Sergevolant
On Sound, Curiosity, and Going Elsewhere
If there’s one thing I’ve come to really appreciate these past few years is the diversity and frankly insane quality of music coming out of the region, and especially Lebanon.
There’s a lot being made here across genres, sounds, and scenes that don’t always intersect. Artists continue experimenting, borrowing, breaking things apart, and putting them back together in ways that feel distinctly their own. And they’re doing it within a music scene that, for all its talent, still operates with limited space, infrastructure, and support. Somehow, the music keeps coming anyway.
Which brings me to Serge, also known as Sergevolant.
Photo by Julie Abou Kasm.
I know Serge, so this isn’t exactly an introduction to someone I’ve just discovered, but Sergevolant is someone I’m only just getting to know. His debut album, Everyday is all there is, felt like a good place to start. The album itself feels like a pleasant journey into the unknown—new sounds, odd tunes, and little moments that catch you off guard. It’s playful and curious, sometimes strange, but not in a way that asks too much of you. You’re simply invited to follow along and see where it takes you.
Michelle: What brought you to the point of making this album, and how did you approach creating it?
Sergevolant: I think I’ve been wanting to express myself sonically in a body of art for a long time, and I never could. At the time, I believe it was because I was always thinking about how to create something that sounds nice. And within that box, I was never satisfied, because I was always very critical of how it sounded, rather of what it was saying.
I think, at some point, you need to create to express yourself rather than to please others. And I realized that if I put all of that aside and I focus on myself, what I’m thinking, and what I’m feeling, I have a lot to say. I think everyone has a lot to say. It’s in that mentality in which I was able to flow a bit more.
Sergevolant pictured in his home. September 2025. Mar Mikhael, Beirut, Lebanon. Photo by Divine Gerges.
Michelle: In the age of social media, constant exposure, and having to put yourself out there online, there’s some sort of pressure and invisible metric placed on artists in terms of having to please others, and that the art’s quality itself is based on “the more people like it, the better,” when it really can be a matter of finding the people that connect with the body of work, a niche per se.
Sergevolant: There’s something nice about the digital aspect of things, because maybe, when releasing my work, I’m not necessarily thinking about connecting with my close circle of friends, but rather I’m trying to reach anyone that might need to listen to this type of music. At the end of the day, if you take a look at anyone’s listening portfolio, they’re definitely not only listening to artists from their home countries. They’re also maybe listening to artists from different continents or who come from different socio-economical backgrounds. It’s nice that there are so many people, and the world is so open that you can connect with anyone. There’s a niche for everything,
Michelle: What did the creative process behind the album look like, and where did you find yourself drawing inspiration from?
Sergevolant: I was able to take some time last year to travel, and the goal of my travels was to recenter myself; to take a break from life and catch up on my reading, listening, thoughts—even rediscovering myself. And when you’re traveling, you’re a new person. No one knows you. It’s a clean slate. It’s not like when you’re in your usual environment where you’re trying to prove yourself in one way or another.
The goal of this trip was also to sonically document my travels and what I’m feeling. The album itself is based on a bunch of field recordings.
And field recording is about having whatever sort of recording device on you and trying as much as possible to record the spaces you’re in sonically, wherever that may be. I draw much of my inspiration for my music through that.
Sergevolant recording different soundscapes in nature. August 2025. Aulus Les Bains, Occitanie, France. Photo by Thom Lucero.
Michelle: I remember noticing how prominent the naturesque sounds are in your album. And it’s interesting that these were largely recorded throughout your travels. Can you maybe recount one instance that comes to mind with gathering the field recordings and them ultimately making it to your album?
Sergevolant: I was in Peru once, and I had met some people, with whom we eventually decided to randomly go on a three day hike together. At some point, we got to a place that’s quite high in altitude. It was so cold, and we—a group of around 20 people—all sat around the table, exhausted, ready to have dinner. I ended up recording as everyone’s just passing around food and eating. These recordings made it to the third song, I too, will pray for your god.
I think this song is very interesting, because it was recorded as a bunch of very different people were sitting and discussing their days and hikes. I like the idea of being gathered with people from different backgrounds. You come to realize that with all these differences, or even when you’re meeting through chance encounters, you can create such a strong bond. I too will pray for your god, whoever your god is—I care for you.
Michelle: So other than Peru, what are different countries or locations that have inspired this album, in one way or another?
Sergevolant: Japan plays a big role in this album. I spent quite some time there, and found myself inspired a lot by Japanese music. Two of the song titles on the album include the name Hosono. Hosono is a Japanese artist that is so versatile. He’s done so much, and I took a lot from him because his approach was also very ‘as if he’s coming to you from behind’. He plays around—he’s fun.
And I wanted this album to be playful—on the lighter side. I didn’t want it to be a sad album.
Artwork of Sergevolant’s debut album, everyday is all there is, by Mohamad Abdouni.
