This week. Different years. Same band. 30 years on stage. Brussels based. Jaune Toujours.
Some weeks glow warm. Stage lights like sunsets. Dust in the air, sound hanging low.

2002–2003 Opwijk. Kortrijk. Gent. Rooms filling. Songs finding their weight.
2004 Schaerbeek. Halles. Barricade. Release night. Light spills orange. Everything feels possible.
2005 Louvrange. Oostende. Between cities. Between tides.
2009 Brussels. Ancienne Belgique. Kolektiv. A bigger room. Same urgency.
2014 Ouagadougou. Gent. Cars, terraces, stages improvised. Music crossing heat and distance.
2017 Ouagadougou again. Returning with deeper roots. Playing with, not just for.
2020 Laken. A window. A message: “Keep safe & sound.” Balconies become lifelines.
2021 Molenbeek. Streaming the room outward. Choux-Fest through cables and screens.

From orange stage light to red earth nights.
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.

2001–2002 Zandvliet. Eindhoven. Ieper. Early roads. Gear in the back. Future still unwritten.
2004 Brussels rooftops. Ici BXL. A city dancing between takes. Extras, neighbours, a child in the foreground. Life entering the frame.
2009 Strasbourg. Printemps des Bretelles. Bellows breathing across borders.
2011 Leuven. A square becomes a stage.
2014 Ouagadougou. Concrete stages. School yards. Night bars. Music learning new accents. Listening as much as playing.
2016 Brussels. After the attacks. Radio waves carrying something fragile. Holding space.
2017 Ouagadougou again. Returning is different from arriving.
2019 Brussels. Tour de France departure. Crowds like currents.
2020 Balconies. Distance, but not silence.
2022 Peace demo. Flags, voices, breath together.
2023 Blankenberge. Union stage. Songs among workers.
2025 Germany. Moers. Lübeck. Bremerhaven. New rooms. Same pulse.

From rooftops to red dust. From radio studios to street corners. 
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.

(Part 2/2) This week. Different years. Same band. 30 years on stage. Brussels based. Jaune Toujours.
Some weeks are roads. Airports. Backstages. Coffee poured next to a van.

2002 Opwijk. Backstage. Sousaphone, laughter, time to spare.
2012 Hungary. Megaphone open. Accordion wide. Cities passing by the window.
2013 Lithuania. Soundchecks. Airports. Moments before and after the stage.
2019 London. BBC Radio 3. Setting up. Quiet hands before the red light.
2020 Balcony sessions. The world paused. Songs still moving.
2013 Back to the studio. Routes being recorded. Notes finding their place. Different roads. Same pulse.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Same gestures. Same insistence. Music as invitation.
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. 
Some weeks feel like continuity with extra voices. Hands change instruments. People move in and out. The sound keeps learning.

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 line-ups. Same pulse. Music built to travel.
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.