Alright, buckle up, because we’re diving into Wil U Een Stekkie by Hetty Blok En Leen Jongewaard—a quirky slice of 1967 Dutch magic that somehow still slaps harder than most modern musical theater crap. This isn’t your grandma’s polite soundtrack; it’s got teeth, sass, and enough theatrical flair to make you forget you’re listening to something older than color TV.
First off, let’s talk about the title track, “Wil U Een Stekkie?” (translation: “Do You Want a Little Piece?”). Holy hell, this tune hits like a sugar rush wrapped in glitter. The lyrics—courtesy of A.M.G. Schmidt—are sharp as a tack, bouncing between cheeky innuendo and straight-up bold-faced fun. Paired with Harry Bannink’s bouncy orchestration, it’s impossible not to picture some absurdly choreographed stage number where everyone’s twirling umbrellas or throwing pies at each other. I mean, come on—it’s ridiculous, but damn if it doesn’t stick in your head like gum on a hot sidewalk. Every time I hear those strings swell up behind Hetty Blok’s voice, I wanna grab someone by the shoulders and shout, “LISTEN TO THIS MADNESS!”
Then there’s “Wij Zijn Bang Voor De Bullebak” (“We’re Afraid of the Bully”), which is basically the anti-bullying anthem no one asked for—but secretly needed—in the ‘60s. It’s dark, brooding, and kinda eerie when you really think about it. Like… these two are singing about being terrified of some jerk, but they do it with such dramatic gusto that you can’t help but laugh. Is it supposed to be serious? Satire? Who cares! The choir backing them sounds like they’re auditioning for an opera, while Harry Bannink’s orchestra sneaks in little jabs of tension throughout. You feel the fear, alright—but also, weirdly, empowerment. By the end, you’re ready to march right up to the schoolyard bully yourself and tell ‘em where they can shove their lunch money.
What makes this album wild is how unapologetically over-the-top it feels. Sure, it’s from the Netherlands, sure, it’s labeled under "Stage & Screen," but honestly, it plays more like a fever dream of what happens when you mix Broadway ambition with Eurovision-level camp. And yeah, maybe the production quality screams '60s—like, hello, we can hear every mic pop—but that just adds to its charm. It’s raw, unhinged, and oddly relatable, even today.
So here’s the kicker: after blasting through this thing, I realized something—I’d rather listen to Wil U Een Stekkie on repeat than half the stuff clogging Spotify playlists nowadays. Maybe that says more about me than the album, but hey, sometimes chaos is exactly what you need. Now excuse me while I go find out what “stekkie” actually means…
