Two homelands, one sound
When Greek-French artist Hellas decided to spend a year in Athens, it wasn’t just a visit. It was a quiet attempt to connect with a place that had always felt familiar, yet far away. Born and raised in France, he had only known Greece through two-week summer trips even though most of his family is rooted there.
“I always felt like a tourist,” he says. “Like this was supposed to be my country too, but I didn’t really belong. I wanted to experience the authentic Greece.”
That desire – to belong fully to both places – has shaped not just his life, but his music. Now based in Lyon, Hellas navigates effortlessly between languages and cultural references. His sound blends the pulse of French rap with textures from Greece, sometimes lyrical, sometimes raw. Greek slips into his verses the way it enters his thoughts naturally “That’s how I speak, it’s not planned.”
His musical roots are firmly planted in France, but his Greek identity runs deep, in his lyrics, in his sound, even in his name. “I chose the name Hellas when I was really young, just writing it as a tag.” Later, he discovered that in Greece, the word isn’t entirely neutral. It often appears in nationalist or far-right rhetoric, something he hadn’t anticipated. At first, he considered changing it. But in the end, he didn’t want to let go of something he felt he could redefine. “I want to take it back. Like some movements in France that reclaim symbols. I like the idea that someone sees my name and assumes something, and then listens to my music and realizes I’m the exact opposite.
He doesn’t feel caught between France and Greece. Instead, he’s found a way to hold both together without having to compromise either side. His lyrics explore love, loss, displacement, and politics, and in recent years, Greece has become more present in his writing. Not the postcard Greece of sun and white houses, but the one he experienced by living in it.
“People abroad think Greece is just sea, sun, and white houses,” he says. “But there’s another side, more complex, more difficult, and just as beautiful. I want to show that too.”
That sense of honesty matters deeply to him, both in lyrics and visuals. His latest music video, made in collaboration with Koma Production, reflects that balance. Shot in Exarchia, a neighborhood he approached with care, the video avoids clichés and romanticization. “It was tricky,” he admits. “I didn’t want it to feel like a tourist take. But I also didn’t want to fake a connection to places I haven’t lived in.” A friend suggested her father’s bar in the neighborhood, a spot that instantly felt real and personal. “In the end, I think we got it right.”
Spending a year in Athens shaped far more than just a few songs. “I saw and felt things that will stay with me. I wrote a lot this year. The next EP will be like a summary – a first chapter.”
Hellas makes music for people like him – kids from the block or the ones who’ve felt out of place, who carry more than one language in their heads, more than one home in their hearts. “People who get it, whether I’m talking about politics, love, or just the feeling of being somewhere in-between.” Either way, music for him is connection, a way to speak across places, without translation.
At a time when identity is often simplified or boxed in, Hellas chooses something more fluid. His music doesn’t try to resolve the contradictions. It simply lives with them. Somewhere in that space, he has found a voice that feels like his own.
