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by Orouni

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    Includes unlimited streaming of Partitions via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Please note that the LP version does not include the bonus track 'Son Of Mystery'.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Partitions via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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A blue lion eats a dirty berry hears old sounds shake soothing dreams A blue light hits a dirty ruby sees old hounds break soothing beams A dying man reaches a wild sea A dying man wishes for a warmer sea A worthy man reaches a calm sea A green lion eats a foggy berry hears wooden sounds shake desperate dreams A blue light hits a silent ruby sees hidden hounds break solid beams A dying flame reaches a wild bee A frail flame stretches to a brave bee A pale lion eats a bitter berry hears deep sounds shake different dreams A green light hits a falling ruby sees dead hounds break magic beams A dying idea reaches a wild enemy A stable idea banishes a lost enemy A standing man vanishes in a warm sea A weak lion eats a shiny berry hears pure sounds shake lazy dreams A pale light hits a quiet ruby sees free hounds break fleeting beams
Sofia Bolt - vocals Steffen Charron - bass, vocals Orouni - vocals, keyboard Jean Thevenin - drums, drum machine
Friday night, eleven, it is time for a smoke break. But I won’t be too long, I’ll just have one and be right back. You see I Leave my brown jacket behind on the forty-third floor. And when the break is over, I can press the button The elevator’s not the one to blame. Yes, someone will have to pay Once a plane snapped the safety cables of a lift a woman was riding. Pretty quickly, the car dived - she was injured but alive The tape made me look like a bug in a box I had a nervous breakdown But no one saw the cockroach They’ll find me dead on my back The air was burning hot I recall and for hours I was face down on the floor using my shoes for a pillow There was no egress from the shaft anywhere. Think what you want, it’s not fair You’ll wait ten minutes for a train. But wait thirty seconds for an elevator and the world is coming to an end I lost my flat I spent my money on drugs I searched in vain for paying work. One night I walked onto an elevator and got out of it two days later
The river flows to the Northeast - It travels through more than twenty cities It runs eighty miles before reaching the sea - Reverse its direction, what would it be? The river is fed by plenty of streams - It only drops less than five hundred feet It will stay the same, have no worries, if you break it up into tributaries The donkey met a lion - so he wished he were a rock - The donkey was a rock all day and night The kittens and the colts went searching for him - The dogs sniffed the rock, it didn’t smell like him The river was once well known for its waste - calling it water was a mistake It’s cleaner and you can swim in it today - but who ever thought of changing its name? Put boards on the side, ship freight up and down - Or harden its surface and then draw a line In the middle so people’d be able to drive - The minute you do this, the river will die Sylvester on the hill woke up less and less - And when he was awake, he was hopeless The nights grew cold, the days grew short - The winter winds blew. It snowed
I’ve got my cloak, my hat and my shawl. Now I should be gone There must be freedom on both sides. You’re not the only one Helmer overworked himself, at the office early and late. “Go south”, the doctors said So I borrowed money to go to Italy, oh oh oh, to Italy I’ve got my cloak, my hat and my shawl. Now I should be gone There must be freedom on both sides. You’re not the only one Rank thinks it is all up with him, it can’t be helped, in a month he will be dead He’d give his life for my sake, says I can trust him like no one else. Yet I love him as a friend The little lark shone bright. She is worth looking at, she was brought away by force I want to go upstairs again, the Tarantella in my blood, let me stay one hour more In all these eight years we have never exchanged one serious word about serious things I have been your doll-wife just as at home I was papa’s doll-child I’ve got my cloak, my hat and my shawl. Now I should be gone There must be freedom on both sides. You’re not the only one
We met in the heart of Brussels Park It was fated Underrated Attracted by the colour of your scent I saw your silhouette I couldn’t forget I picked a flower it was red as I’d wished Intoxicated by your height, heat and smoke Now we spend the weekend apart I’ve got nothing to worry about What a light heart No news bad news call me I’ll blow a fuse You said you’d text me back here comes the attack I found it weird when you disappeared into the bedroom with your perfume It is logical I’ll end up in the hospital Everything fits together perfectly Who is he? Is he rich? The guy you’re going out with Where did you two meet? Do you feel complete? A message from you woke me from my sleep They’re so unusual Still it’s a giant leap I can’t believe you wrote me that you wished to see me for a drink What a funny twist You said you wanted to go past the city walls A place where we could sit and talk quietly I hope tonight will shed light on the past We’ll keep from going mad and try to make us last
You rise at dawn to serve your man and yet you live but half a life You keep his wardrobe well-stocked, oh yes you are the perfect wife Your kids appear to be healthy and sane. Besides, you never complain, you greet him at the door and wait You want to kiss him when he comes back although your hair is no longer black You are as faithful as Penelope But are you always sewing? He’s gone, you suffer patiently And while he sees you as a prying corpse, you know that he is going to feel remorse A man came down by the midday train, took a cosy room with sea view He had manners and unfailing grace, he strolled along the terrace with you Most people couldn’t understand the situation oh oh All their hearts were dry and they were filled with indignation, they didn’t know She was so faithful she was so blameless. How could she leave? How could she flee? It may be romantic it’s unexpected love at first sight it is a folly Who’s purer than those who are easily led astray? The question is posed You chose your own will rather than to betray someone with your eyes closed
