The Beirut-based avant-rock sextet fuses psych/kraut, improv/skronk, electronic, gothic, and jazz elements with traditional Egyptian vocals and modern Arabic poetry on this magnificent follow-up to their acclaimed 2023 debut, "Mais Um." Produced by Radwan Moumneh (Matana Roberts, Sarah Davachi, Jerusalem In My Heart), the title of SANAM's second album is as promising as the Lebanese band's music. "Sametou Sawtan" translates from Arabic as "I heard a voice." Haunting or spiritual, however one reads the phrase, it speaks to the ability of sound and language to pause, steal attention, and open us to the moment. Similarly, SANAM's music blends delicate frenzy and fire-seared ballads, blending free-flowing rock and jazz frameworks with deep-rooted Arabic tradition. To hear them in full flight is to be held in the present and reorient oneself to open up a wider horizon. Work on "Sametou Sawtan" began in the spring of 2024. Initial ideas, conceived at Tunefork Studios in Beirut, were further developed in April during a residency at Beit Faris, a medieval house in the coastal city of Byblos. The sextet—Sandy Chamoun (vocals), Antonio Hajj (bass), Farah Kaddour (buzuq), Anthony Sahyoun (guitar, synthesizer), Pascal Semerdjian (drums), and Marwan Tohme (guitars)—was joined by producer Radwan Ghazi Moumneh (Jerusalem In My Heart). The last two tracks on the album are recordings from the Beit Faris sessions, while the rest were recorded at La Frette Studios in Paris during the band's European tour in the summer of 2024. The record processes feelings of distance and uprooting. "For the past five years, I've felt like everyone is leaving Lebanon," explains Chamoun. "The album isn't literally about that, but about the idea of something leaving you. A distance from events even though you're living in them, a distance from your house even though you live in it." Whether in the yearning ballad "Goblin" or the slow-burning, autotune-laden freakout of "Habibon," Sametou Sawtan captures the quest for solid ground in a world that can rarely provide it. The album has the mesmerizing intensity of the SANAM live experience while infusing the music with nuance, depth, and a tremendous dynamic range. As with their debut, the lyrics of many tracks are borrowed, words placed in new contexts to process the present. "Hamam" reimagines an Egyptian folk song. In "Hadikat Al Ams," the blaring hard rock stomper drives the lyrics of contemporary Lebanese writer Paul Shaoul. And both "Sayl Damei" and the title track utilize poems by the twelfth-century Iranian poet and pioneering mathematician Omar Khayyam. "When you read something by Omar, you feel a connection to the present," says Chamoun. "The feeling that there is no clear path." "Sametou Sawtan" also features two songs with Chamoun's own lyrics, including the opener "Harik." It was the nucleus of the album, written by Chamoun in February 2024, with the band building the track around her words. It begins with a shudder, shattered electronics, and a gasping vocal piercing the drums before the band launches into a triumphant ascent. It's about immersion in "an infinite fire," reveals Chamoun. She wrote the lyrics to "Tatayoum" alone before presenting them to the band. They reflect a different kind of intensity, "a loop, an obsession," as she puts it. Buzuq weaves through floating electronics and urgent drums, while Chamoun recites Arabic words describing love. The incessant energies explored in these tracks aren't necessarily negative. She compares their intensity to that of a writer caught in a train of thought, for better or for worse. "It's not about being depressed or sad," Chamoun says. "It's a trap, but it can also be magical." "Sametou Sawtan" features iconic graphics and design by Farah Fayyad.