuz, played by Zenit Đozić, and the fictional invention HEPEK — a device composed of a log and electronic circuits.
Both were introduced in the legendary sketch comedy show “Top Lista Nadrealista” (“The Surrealists’ Top Chart”) or TLN for short, produced by TV Sarajevo between 1984 and 1991, and widely regarded as one of the most influential satirical shows in Yugoslav pop culture.
Part of the subcultural “New Primitivism” art movement, TLN was like a local version of “Monty Python’s Flying Circus.” Many of its sketches, including HEPEK, became cultural memes decades before the internet.
During the tensions that led to Yugoslav Wars of the 1990s, HEPEK was satirically presented as a device that helped resolve conflicts — everything from kindergarten disagreements and disputes between neighbors over a cow’s grazing ground, to frustrations with bureaucracy and inter-ethnic tensions in parliament:
In the first such sketch from 1990, using pseudo-technical and exaggerated bureaucratic language, the character Đipalo Junuz explains that HEPEK is an invention developed in the supposed new technology center of Čeljigovići, which in reality was — and still is — a small rural village in the Bosnian mountains near Sarajevo. He claims that the villagers had invented “the splitting of atoms, artificial insemination and the Hrkljuš,” a fictional sport that also became a meme. Other sketches present the villagers as “economically and educationally” challenged: they use non-elite language, dress in old clothes, and live in modest homes.
In the words of Đipalo Junuz:
HEPEK, to ti je ko ono, kod situacija kada si čoek ono nešto na živčanom sistemu, ono nekako pobudali, kada se natakari na tebe, ti na njega djeluješ hepekom i situacija za čas se smiri.
Znači kada se on natakari na tebe, ti ga hepekiraš i situacija se smiri.
HEPEK, it’s like that, in situations where you have done something to a person’s nervous system, you have somehow aroused it to become crazy, when he attacks you, you act on him with HEPEK and the situation calms down in an instant. So when he turns on you, you HEPEK him and the situation calms down.
In the new Dubioza Kolektiv video, different situations and dilemmas involving the use of AI are solved by applying the upgraded version of HEPEK; the song ends with the signature “HEPEK sound.”
This approach of reintroducing cult TV comedy elements resonated with the band’s audience: the YouTube version got over one and a half million views in a month, which is a lot for a song from the Western Balkans.
Dubioza Kolektiv has built a reputation across the region and beyond for tackling political and social issues — from nationalism and corruption to conspiracy theories and media manipulation. Their previous work has often intersected with disinformation themes, using satire to expose flawed logic and manipulative narratives.
With “Yebiga,” the band shifts its focus to a different but related domain: the risks of outsourcing critical thinking to opaque technological systems. In a region where media literacy and information integrity remain key challenges, such cultural interventions play an important role in encouraging audiences to reflect on their relationship with technology.
By framing complex issues through humor and accessible language, Dubioza Kolektiv once again demonstrates how popular culture can contribute to public awareness — this time by asking a simple but urgent question: “What happens when we stop thinking for ourselves?”