She starts new lives every day every hour or less. Who’s dead? It’s getting hard to guess She wishes she took better care of them But where are they now? She says she’d help but she doesn’t know how And I’d like to go out Let me leave please I don’t want to catch this disease I’ve had enough already She wonders where everything has gone Her hat, her shoes, there are many things that she can still lose For a moment she won’t appear. “I go where I’m sent” but no one knows what she meant She says she had the nuns on her back. She can see the girl but the grandmother’s mind is in a whirl She was a nurse in the Indochina war she was put through the wringer she couldn’t take any more The benefits of healing other people are plenty. It mobilises you, it drives you, it helps you hold steady And I’d like to go out Let me leave please I don’t want to catch this disease I’ve had enough already
Here, every thing is dipped in grey every thing earth, trees and air even the sky, the eyes, the sunlight, every possible ray is dipped in monotonous grey If you only knew how strange it is to be here in this dull world without any colour or sound every girl that you see looks frozen into immobility Suddenly a car is moving straight at you and people seem larger as they come closer to you Bicyclists and pedestrians cross the street, approaching the edge of the screen and vanish somewhere beyond But you can’t hear the rumble of the wheels, you can’t hear any footsteps or speech. It happens noiselessly, these movements are not accompanied by the usual symphony Though all of it swarms with life their laughter is silent there’s nothing in their smiles but shadows cruelly punished by being deprived of any sound All at once a locomotive rolls in, full speed, immersing the whole building in fear and yet quickly disappears Three men seated at a table playing cards almost split their sides and look as if they had died You’re finally disturbed You’re finally depressed Where are you now? What day is today? You forget and your heart grows faint your body needs rest It seems this grey life carries a warning fraught with a sinister meaning your consciousness begins to wane and grow dim, your mind’s invaded by strange feelings And one day these pictures will be replaced by others called “As She Undresses” or “Madam In Her Bubble Bath” A sordid fight between a husband and a wife a fashionable parasite impaled upon a picket fence
At first I heard it and it was like I knew the wines that make you passionate, the intimate things about you I wonder if it is a real choice. I like to listen to your voice But then I got too curious, I looked for your picture The face really was peculiar since your hair is darker And signs of wrinkles likely betrayed it wasn’t you who were portrayed He wrote and sang his songs the way I love, compared to his contenders then, for me, he was a cut above He only needed to create a sound to have you believe he was around But then I saw an imitation of what he could look like An image is a limitation of work done with a mic There are no features that can embrace such subtlety and grace Oh no she missed it, she blew it so hard She could have made it, she had a trump card Over the phone, under her spell, everything went so well She thought she would be able to guess who he was and how he looked when he came, she was fearless He saw her read the message he had sent, he fled and never called her again
Green grass hat ink apple. Sad face music clown girl Experimenter - experimenter - let me go, my heart will give out I’m no longer part of it all Hard head stone bread work. White cloud horse rock house Please continue please continue. We’ve put all our trust in you - no harm will be done to your tissues Are you kidding? You’re an actor, boy. You don’t know what I’ve been through here A person like me hurting you, my god. I didn’t want to do it to you Every time I pressed the button I died and maybe you were watching me My reactions were giggly, trying to stifle laughs I really thought I’d kill that man Sweating, trembling, biting their lips Some were groaning, some were blushing Some others heaved sighs of relief Teachers were digging their fingernails into their skin Or giving hints to the victims Or stuttering or having seizures I believed the man was dead until we opened the door, I said it’s great But it didn’t even bother me to find out he was gone because I had accomplished a job
I was a soldier in North Africa, did my duty there, projecting dreams and producing rumours of fame and grandeur Yes I was at war and I knew my gear inside and out relaying news to my fellow fighters, paratroopers How did you get all your medals and decorations? First a xerox and then a specialised shop We like you, Sir, we’ve known you for years. If I could help you I would be pleased. I’m a knight, I’m on the list of the Order of Merit. Don’t know why, with a different first name - oh what a shame All of this quickly has to change, it cannot stay the same - The official gazette made a little mistake, I will complain Word is on the street your ribbons aren’t well deserved. I’ll cleanse my honour, it’s something I must preserve You are always dressed up like a Christmas tree. I’m going to be a red conferee A report has been lodged, I know it has. I beg you please help me My wife and kids, they don’t know about it, please set me free I’m upset I was manipulated by him - I wanted to be someone, to satisfy my whim No more flag to raise - no more flame to revive - All my story lies in ruins - I lost my whole life I put a date on my calendar - I’ve got so much free time - no more handshake, no more funeral - only a trial
In two shakes of a lamb’s tail she said both are the same - But he did not turn a hair “No one needs reasons to be afraid” is a phrase coined by a guilty head I’ve had a lot of fun. Good-bye, and thank you There is no better way He said he was frightened by the sight of chairs - There’s something scary about their shape Though they’re good pets by our side every day, they suggest that someone’s not there I’ve had a lot of fun. Good-bye, and thank you There is no better way A writer can become the prisoner of the image others make of him - Did they want to kill the author? It was a rebirth - He was starting again With another name, something else could begin The perfect illusion of renewing himself No better way to say it A python resembles an elephant’s trunk but a snake often sheds its skin So he got a young one at 59, the age of his mother when she died I’ve had a lot of fun. Good-bye, and thank you
Slim, did you miss an audition When you had to be a mortician? When you worked for the Purple Gang? Creating your own slang Were you a truck driver? Or a professional boxer? Or a pilot during the war Across the Pacific on a B-26 You learned how to speak a few words in Greek When you were lost in Crete. From then on, language never caused you anguish You liked to say "ovauti" And most of all "orooni" So without you, what would we be but alone in our misery? And Jack said that Dean had seen you in a dream His belly was all blue. He thought “What can I talk about?”. Your answer was in Vout Nobody knows where you are even in this Frisco bar With your shroud of mystery - We hope you’ll never be on the scrap heap of history


