An archival discovery of enormous geopolitical significance.

NOUS NON PLUS “99 LUFTBALLONS”

RELEASE DATE NOVEMBER 10

The global observance on November 10 is World Science Day for Peace and Development, proclaimed by UNESCO to highlight the role of science in society and foster international peace.

REPRESENTATION: AERONAUT RECORDS

PARIS, FRANCE — In 2007, Nicolas Sarkozy ascended to the French presidency, the iPhone began its systematic destruction of human intimacy, and six Americans masquerading as French musicians took the stage at La Flèche d’Or, a former railway station in Paris’s 20th arrondissement. The group was Nous Non Plus. The evening was historic, although history has thus far refused to acknowledge it.

Among the songs played that night was Nena’s 1983 Cold War anthem, “99 Luftballons”—a cautionary tale of balloons mistaken for enemy aircraft, triggering military aggression and the destruction of civilization. It was, in the opinion of guitarist and noted amateur European Cal D’hommage, “a profoundly unerotic allegory about the tragic consequences of premature escalation.”

The performance was recorded, then disappeared.

For nearly two decades, the recording presumed lost—likely misfiled by the band’s bassist, archivist, and alcoholic onanist, Jean-Luc Retard.

Earlier this year, while searching for a compromising photograph of himself, Retard found a hard drive in a box labeled “IMPÔTS 2007 / NE PAS OUVRIR.”

Inside was the recording: sweat, distortion, surprisingly competent German pronunciation, and a band playing as though tomorrow might never come.

Why release it now?

Because in 2026, the world has caught up with the song. The skies are filled with drones, Donald Trump continues his quest to convince the world that his missile is bigger than everyone else’s, and artificial intelligence has eliminated the need for actual intelligence in the conduct of international affairs. What sounded absurd in 1983 now resembles a reasonably restrained forecast from Le Monde.

In an era when machines manufacture music, Nous Non Plus offers something infinitely more authentic: six Americans pretending to be French, performing a German song to intoxicated Parisians.

It is perhaps the greatest achievement in European cooperation since the Treaty of Maastricht, and considerably more danceable.

As Voltaire might have said, “Il faut cultiver nos ballons.”

Nineteen years later, Nous Non Plus releases “99 Luftballons (Live at La Flèche d’Or, Paris, 2007)”—a musical time capsule from a more innocent era, when George W. Bush was considered the outer limit of American presidential ineptitude, and the only suspicious object flying overhead was an Air France flight operating inexplicably close to schedule.

Liberté, Égalité, Luftballons.

Listen now, before it is too late.