I call this one: “The Creepy Cat Album”, due to its striking cover artwork of a feline sporting multicoloured facial fur. I assume Kinderen voor Kinderen chose this individual for his or her similarity to an antiapartheid-like symbol. KvK must have been making some sort of political statement, but I’m not smart enough to figure out what.
13 is the album, out of the three I have chosen to discuss, that finally motivated me to sit down and write this long-gestating post. I just chilled there listening to it yesterday and was all like: “Wow, I need to let the rest of the world know about this tremendous work of art!”.
Seriously. I wasn’t being a sarcastic prick or anything.
I’m going to begin at the end with “Zilvermijn”, a song about child slaves suffering in the titular silver mine digging-up gems for a villainous jeweller. Ho-lee shit. Now that’s dark! It’s lyrical theme is pretty veiled though, so hopefully not quite as disturbing to kids as an adult’s mind might translate it. I guess it could just be about a son or daughter being taken to a jewellery shop for the first time by their parents and the kid having fun playing with the products on display, but I dunno. The minimalist instrumentation, comprising mostly of percussion with sleazy saxophone accompaniment, adds to the haunting imagery. The outro repetition of “necklace” by the backing vocalists, assumedly to bring to mind a neck restraint worn by a prisoner or a noose slung up to deal with rebellious workers, is particularly chilling.
Right, back to the start, only ignoring the usual “Tune” theme, which exists to soundtrack the TV show’s title sequence and is on every album because it has to be.
“Lariekoek En ApeKool” pounds the door open wonderfully, with its energy being a model of how you should begin every damn album. If this doesn’t get you jumping up and down on your sofa or bed or family trampoline, then nothing will! Then we get the shimmering “Als We Jou Niet Hadden Gehad”, which gives one the sense of revolving on a merrygoround again and again and again. The next track, “Volwassen”, is fine, but certainly offers nothing inspired. Not bad. Just a little “meh”. At least we then get the potty and slightly-annoying-but-still-tons-of-fun “De Vlooienmars”, which summons the image of its lead singer sitting at a piano donning a powdered wig.
“Gewoon Te Gewoon” is a sweet, metronomic ballad, with vocals that just barely cope with the song’s requirements. I don’t mind this, as it adds to the “cuteness factor” that is sadly lacking from the polished recent releases. I cannot overemphasise the importance of “Vuur En Vlam” to my love of KvK. Upon listening to Spotify’s algorithm-generated “greatest hits” playlist (which I took and diligently tidied-up), that aided my initial introduction, this is one of the tracks that stood out and made me think: “Oh wait, this isn’t just a disinterested session musician cashing in on the family singalong market, something artistic is going on here!”. It’s a bombastic rock song, with a prominent drum beat and twanging Fender guitars, that will make you stop whatever you’re doing and listen intently.
I’m not one for slower songs, generally speaking, but “Mijn Vader Is Een Ster” is so sweet that I just can’t resist it. Sparse production. Sparse flare. But a charming lead singer, which is most important. “Vierkante Ogen” will send shivers down your spine, what with its hypnotic rhythm and life-changing melody and attention-grabbing guitar riff! A big part of KvK’s sound is its incredibly well thought out backing vocals, showcased no better than with this song. Damn, it’s so cool. It’s a candle-waving centrepiece, for sure!
Then we get some mischievousness with “Roddelkampioen”, which is so much fun, especially with its coquettish central keyboard riff. It also includes yet more amazing backing vocals, which are crucial to the goings on here. Oh and now here comes KvK’s best “calypso” number, tied only with 6’s “Vaders Allergie”, in the form of “Die Kassieklap”. Allow it to transport you to a tropical island, with you lounging or dancing by a campfire on the beach as the sun goes down and sea urchins frolic innocently in the surf.
Nice.
“Gluren Bij De Buren” has an initially-jarring twang to its lead guitar part, but it eventually settles into the background pleasantly. It has a dark melody to it, which is no surprise when you find out that the title translates to: “Peaking at the Neighbours”.
Cough.
Ah, “De Tafel Van Dertiel”, the one true dud on the album. I have nothing to say about it, other than I skip over it every time I listen to 13. It’s just not my sort of thing. And that’s that. So I guess that’s two things I have to say. I feel awful being so negative about a KvK song, but here I am typing these words.
That’s three.
You initially feel “Ik Ben Alles Kwijt” is another subdued ballad, but it erupts impressively into a staggeringly-epic chorus, with the backing vocals once again vying for attention over the lead singer. It’s almost as if I should write a separate post about the backing vocals across KvK’s oeuvre alone. Hmmm…
And so we come back to the end with “Zilvermijn”. About child slave labour. Or something. Anyway, I shall now awkwardly move along to the next album.
Necklace, necklace, necklace…
Do stay in touch, darlings.
Doei!
⬅︎ INTRODUCTION⎜15 (1994) ➡︎
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