Michelle: What emotions or thoughts were you hoping to invoke through your album or that you can translate to listeners as they listen to your songs?
Sergevolant: It’s going to sound like a funny word, but curiosity. I want them to be slightly curious, maybe asking themselves “What’s going on here?” And there’s a lot of questions in the album musically, where they don’t resolve, and they’re a bit funny.
And they’re not major questions, they’re small. I think that’s why there’s a kid on the cover as well. The album is related to the novelty of childhood a bit. These questions reflect childlike curiosity, when you’re discovering something new as a kid.
And there’s so much excitement on being able to put something like this out there, and to be part of this new generation of people that are creating and releasing music in Lebanon.
Michelle: On that note, what’s your experience as an artist in the Lebanese scene?
Sergevolant: I think it’s so tough that the spaces and audiences in the country are decreasing. It’s crazy that there’s still so many people making music, and you see the enthusiasm, excitement, and passion. What’s lovely about the scene is that it’s so non-transactional, in a sense where a lot of people want to do stuff because it’s fun, and people are writing music because they want to. The amount of music that’s coming out of the country’s independent scene is crazy and is so varied stylistically.
People are investing because they believe in themselves.It’s expensive to make a record, whether you’re hiring sessionists, mixing engineers, or mastering. Usually, I think one of the things people struggle with the most is having the courage to put something out there or to create, and maybe that’s how I see it, but this fear is not as present here. Everyone is like, you know what? Yeah, we need to put more stuff out there.
What’s nice is that I think it’s really everyday people making music and it’s insanely high grade music. The records coming out of the country are fabulous, and that’s why I think platforms are so important, which gets us to music marketing.
We need to reach bigger audiences because the high-grade music is here [in Lebanon].
Michelle: Why do you think music marketing isn’t as common as it should be in the independent scene in Lebanon?
Sergevolant: There isn’t proper infrastructure. The artist is already so preoccupied with making music and then marketing it and growing their platform. It’s a whole job on its own, and it’s expensive, but I think artists here can try to be open to a little compromise in terms of being willing to put themselves out there more.
Michelle: And as a person who has sought out experiences beyond the comfort of your own home, who has travelled, met new people, and seen new places—and who has borrowed musical inspiration from different artists and cultures, how do you feel like that translates into your identity as an artist?
Sergevolant: It’s so huge for me to be seen as a Lebanese artist, and for someone to listen to my record and acknowledge that it came from a Lebanese artist in Lebanon. I’m so proud because I think I was a bit afraid to make something I might not identify with a lot. But I identify with this so much. I’m very proud.
Being here, in Beirut, we’re so open to so many different cultures. And wherever we go, as cheesy as it sounds, we know how to get by. And our music reflects this openness and fluidity.
Even if you look at acts like Ziad Rahbani, what was genius about him amongst many things was that he brought jazz to the country and revisited it in his own way through the cultural lens. Who are we to not also continue with this idea? Japanese music is a nice example and a reflection of what I’ve tried to do with my own album: trying to make a record that sounds a bit Japanese, and maybe there might be a movement that follows or grows where other Lebanese artists are also inspired by Japanese instruments.
Sergevolant pictured playing his set. May 2025. InReunion, Beirut, Lebanon. Photo by Raghed Waked.
Michelle: Serge, you mentioned something interesting during our conversation before this interview on how the Arab music scene is often categorized and seen as this one monolith. Can you tell me a bit more about that?
Sergevolant: I think a lot of the time the West bundles Arab artists or Middle Eastern artists together, but you never hear them talk of European artists, for example. It’s always French, English, German, Spanish artists. We also have such diversity in the Arab world. I’m not against the concept of unity within the Arab world, but I don’t want the art to be diluted because there’s so much beauty in the differences that we have. It’s such a huge region. Take Moayad for example. Moayad is a Saudi artist, and it makes me so happy to see great rap coming out in Arabic, and I identify with this a lot, but I’m also so happy to see what’s going on with the scene in Saudi and how it’s amounting to something. Same thing in Cairo. Same thing in Palestine. Same thing with us in Lebanon.
For example, I like for people to know Lebanese rapper El Rass is Arab. Or for him to be known as Lebanese too. But El Rass is from Tripoli, and that is so freaking cool, and it plays a huge part in his identity as an artist. It’s not looking to mention these geographies to split people, but as a means of appreciation for the individual experiences of certain places. It’s inspiring.
Michelle: What are your next steps after the album release?
Sergevolant: I’m looking to continue in music as a tool to say something. Obviously, putting the album out there is pretty sweet, and seeing a little traction online is nice. In 50 years, looking back, it’ll be such a nice gift I gave myself. These records will outlast us. Onto album two, let’s see!
Support your local artists!
You can listen to Sergevolant’s debut album, Everyday is all there is, here.
- Michelle Eid
- Michelle Eid



















