Daan Junior “C’est domage” Album Review: Track-by-Track Thoughts and Final Verdict

By Moses St Louis

It’s hard to follow a debut that people still talk about years later. That first Daan Junior album (Avè'w) set a bar with sticky hooks, big feelings, and songs that fit both couples and late-night solo drives.

Now, in December 2025, Daan Junior is back with C’est domage, a 20-track project that asks a simple question: can he hit that same nerve again, or does the length and familiar subject matter blur the edges?

This Daan Junior “C’est domage” album review breaks it down in plain language. You’ll get a track-by-track look (grouped by mood), plus a clear verdict for first-time listeners and long-time fans.

First listen: What “C’est domage” sounds like and what it is trying to say

On first play, C’est domage feels like a relationship story told in episodes. The album moves between Haitian Creole and French, and that switch isn’t just style, it changes the temperature of the songs. Creole cuts closer to the bone, French often sounds more reflective, like he’s replaying the same scene from a distance.

The sound sits in a familiar lane for Daan Junior: romantic mid-tempos, a few dance-ready moments, and a lot of confession. His vocals stay front and center, and the melodies do most of the heavy lifting. When a chorus locks in, it stays with you. When it doesn’t, the repetition can feel like the song is circling the same thought for too long.

A 20-track runtime is a risk. It gives him space to show range, but it also makes pacing matter more than ever. Here, the energy rises and dips in waves. The best stretch comes when the album mixes daily-life stress with movement, then pivots into a more radio-friendly run before closing with late-night emotions.

The big themes: love, regret, pride, and learning the hard way

The track titles tell you a lot before you even press play. “Avoué” sets a tone of confession, and “C’est domage” signals regret right in the center of the project. Later, “Sans te mantir” and “Solitude” sound like the aftertaste of mistakes, when pride cools down and you finally sit with what happened.

Across the album, the emotional storyline feels like this: he starts honest, he gets comfortable, conflict shows up, and then he tries to fix what he can. Some songs sound like promises. Others sound like warnings he didn’t listen to the first time.

The best moments are when he keeps it simple. A clean hook, one clear point, and a vocal that sounds like he means it.

How it compares to his debut hit album in simple terms

The debut is still the one fans measure everything against, and that’s normal. Debuts often feel like lightning in a bottle. Follow-ups get judged harder because listeners already know what you can do.

Compared to that first hit album, C’est domage feels more consistent in mood, but less explosive in highlights. The hooks are there, but fewer feel like instant classics on day one. It’s also safer in subject matter. If you want Daan Junior in his most familiar love-regret lane, you’ll feel at home. If you wanted a bigger left turn, this album only hints at it.

The upside is replay value for fans who like slow-burn songs. A lot of tracks improve once you stop comparing and start listening for the small choices in the melodies and phrasing.

Track by track review: the 20 songs, grouped by mood so it is easy to follow

This is the full C’est domage tracklist covered in four listening chapters, so the 20 tracks don’t feel like a wall of titles.

Chapter 1: Confession and first cracks (Tracks 1 to 5)

1. AvouéA steady opener that sounds like he’s clearing his throat before the real talk. The strongest moment is the directness, it sets up an album where he won’t pretend he’s perfect. This one’s for listeners who like emotion first, party later.

2. Lè lanmou bon li pa mande tròpWarm and sweet, with the kind of phrase that feels like advice from someone who’s been burned. The hook is simple, and that helps it land fast. Great for couples, or anyone who misses the “easy” stage of love.

3. C’est domageThe title track carries the album’s core feeling: regret that doesn’t fully turn into self-pity. The chorus is built to stick, and it feels like one of the most focused songs here. This is for heartbreak listeners who still want a melody you can hum.

4. M’ap reziyen’mA resignation song, but not a sleepy one. He sounds like he’s accepting the outcome while still wishing it went another way. Best for late-night listening when you don’t want noise, just honesty.

5. Nou trò renmenThis track brings a little lift, even if the message is complicated. The strongest moment is how he sells the idea that love can be “too much” and still real. It’s for couples who argue a lot but can’t quit each other.

Chapter 2: Pressure, lessons, and movement (Tracks 6 to 10)

6. Lundi, Mardi (la causeEven the title reads like a calendar page mid-sentence, and the song matches that daily-life vibe. It feels like pressure building across the week, with a hook that repeats like a thought you can’t shut off. This one’s for people who hear their relationship problems in routine.

7. Tande kisa m’ap di’wHe leans into advice mode here, and the vocal has a firm tone that cuts through. The chorus is the best part, it sounds like a line he wants you to remember. Good for anyone who likes Daan Junior when he sounds sure of himself.

8. Danse sou plasThis is one of the clearest party moments on the album. The rhythm pushes forward, and the hook feels designed for movement, even if you’re just dancing in your kitchen. If you came looking for a mood switch, start here.

9. Kisa pou’m fèBack to the question that haunts most love albums: what do I do now? The vibe sits mid-tempo, with a pleading tone that feels more human than dramatic. This one’s for listeners who like songs that sound like a voice note you never sent.

