Sandy Chamoun: Sawt El Doumouh

Sandy Chamoun has been among the most crucial voices out of Lebanon during this decade. The country, entrenched in turmoil where every day circumstances change within the blink of an eye. It’s hard to believe, given Beirut’s a vibrant music in particular. Led by Chamoun’s SANAM, who have been making some of the most forward-thinking music out of the region, with last year’s Saemtou Sawtan the collective’s best release yet, welding Middle Eastern traditions to modern-day electronica. The results, something deeply spirited and cathartic.

Chamoun is someone who is constantly creating. There’s a sense that she needs to in order to survive. And returning with her latest solo release, Sawt El Doumouh, once again she moves the needle. Written between 2023 and 2025 during Israel’s incessant attacks on Lebanon, Sawt El Doumouh (The Sound of Tears) sees Chamoun rise above adversity. Her second full-length release, something that is a celebration of music and its hidden powers.

As Sawt El Doumouh’s artwork suggests, it’s something escapist and fantastical. Chamoun, in a state of liberation where the human and environment make the ultimate coalition. While SANAM has been a crucial vessel for Chamoun, on Sawt El Doumouh she revels in the spotlight, with songs that move fluidity, counterbalancing darkness and autonomy. The results, a snapshot of her everyday reality.

Beginning with Khafiy. Droning with dread, it sees Chamoun reimagining the lyrics from the sayings of Imam Ali. The piece, layered, elemental, and delivered with so such much spirit and emotional resonance, it reaffirms why one falls in love with music in the first place. Something like Khafiy is hard to follow, but Chamoun applies the notion of leading with your best first, and it paves a clear path for the remainder of this journey.

On Wa and Ward W Sho, Chamoun exposes great contrast. The freeing nature of music and the despair of everyday truths away from it. Sonically, both songs are a collision of the past and present, as Chamoun employs traditional instrumentation (featuring Ali Hout on drums) alongside her slightly autotuned vocal. It’s off-kilter pop immersed in ritual where Chamoun proves the two can coexist.

Meanwhile, Shahed is rooted in Chamoun’s immediate surroundings. An ethereal mediation of multi-tracked vocalisations and hand claps that places you at the heart of Lebanon. The air and smell, different to anywhere else on earth.

The title track sees Chamoun drawing from all the ideas that form Sawt El Doumouh. Scarred instrumentation and bruised textures that evoke a politics-through-sound kind of vibe. All told, it’s something one could imagine Low had knocking around during the band’s HEY WHAT sessions.

With traditional lyrics from southern Lebanese folklore, Chamoun continues to move the boundaries on Ataba. A performance designed for communal spaces, brining the crowd to silence, as the power grows stronger with passing second. Chamoun’s voice, pushing against a series of strings that creates a tension like a spell cast on the audience.

Latife has that same quality, but delivered with a rawness that is almost mournful. Fellow Lebanese acts, Postcards, Snakeskin and Maud Zeinoun have also peddled their pain from the vaults over the last 12 months with their own beautiful pieces of art. On Sawt El Doumouh, Chamoun delivers it from her own vantage point. Her songs, while weighed down by the dread of every day realities, still manage to imbue some hope, underlining the sheer power of art.

Sawt El Doumouh is out now via Ruptured Records. Purchase from Bandcamp.