Album Review: Brandweerman Brandweervrouw Een Zwarte Plek In Het Bos (1980)
Alright, let’s talk about this quirky little gem from way back in 1980. Brandweerman Brandweervrouw Een Zwarte Plek In Het Bos is one of those albums that feels like it was plucked straight outta a Dutch childhood time capsule. It’s got Ru van Veen, Koor Lidy Peters, and Elly Verbiest teaming up to deliver something that’s equal parts fun, wholesome, and just plain weird in the best possible way. Released under Benny Vreden Produkties, this album isn’t your typical kids’ music—it’s got personality, and honestly? I can’t stop thinking about it.
Let’s dive into two tracks that really stuck with me. First up, there’s “Een Zwarte Plek In Het Bos.” Now, if you’re anything like me, the title alone might make you go, “Wait… what’s so black in the forest?” Spoiler alert: it doesn’t get too dark or scary—this is still a children’s album after all—but there’s something oddly haunting yet comforting about the melody. The choir vocals by Koor Lidy Peters add this dreamy layer, like you’re wandering through the woods on a misty morning. You know how some songs kinda linger in your brain for days? Yeah, this one does that. By the third listen, I was humming along even though my Dutch vocab is basically limited to “kaas” and “fiets.”
Then there’s “Brandweerman-Brandweervrouw,” which is hands down my favorite track. I mean, who doesn’t love a good firefighter anthem? This tune has this bouncy rhythm that makes you wanna grab a hose and start pretending you’re saving the day. Ru van Veen brings the energy here, and Elly Verbiest adds this warm, motherly vibe to the mix. It’s catchy as heck, folks. Like, don’t be surprised if you catch yourself shouting “Brandweerman!” at random moments throughout your day. (Don’t worry—I won’t tell anyone.)
What makes this album stand out isn’t just its charm but also how unapologetically Dutch it feels. Listening to it is like stepping into a cozy living room somewhere in the Netherlands circa 1980, where everyone’s gathered around the record player, sipping hot chocolate and giggling at the silly lyrics. Sure, the production quality might feel a tiny bit dated now, but honestly? That’s part of why I adore it. There’s no over-polished nonsense here—just pure heart.
So yeah, reflecting on Brandweerman Brandweervrouw Een Zwarte Plek In Het Bos, I have to say, it’s not just an album; it’s a vibe. It reminds me of simpler times when music didn’t need auto-tune or flashy visuals to grab your attention. And hey, maybe that’s what we need more of today—a little less perfection and a lot more joy. Oh, and P.S., if someone could teach me how to pronounce “Brandweervrouw” properly, I’d appreciate it. My attempts sound like a cat sneezing.