10. Gen lè (Haiti)The “Haiti” tag changes the color of the song. It feels tied to place, memory, and a wider kind of longing than just romance. The strongest moment is the mood, it paints a scene without needing a lot of words.

Chapter 3: Naïve love, calls, and the feature moment (Tracks 11 to 15)

11. Trò NayifA self-check track where he admits he might’ve been too trusting. The hook has a bite to it, like he’s embarrassed but also done learning the same lesson twice. It’s for anyone who’s ever ignored red flags on purpose.

12. Love de toiThis is one of the more catchy cuts, with a lighter touch that could fit a playlist outside the album. The chorus feels built for replay, and the vibe is flirty without being careless. Great for couples and crushes.

13. Allo“Call me” songs can go cheesy fast, but this one stays grounded. The best moment is how he uses the phone-call idea as a symbol for distance, not just drama. It’s for people who miss someone but don’t want to beg.

14. Nous Deux (feat. Fabiola Shyne)The feature brings a fresh voice and a needed contrast. Their chemistry reads as conversation, not just two parts stitched together, and that makes the track feel bigger. If you want one song that sounds like a duet with real stakes, this is it.

15. Sans te mantirThe honesty theme comes back strong here, and it fits the album title’s regretful tone. The hook is clean and emotional, with a promise that sounds hard-earned. This one’s for listeners who want commitment talk, not just apology talk.

Chapter 4: The late night run, regret, and closure (Tracks 16 to 20)

16. SolitudeA quiet, heavy track that earns its name. He lets the space in the song speak, and the vocal feels alone even when the music is present. Best for headphones, not speakers at a party.

17. Je te le disThis feels like a direct message after too much time thinking. The strongest moment is the firmness in his delivery, like he’s choosing clarity over charm. It’s for anyone who likes breakup songs that don’t sound defeated.

18. Je t’avais ditThis one has the “I warned you” energy, but it doesn’t come off as petty. The hook works because it’s relatable, we’ve all wanted to say this at least once. It’s for people who’ve been ignored, then proven right.

19. Ma DulcinéeA softer romantic note near the end, almost like a memory scene. The melody carries it, and the tenderness helps break up the regret-heavy run. This one fits couples, slow dances, and anyone who still believes in sweetness.

20. Chaque foisA closer that leans into repetition in a smart way, like the same mistake showing up again and again. It ends the album on a reflective tone, not a big finale, which will work for some listeners more than others. As an ending, it feels honest, even if it doesn’t scream for applause.

If you only remember three tracks after one week, the strongest candidates are “C’est domage,” “Danse sou plas,” and “Nous Deux (feat. Fabiola Shyne).” They show the album’s main modes: regret, movement, and chemistry.

Final verdict: Is “C’est domage” the comeback album fans wanted?

C’est domage isn’t a clean “either it’s great or it’s not” album. It’s a long project with real high points, plus a few stretches where the mood stays too similar for too long.

What it does best: strong choruses when he keeps them tight, emotional clarity on the regret songs, and a good balance of Creole and French that matches the story. What holds it back: 20 tracks is a lot, and several mid-tempos live in the same emotional neighborhood, which can blur together in one sitting.

Instead of a numeric score, here’s a simple way to file it:

• Highlights: “C’est domage,” “Danse sou plas,” “Nous Deux (feat. Fabiola Shyne),” “Sans te mantir,” “Gen lè (Haiti)”

• Skips (depends on mood): the ones that repeat the same point without a bigger hook (this will vary by listener)

• Growers: “Avoué,” “M’ap reziyen’m,” “Solitude,” “Chaque fois”

If you want a fast first listen, try this 5-song starter pack: “C’est domage,” “Danse sou plas,” “Gen lè (Haiti),” “Nous Deux (feat. Fabiola Shyne),” “Sans te mantir.” Then circle back for the deeper cuts.

Does it beat the debut for you, or does the debut still win on first-play magic?

My take

There’s a trend right now: albums with 15-plus songs, even when singles often travel further. A long tracklist can work, but it asks for tighter editing and bigger changes in tempo. On C’est domage, the length sometimes makes the emotions feel less sharp, because you hear similar ideas back-to-back.

I also wish the Creole titles were cleaned up more. In the tracklist, a few spellings and formats look inconsistent, and track 6 (“Lundi, Mardi (la cause”) reads like it got cut off. That doesn’t ruin the music, but titles are part of the presentation, and this album depends on clear emotion and clear messaging.

And I can’t pretend the debut isn’t still in my head. That comparison isn’t fully fair, because the first big album often feels new in a way you can’t repeat. What matters more is whether these songs hold up on their own, and several of them do.

C’est domage shows Daan Junior staying close to what he does best: love songs that mix sweetness with regret, and hooks that can stick when the chorus is strong. The album’s best moments come from “C’est domage,” “Danse sou plas,” and “Nous Deux (feat. Fabiola Shyne),” while the long runtime can make parts of the middle feel monotonous. Give it a full listen, then revisit the debut with fresh ears, and share which of the 20 tracks hits you hardest.

I report, you decide