Imagine a song where the noisy heart of Amsterdam magically turns to chocolate, sending children into a frenzy as they devour it. The entire structure then melts away once you take the train from Amsterdam Lelylaan to Haarlemmermeer. This is the story of “Amsterdam is opeens van chocolade” (“Amsterdam is suddenly chocolate”), a song by the young alt-pop musician Thor Kissing. It exemplifies a cheeky and rebellious strand of 20th-century Dutch popular culture known as ludiek (“playfulness”), which may be making a comeback.
Kissing is a key figure in a new project aiming to capture what ludiek means in the 21st century: two compilation albums titled Nieuwe Nederlandse Naïviteit (“New Dutch Naivety”), promoting a diverse group of contemporary Dutch-language alternative pop artists. The first volume launched in October 2024 at a sparse youth centre in a remote Zaandam suburb. Volume two is scheduled for release this March in “hip” Amsterdam.
The music across both compilations varies wildly, ranging from glitchy electro-pop to ’90s alt-rock and doomy, Cure-like post-punk. Flemish voice artist Lila Maria de Coninck, who performed at the 2024 launch and appears on the latest compilation as part of the duo Welnu, loves the “playfulness and the imagination” of the music. She notes it’s “sometimes not well thought through,” but “challenges how music and language should sound and function.” De Coninck cites artists like Niek Hilkmann, Miriam Hochberg, and Joris Anne, who create colorful, self-taught worlds on the fringes of pop.
Many of the songs are simple and direct in character. Even when introspective, they possess a resilient, “bounce-back” quality. The spirit of footballer Johan Cruyff’s cryptic saying, Elk nadeel heb z’n voordeel (“Every disadvantage has its advantage”), echoes in tracks like Domtuig and Lucky Fonz III’s alt-gabber banger Allen verloren (begin opnieuw) (“All lost, start over”), or in Amsterdam by Zaandam band Tupperwr3. Their ode to a city of efficient transport, a highly educated populace, and menus with “pictures of the meals by each dish!” may be gently satirical, but it counters the popular view of Amsterdam as an unpleasantly overcrowded and expensive place to live.
The concept of ludiek has its roots in the 1938 work Homo Ludens by Dutch scholar Johan Huizinga, who saw play as crucial to human social development. Ludiek first entered Dutch public consciousness with the anarchist Provo protest movement of the 1960s, and over the following decades, it thumbed its nose at mainstream Dutch society. Art and performance were one outlet—for instance, cultural provocateur Wim T. Schippers created enormous public sculptures of feces. Television was another, spawning absurdist shows like Jiskefet or the children’s program Erwassus, which told fairy tales through gabber culture.
If ludiek has a specifically “Dutch” character, it might be a jaunty and versatile kind of playfulness. Its theatrics don’t aim to enforce strong political critiques, unlike similar European movements such as Monty Python or Dada. However awkward it may seem, ludiek typically proposes ideas for more inclusive and agreeable ways of living.
The organizer behind Nieuwe Nederlandse Naïviteit is Joost Weemhoff. A likable man in his 50s, Weemhoff works with “tough teenagers” in pre-vocational secondary education and also sings in Tupperwr3. Over coffee in Zaandam, he speaks warmly about ludiek’s history and character, and the “dirty, noisy, and smelly” Amsterdam of the early 1980s, where as a boy he experienced the punk explosion. What stuck with Weemhoff was a punk rallying cry: Wij maken onze eigen wereld (“We’re gonna make our own world”).
Most of this new generation of artists are young, white, middle-class, and progressive in outlook. But they also enjoy reflecting on things that don’t…In an increasingly homogeneous country, they didn’t quite fit. Weemhoff saw an eclecticism in their work that opened up broader ideas of autonomy and freedom. Above all, though, he wanted Nieuwe Nederlandse Naïviteit to break away from “behavior standards,” like the “masculine pretentiousness” he finds all too common in the Dutch music industry. He is determined to keep the project “modest and democratic” and acknowledges a strong Dutch Protestant character in his enterprise—from which he has earned “not one penny.”
The Protestant character Weemhoff mentions also brings to mind the Dutch ode to social propriety: Doe maar gewoon, wees maar gewoon jezelf (“Just act normal, just be yourself”). This suggests that singing in Dutch is no bad thing—an idea that runs counter to conventional pop wisdom. Weemhoff asks, “Why must you sing in English nowadays?” He believes the Netherlands’ pop music scene has always carried an unspoken “gratitude to our American liberators,” reinforced by an ongoing thirst for Anglo-American musical trends. As a result, it became convenient for Dutch acts to sing in English.