The practice of a meticulous craft, a fascination for ambitious compositions, a strong attachment to the art of songwriting, a desire to set a palette of emotions to music, ranging from assumed melancholy to contagious euphoria, openness to the world and more: Orouni shares so many values and desires with December Square that his presence within the family seems self-evident.

While some pursue experimental research reserved for experts and others lose themselves in their mad quest for global success, Orouni has long since decided not to choose. Or rather, to capture the best of both worlds. Record after record, he proves to us that intelligence and efficiency, quality and accessibility, requirement and emotion, can still co-exist in music.

Finally, things haven’t changed much since his first uncertain attempts on the family piano: even without a miracle recipe, he is always searching for a melody that is worthy of interest. The result: complex and singular, but instantly memorable pop songs that are both sophisticated and immediate with very communicative energy.

Vigorously creating music for both the ears and the brain, the heart and skin, Orouni differentiates between beliefs and certainties: he permanently questions himself, making the best out of each one of his projects. Passionate about architecture, a fan of cinema and literature, the 2011 winner of the Inrocks Lab is naturally attracted to original musical structures. Never taking the easy road and with great respect for his listeners, his mastered art of nuance allows listeners to enter his world by the door of their choice and gives them the time to discover its many subtleties; each of his pieces is a small world in itself.

From his solo debut at a festival in Aalborg (Denmark) to the success of Grand Tour, Orouni has never strayed from his convictions: the pleasure of imagining a song is as unique as the emotion of listening to the music of others. In Orouni’s music, the Kinks dance with Chassol, Belle & Sebastian dance with Dylan and Malian music plays with the Beatles. His already extensive discography makes room for melodies, whether vocal or instrumental, complex harmonies, and instruments that are rarely used in contemporary pop music (balafon, kalimba, mbira...) A luminous, organic and extremely caring music, with a little extra soul that makes all the difference.

In his fourth album, Partitions, recorded with his faithful musicians and Guillaume Jaoul as engineer, Orouni places his ambition a step further, making no compromise with pleasure or emotion.


released April 19, 2019

Nina Beziau: baritone saxophone
Sofia Bolt: vocals
Emma Broughton: flute, vocals
Steffen Charron: bass, guitars, vocals
Benoît Giffard: trombone
Maëva Le Berre: cello
Anne Millioud-Gouverneur: violin
Orouni: guitars, keyboards, vocals
Jean Thevenin: drums, drum machine
Raphaël Thyss: piano, keyboards, trumpet
Nicolas Worms: keyboards

Arrangements: Orouni & Guillaume Jaoul
Recorded (at Tropicalia, Paris) and mixed by Guillaume Jaoul
Piano recorded at Studio des Amandiers (Paris) by Guillaume de Chirac

Cover picture: Harold Edgerton - Diver, 1958. ©2010 MIT. Courtesy MIT Museum
Artwork: Pascal Blua

“Son Of Mystery”
Emma Broughton: flute, backing vocals
Dimitri Dedonder: drums, backing vocals
Florian Duboé: backing vocals
Benoît Guivarch: bass, backing vocals
Orouni: guitars, vocals
Raphaël Thyss: piano, trumpet, bugle, backing vocals

Recorded and mixed at Studios Davout by Tony Halet
Thanks to everyone at Linkaband

All songs composed and written by Orouni
Mastered by Rémi Salvador at Climax mastering


all rights reserved



Orouni Paris, France

A fascination for ambitious compositions, a strong attachment to the art of songwriting: Orouni’s songs make room for vocal and instrumental melodies with complex harmonies and instruments that are rarely used in contemporary pop music (balafon, kalimba, mbira ...). In Orouni’s music, the Kinks dance with Chassol, Belle & Sebastian dance with Dylan and Malian music plays with the Beatles. ... more

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