Debut album · 2026
La Plume de ma Tante
Ils sont partis avant le fromage
The newlyweds have left. The party goes on. Twelve songs, twelve views of a wedding that isn’t going quite to plan.
La Plume de ma Tante · 1:22
Ils sont partis avant le fromage
An 82-second film around the album.
Songs · 01—12
One party. Twelve stories.
A shortened dress, an unplugged microphone, two hens on the loose. Each song opens another corner of the gymnasium.
- 01
3:36Le couteau dans la doublure
The bride cuts her dress shorter. Two helmets are waiting, and the scooter is behind the wall.
- 02
2:57Le scooter
A borrowed scooter becomes a reported theft. On the phone, a ‘no’ turns into a ‘yes’.
- 03
3:03Le fromage quand même
The bride’s mother serves cheese beside two empty seats. Everything is planned, she insists.
- 04
2:47Les mariés en sucre
A child climbs up to the wedding cake. The figurines break; the cake is still standing.
- 05
3:08Six contre six
Twelve guests vote with their forks. Six against six, but someone announces seven to five.
- 06
3:09André prend le micro
The uncle leaves his written speech and says too much. His sister gets up and follows the microphone cable.
- 07
3:06La nuque de Sylvie
Hairpin by hairpin, Sylvie undoes the bun that was meant to last until midnight.
- 08
4:02Quatre boules et du riz
The two fathers play pétanque on the wooden floor. The balls hit the chairs; rice crunches underfoot.
- 09
3:38Le slow des divorcés
On the badminton court line, two guests find a dance the newlyweds have left behind.
- 10
3:34Le compteur sous l'escalier
Under the stairs, a hand cuts the power. In the dark, the guests sing louder.
- 11
3:02Les poules de Perpignan
Eight hours on the road, a cage and two red hens. The wedding gift makes a break for freedom.
- 12
3:42Neuf heures au gymnase
The newlyweds return at nine. There are chairs to count and one last table to fold.
They had asked for ten chairs.
There are sixty-three. In a gymnasium turned wedding venue, the newlyweds leave on a scooter before the cheese. Around their two empty seats, everyone tries to salvage something: the meal, the speech, the vote, a dance.
The story passes from one voice to another. Small gestures move it forward: a hairpin removed, a switch lowered, four hands under a table that refuses to fold.