“And there is something very pretentious about that idea,” Weemhoff says. “If you sing in Dutch, you have to be poetic, like Boudewijn de Groot, or sentimental, or even vulgar. But your music was never going to be ‘really cool’ or international, like the British or Americans.”
Uncool rules now? It can seem that way. Buurtbeheer’s esoteric singer Jacco Weener—often wearing a homemade “magic robe”—urges his young peers to “respect our veterans!” Kwartet Niek Hilkmann sings about the difficulties of maintaining a public allotment. Others reference everyday aspects of Dutch life, like dreary weather, coffee breaks at work, or, in the case of Miriam Hochberg’s splenetic track Antirookbeleid (“No-smoking policy”), the growing frustration of not being able to smoke in public. Disappearing Dutch street-life symbols—like the snoep- en tabakswinkel (sweet and cigarette shop) or the local Chin. Ind. Spec. Rest (Chinese takeaway)—sometimes appear in promotional material.
Does this music reflect a form of discontented, even reactionary nostalgia? The subject matter and aesthetic do sometimes echo the catch-all phrase Vroeger was alles beter (“Everything was better before”), which today is often associated with protests—frequently with a right-wing slant—about unaccountable governments, farmers’ rights, and asylum seekers. But as Weemhoff is quick to point out, some things genuinely were better—particularly those reflecting a more tolerant and progressive society. His experience as a primary school teacher in the 1990s coincided with the gradual loss of the broad education young children once received, which included crafts, arts, and lessons in social responsibility. “Now, none of that remains: just subjects geared toward getting grades,” he says.
Weemhoff feels the country has become steenrijk (“filthy rich”) but also somewhat intolerant in outlook. He wants the cheekiness of the Nieuwe Nederlandse Naïviteit project to redirect Dutch rebelliousness toward more progressive ends. Jacco Weener’s magic robe and sloganeering, for example, directly recall Robert Jasper Grootveld’s Provo shock actions of the early 1960s. At the album launch, we watched Teuntje—a boy in a skeleton suit—sing, “You’ve got cancer in your legs because of nuclear weapons,” over a dolorous soundtrack played by his parents, Kunsttranen (“Art tears”). It was silly, Dutch, naive, and daring: a perfect example of modern ludiek as the touchstone for a more expressive spirit.The second volume of “Nieuwe Nederlandse Naïviteit” will be released on March 27th.
Frequently Asked Questions
FAQs Uncool Rules The LoFi Pop Pranksters
Beginner Questions
1 Who or what are Uncool Rules
Uncool Rules is a Dutch musical duo known for their playful lofi pop sound and a chaotic prankster spirit that revives the anarchic energy of the historical Dada art movement in a modern context
2 What does reviving the Dutch version of Dada mean
It means they use absurdity randomness and humor to challenge conventional music and art much like the original Dadaists did a century ago They apply this antiart attitude specifically through a Dutch cultural lensthink dry wit surrealism and a DIY approach
3 What does lofi pop sound like
Imagine catchy pop melodies and song structures but recorded roughly on cheap equipment It often includes tape hiss imperfect vocals and simple homemade instrumentation giving it a warm intimate and unpolished charm
4 Are they a joke band or are they serious artists
They are serious artists using jokes as their medium The prankster element is a core part of their artistic philosophy not just a gimmick The humor makes their critique of mainstream culture more accessible and engaging
Advanced Practical Questions
5 How do their pranks actually work as art
Their pranks are designed to disrupt expectations They force the audience to question the passive consumption of art and music creating memorable experiences that are about the idea as much as the song itself
6 What are the benefits of this chaotic Dadainspired approach
It fosters creativity without limits encourages critical thinking in the audience and creates a strong distinctive identity It breaks down the barrier between artist and fan making art feel more participatory and less pretentious
7 Whats a common criticism or problem with this style
Some listeners may find the music too unserious or the antics distracting from the musical craft The irony and inside jokes can sometimes feel exclusive or confusing to newcomers who arent in on the artistic context
8 Can you give a concrete example of their Dadaist method
While specific stunts change a classic Dada tactic they might use is creating a song with seemingly nonsense lyrics that
