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OUFTI new single by 3’AIN
new album soon
Berchem.
Café Des Arts.
Dancing. Cheering. Small room. Big night.
30 years on stage.
Thanks to you.
Photo credits: @maellepouppez & @sarah.fj.baur
[Part 1/2] This week. Different years. Same band. 30 years on stage. Brussels based. Jaune Toujours.
Some weeks are stages. Crowds packed in tight. Lights up. Brass in the air.
2002 Brussels. Beurschouwburg Bis. Camping Del Mundo. Sold out before the first note.
2006 Ancienne Belgique. cluB recorded live. Sweat. Breath. Bodies moving as one.
2009 Brussels. Under a railway bridge. A press photo by iconic photographer Stephan Vanfleteren.
2019 London. BBC Radio 3. Guest passes. Studio silence. Music travelling through air again.
2020 Balcony sessions. Doors closed everywhere. Songs finding their way outside.
Different places. Same week, stretched across time. We don’t archive the past. We carry it. Still playing. Still moving. Still open to the next room.
First single of the forthcoming album, out on March 27.
Oufti: a small word carrying strong emotional weight, much like the composition itself.
Embroidered on wool, just as the music is stitched with quarter-tones and improvisations.
This week. Different years. Same band. 30 years on stage. Brussels based. Jaune Toujours.
Some weeks are microphones. Radio rooms. Studio rooms. Balconies turned into stages.
1999 Gent. Hotsy-Totsy. Small club. Big lungs.
2003 Vooruit. “Oorlog is geen kunst.” Music arguing with war.
2005–2006 Beusichem. A Belgian newspaper note: the live album is coming.
2008–2009 Bochum. Brussels. Live on air. Songs travelling through antennas.
2011 Vienna. Accordion festival. Bellows speaking many languages.
2012 Schaerbeek. Busking at the Festival of Diversity. No stage needed.
2013 Choux Box Studio. Routes taking shape.
2016 ZIN TV festival. That crowd.
2018 Europeana days. Vlogs. Singles released. More Choux Box recordings. The circle tightens.
2020 The balcony. Doors closed everywhere. Music finds the outside wall.
2024 Back in the studio again. Vertigo begins to breathe. Different rooms. Same signal.
Different places. Same week, stretched across time. We don’t archive the past. We carry it. Still playing. Still moving. Still open to the next room.
This week. Different years. Same band. 30 years on stage. Brussels based. Jaune Toujours.
Some weeks live backstage. Soundchecks echo. Flyers promise things. Someone doodles in a notebook.
1998–1999 Brussels. Tienen. First rooms. Cobblestones under the door.
2005–2006 Mulhouse. Songs described in long sentences: rock, chanson, ska, Balkan brass. Explosive cultures, apparently.
2007 Amsterdam. Paradiso. Spotlights on the bass. Drums waiting. Hamburger philosophy backstage.
2011–2015 Zürich. Eeklo. Guestbooks signed. Crowds dancing. Anti-war backdrops behind the horns.
2018 Köln. Ladders on stage. Radio trucks outside. Soundcheck becomes broadcast.
2019 Another town. Another door opening.
Posters fade. Cobblestones stay.
Different places. Same week, stretched across time. We don’t archive the past. We carry it. Still playing. Still moving. Still open to the next room.
In de rustige ruis van een kamer, tussen het gewicht van een hand op een knop en het flikkeren van een scherm, krijgt geluid zijn definitieve vorm.
Hier krijgt de rode draad van het nieuwe album zijn laatste vorm voordat het zich aan jou zal tonen.
De eerste single komt uit op 27 maart.
Luister in tussentijd naar de vorm van wat er gaat komen.
Mastering door Uwe Teichert bij Elektropolis.
This week. Different years. Same band. 30 years on stage. Brussels based. Jaune Toujours.
Some weeks feel like call and response. A finger pointed. A crowd answers. A letter arrives years later. Same gestures. Same insistence. Music as invitation.
2003 Brussels. A festival brochure tries to explain the sound. It almost gets there.
2005 Songs revisit their own city. Old words. New ears.
2011 Fan mail crosses the night sky. Moon metaphors. Big feelings. No irony.
2015 Stages indoors. Stages outside. Cold hands. Warm voices.
2016 Gent. Eyes wide. Megaphones out. Sing with us, or don’t. But don’t stand still.
2023 Brussels. Music meets speeches. Bodies gather. Accordions wait their turn.
2024 Reviews travel again. Borders stay open on paper.
Different places. Same week, stretched across time. We don’t archive the past. We carry it. Still playing. Still moving. Still open to the next room.
This week. Different years. Same band.
30 years on stage. Brussels based.
Jaune Toujours.
Some weeks feel like being asked questions
and answering them with sound.
After the gig.
Backstage.
In the booth.
On the street again.
2000–2002
Bornem. Dranouter. Gent. Antwerp.
Early rooms.
Dance floors learning the steps.
2004
Waregem.
Notes sharpened.
Edges tested.
2007
Delft. Lübeck. Hamburg.
Flyers stack up.
Reviews argue. Baclavas
appear.
Trumpets still win.
2008
Koblenz.
Another room.
Same breath.
2012
Leuven.
Interview lights on.
Music still ringing in the ears.
2018
Europeana in the studio.
Pedals in a line.
Listening harder than playing.
2019–2020
Questions return.
Who plays.
Why it matters.
Everyone gets to join.
2025
Hasselt.
Crowd in silhouette.
Letters carried inside.
One last gig with a friend.
Soundcheck before the lights.
Different places. Same week, stretched across time. We don’t archive the past. We carry it. Still playing. Still moving. Still open to the next room.
This week. Different years. Same band. 30 years on stage. Brussels based. Jaune Toujours.
Some weeks feel like continuity with extra voices. Hands change instruments. People move in and out. The sound keeps learning. Different line-ups. Same pulse. Music built to travel.
2004 Brussels. Barricade in the room. Listening back. Trying again. Tubas where you don’t expect them.
2009 Belsele. Stuttgart. Sweat, blur, brass. Songs pushed forward by breath.
2019 Winds in the room. New versions find their weight.
2025 Gent. Crowds closer. Phones up. Megaphones out. Same joy, louder reach.
Different places. Same week, stretched across time. We don’t archive the past. We carry it. Still playing. Still moving. Still open to the next room.