By cave 
As someone who’s been passionate about Belpop for years, I’ve learned that the most stunning gems are rarely found on the radio. They live in dusty archives, yellowed cassettes, or in forgotten basement gigs. Dromen Zijn Vervlogen – De Vlaamse Onderstroom 1980–1988 is one of those hidden treasures — a compilation that doesn’t merely collect music, but revives a long-lost feeling: the Flemish underground as a reflection of an era where everything seemed possible… except conformity.
A curator with a mission
This record was curated by Niek Hilkmann, a Dutch musician, writer, and cultural historian with a soft spot for the absurd and the overlooked. Hilkmann is no stranger to the world of offbeat Dutch-language music: with his own band, Kwartet Niek Hilkmann, he delivers idiosyncratic pop that teeters between The Velvet Underground and Flemish fairground philosophy. His fascination for forgotten sounds and cultural margins makes him the ideal guide through this musical excavation.
His first compilation, De Toekomst Laat Me Koud, is a double LP that focuses on alternative Dutch-language pop music from the 1980s. The selection features obscure and experimental tracks that mostly flew under the radar at the time, but now reach a new audience thanks to Hilkmann’s sharp ear and sense of history.
The follow-up is Dromen Zijn Vervlogen, a compilation that zooms in on the Flemish counterpart of that same musical undercurrent. This second album contains 24 tracks that again highlight the melancholy, absurdity, and creativity of the 1980s in the Low Countries.
Together, these two compilations form a fascinating musical time capsule that gives alternative Dutch-language music the stage it deserves. If you’d like, I can also help you put together a listening list!
A record as time capsule
What makes Dromen Zijn Vervlogen – De Vlaamse Onderstroom 1980–1988 so special is the cohesion in its diversity. From the theatrical synthpop of Arbeid Adelt! to the existential coldwave of De Brassers, the absurd self-mockery of Bange Konijnen to the political punk of De Kommeniste — each track contributes to a larger narrative. It’s the story of young people who didn’t see themselves reflected in mainstream Belpop, and thus forged their own language, sound, and stage.
The production is often lo-fi, the lyrics at times absurd, other times painfully sincere. And that’s precisely what makes this record so powerful. It’s not a polished retrospective, but a raw collage of voices that refused to be tamed — and for that reason, it feels more relevant than ever.
More than just music
Dromen Zijn Vervlogen isn’t a compilation you put on in the background. It’s a record that challenges you, provokes you, sometimes even makes you uncomfortable. But it also makes you smile, nod, and occasionally shout “yes!” aloud. As a Belpop fan, I don’t just feel moved — I feel affirmed: this is proof that our musical history is richer, stranger, and far more kaleidoscopic than we’re often led to believe.
It’s a memory palace made of vinyl and lyrical defiance — a reminder that beneath the mainstream’s polished surface, a different Belgium once pulsed in dimly lit venues and homemade studios. These voices didn’t ask for permission. They carved out space, whispered and screamed their truths, and in doing so, gave us a cultural legacy that’s as fragile as it is fierce.
In an age of algorithmic predictability, this collection is a gift: unpredictable, uncompromising, and stubbornly human. Here’s to the misfits, the murmurs, the modulators — De Vlaamse Onderstroom that never really faded, just waited to be heard again
Tracklist
Side A
Aroma Di Amore – Het Gesticht (The Asylum)
This Leuven-based band fused poetry, punk, and electronics into a singular sound. Het Gesticht is a smoldering indictment of social institutions, driven by a menacing saxophone line.
Schudden Voor Gebruik – De Tandarts (The Dentist)
An obscure Antwerp formation with a fondness for absurdism. This track is as uncomfortable as a real dental appointment — but with a beat you can dance to.
Arbeid Adelt! – De Dag Dat Het Zonlicht Niet Meer Scheen (The Day the Sunlight Stopped Shining)
Known for their theatrical flair and tongue-in-cheek lyrics. Marcel Vanthilt and Luc Van Acker deliver an apocalyptic synthpop track with a wink and a smirk.
