Review

A little over a year ago, De Vlaamse Primitieven—a Belgian duo playing a wide variety of string instruments—released their debut album, causing quite a stir within their particular scene. This small world is populated by eccentrics and oddballs who, as a general rule, gather in darkened rooms at late hours to indulge their fringe inclinations and idiosyncratic interests—for instance, by attending concerts such as the one given by Freek Vreys and Jan Boudart, which took place in May 2025 at the Dropa-House in Antwerp and is now available as a live album. Employing banjo, 6- and 12-string guitars, small bells, zither, and various other gently utilized jingling and rattling instruments, they improvised and performed their hypnotic, meditative music to the great delight of everyone present. Brandstichters En Oplichters documents this session, which runs just over 40 minutes. And a good thing, too. Now, for those not quite so close to the scene—and who might be completely baffled by all this—let’s take a different approach: The instrumental music of this Belgian duo can be classified as psychedelic folk, an alchemical concoction owing its recipe to a host of highly disparate ingredients. One might simmer some sinister British folk à la the Third Ear Band, stir it together with American minimalism in the vein of Henry Flynt, then fold in some "American Primitive" guitar work à la John Fahey; finally—depending on taste—one might add a dash of New Age music in the style of Master Wilburn Burchette, or perhaps some mildly stoned silliness à la Witthüser & Westrupp, finishing it all off with a touch of spiritual jazz to round out the flavor. Et voilà! You have a mind-expanding musical tincture that—when administered in just the right dose, trickled gently into the ears—proves simultaneously mildly narcotic and yet stimulating! While the album may not come with an accompanying package insert listing its ingredients, that is roughly how the experimental music of De Vlaamse Primitieven is brought into being. In the performance of their acoustic sorcery—and not only on the recording documented here—they have proven themselves to be consummate entertainers capable of captivating their audience. For a time, they were out to make their mark, leaving a trail of enthusiastic impressions at every available opportunity—both musically and through their eccentric, humorous stage presence. In this way, they quickly cultivated a small but devoted fan base. With Brandstichters En Oplichters, that fan base now receives a high-quality artifact for their archives. The future alone will reveal how—and at what pace—the journey continues for De Vlaamse Primitieven. I hope there is more to come, for this virtuoso duo achieves something truly extraordinary whenever they pick up their instruments. Their creative dynamic—characterized, on the one hand, by a tendency toward transcendence expressed in wistful, otherworldly melodies, and on the other by an ever-so-slightly tipsy approach that grounds those sacred gestures, giving both the music and its performance a decidedly earthy turn—is something few others could hope to replicate. In short, they have the grit of the street beneath the fingernails of their hands, raised high toward the heavens: "Gimme dat ol’ time religion!"