Wat Is Er Mis Met Ons: The Bubbles’ Europop Gem That Still Slaps (Kinda)
Let’s cut the crap—this album ain’t perfect, but damn if it doesn’t have its moments. Released in ’91 by Belgian popsters The Bubbles, Wat Is Er Mis Met Ons is a Europop time capsule that screams early 90s cheese with just enough edge to keep you hooked. Produced by Marc De Coen and programmed by Marc "Rosso" van Puyenbroeck, this sucker hits hard where it counts, even if some tracks feel like they were slapped together during a smoke break.
The title track, “Wat Is Er Mis Met Ons,” kicks things off with a synth line so catchy you’ll wanna punch yourself for humming it later. It’s got that quintessential Europop vibe—glittery hooks, danceable beats, and lyrics dripping with melodrama. You can tell Dany Caen had fun arranging this mess because it’s all over the place but somehow works. Like, how do you screw up something this formulaic? Spoiler: you don’t. This song sticks to your brain like gum on a hot day, and honestly, I respect that.
Then there’s “Grootmoeders Tijd.” Oh man, this one’s wild. If the rest of the album feels like a neon-lit discothèque, this tune drags you into your grandma’s living room—minus the stale cookies and awkward small talk. There’s something oddly nostalgic about it, like hearing an old family argument set to music. Maybe it’s the retro synths or the way the vocals wobble between earnest and slightly off-key, but it’s memorable as hell. Not good memorable, necessarily, but memorable nonetheless. Like that one ex you still dream about for no reason.
The production? Solid. Marc De Coen knew what he was doing, keeping everything tight without overcooking it. And props to Maggi Toussaint for the art direction—it reeks of early 90s Eurotrash chic, which is exactly what this album needed. Pyramid Records might not have been shooting for the stars here, but they landed somewhere decent anyway.
So yeah, Wat Is Er Mis Met Ons isn’t gonna change your life or anything. But it’s a solid slice of Europop history that reminds us how low-fi magic used to thrive before everyone started obsessing over perfection. Honestly, listening to this feels like finding an old mixtape at a thrift store—scratched-up, kinda dated, but weirdly charming. And hey, isn’t that better than most of the soulless garbage we get today?
Final thought: If The Bubbles ever reunite, I hope they bring back the same chaotic energy. Or at least let Maggi design another cover. Peace out.