Guy De Simpele – Zes-West (Six-West)
A cult figure from the Ghent scene. His lo-fi approach and naïve vocal style make this song both charming and disarmingly sincere.
Vibø – De Nieuwe Zakelijkheid (The New Objectivity)
A minimalist act inspired by the eponymous art movement. Tight, detached, and with a subtle nod to the chilly aesthetic of the 1980s.
De Brassers – Twijfels (Doubts)
A legendary coldwave band from Hamont. Twijfels is an existential classic: dark, intense, and still deeply resonant.
Side B
De Kommeniste – Ritmische Dans (Rhythmic Dance)
A satirical group with a political twist. This track is an ironic ode to the dancefloor, tinged with agitprop.
Frontaal – Haal Het Geld Waar Het Zit (Grab the Money Where It Is)
A punk protest song from a band never shy of the stage. Raw and straight to the point.
Wolfgang – Wacht Maar (Just Wait)
A melancholic synthpop artist with a flair for introspection. Wacht maar is short but powerful, with an airy, delicate atmosphere.
UNION – Antarticantado
An experimental duo blending ambient and wave. This track feels like an icy dream.
Rosse November – De Grote Dag (The Big Day)
A band with a poetic bent. De Grote Dag teeters between hope and menace, with a lingering buildup.
Mensen Blaffen – Modderman (Mud Man)
Known for their absurd lyrics and high-energy performances. Modderman is a raw, almost Dadaist track.
Side C
Pas De Deux – Iedereen Is Zot (Everyone Is Crazy)
This duo (Walter Verdin & Dett Peyskens) gained notoriety for their eccentric 1983 Eurovision appearance. Here they present a playful, minimalist track that celebrates life’s everyday absurdity.
Bange Konijnen – Ik Ben Niet Interessant (I’m Not Interesting)
A Ghent-based band with a love for self-deprecation and existential doubt. This track is disarmingly honest, with a catchy lo-fi pop sound.
Vankessel – Leugens! (Lies!)
Luk Vankessel, a solo artist with a sharp tongue, delivers a scathing critique of hypocrisy. The vocals are piercing, the music tight and urgent.
De Primas – Nerveus (Nervous)
A relatively unknown group with a jittery groove and lyrics that perfectly capture the tension of the ’80s. Think Talking Heads, but Flemish and edgier.
Vazie – Dans (Dance)
An ironic dancefloor hit from a band that straddles synthpop and absurdism. The title says it all: dancing, but with a furrowed brow.
Kamiel – …En ‘K Leven Van Den Dop (…And I Live on the Dole)
Kamiel paints a poignant portrait of unemployment in Flanders, using dry humor and minimalist accompaniment. A hidden gem.
Side D
Peter Praet & Praeters – Dromen Zijn Vervlogen (Dreams Have Faded)
The title track of the album. Peter Praet (not to be confused with the economist!) delivers a melancholic, poetic song about faded ideals. A perfect encapsulation of the album’s theme.
Zo Wie Zo – In M’n Kamer (In My Room)
An intimate track from a band centered on introspection. The atmosphere is sultry and claustrophobic, but also comforting.
Fred A. – Ik en Mezelf (Me and Myself)
Fred A. (alias Fred Angst) was a pioneer in the Flemish DIY scene. This song is a schizophrenic dialogue with himself, musically fragmented and lyrically intriguing.
De Kreet – De Zus Van Adeline (Radio Edit) (Adeline’s Sister)
A band with a taste for drama and kitsch. This track is catchy, with a tragic undertone.
De Zwarte Komedie – Ulrike
A politically charged song referencing Ulrike Meinhof and the Red Army Faction. The band blends punk with social critique and theatrical flair.
De Hufters – Anders Gelukkig (Otherwise Happy)
A closer with punk attitude and surprisingly tender lyrics. De Hufters combine rawness with melancholy — and it works wonderfully.
Vinyl Specs
| Label: | Re – LP019 |
|---|---|
| Format: | 2 x Vinyl, LP, Compilation |
| Country: | Netherlands |
| Released: |