Erros Djarot never considered himself a cultural figure, even though many people often called him that. He felt more comfortable being described as a writer, a dreamer, a songwriter, and a lover of his nation. Born in 1950 from a blend of nationalism, art, and spirituality—his mother was a civil servant and a Classical singer, while his father was a TNI (Indonesian military) officer from a line of religious scholars—Eros grew up with a deep sensitivity to words, emotions, and events.
He is known as a true Soekarnoist, who placed his hopes in the freedom of thought and the inner sovereignty of the people. He believed in dreams.
“I have a dream,” he once said—quoting Martin Luther King, but with a profoundly Indonesian spirit.
His dream was of a leader not only politically strong but capable of bringing beauty to the nation—beauty in the form of justice, humanity, and solidarity with the marginalized.
However, over time, many of his hopes ended in disappointment. While he acknowledged President Soeharto’s contributions, he also saw how national leadership had become increasingly shallow. Megawati once gave him hope, but that too eventually turned into heartbreak.
“If you ask me who the ideal leader is?” he said. “I can only answer: I have a dream.”
Beneath his gentle voice, Eros is a challenger. His songs are not just about love—they’re about poverty, corruption, and the abuse of power. He writes protest songs that are subtle yet sharp. He doesn’t curse—he satirizes. He doesn’t inflame emotions—he ignites awareness. Interestingly, Eros often asks himself:
“Why is it that the things I wrote—those difficult words, those old lyrics still feel so relevant today?”
This is not a complaint. It is a profound reflection on the stagnation of the times—on a nation seemingly stuck in the same problems, generation after generation. And perhaps that’s why Eros’s songs remain relevant: because our society has yet to truly change.
Barongs Band, which he formed in his youth, became his main vehicle for voicing all his restlessness. Today, he continues through Barongs Band Millennial—a new formation led by younger musicians. Recently, they performed at the Jakarta Arts Building. A performance that wasn’t just moving, but truly world-class.
As a music lover, I can only say one thing: this was a show of rock arrangements and powerful lyrics, delivered by young musicians full of passion and idealism. It’s no exaggeration to say this is a work that could stand proudly on any world stage.
Erros Djarot may not be a frequent face on television or social media. But it is precisely from this silence that his voice gains depth. His songs are not just heard—they are contemplated. And his dreams are not merely spoken—they are passed on.
He does not chase popularity. He pursues honesty. And in every note, every word, and every pause he chooses with care, there is one eternal message:
That art is the most elegant form of resistance.