Don’t let her kindness fool you; Zeyne is here to put up a fight — against the erasure of Arab culture, against the genocide of the Palestinians, against the vilification of her folk that the mainstream narrative in the West has been crafting for decades. “In this day and age, a lot a lot of people are trying to erase our language, culture, heritage, identity, and history,” she denounces in this interview. “But it’s so rich that you cannot erase any of that.”
Catching up with Zeyne amid the buzz of Soundstorm festival was a breath of fresh air. She’s so welcoming, endearing, and sweet; she’s proud of achieving milestones like being on stage at the Saudi festival (the biggest in the MENA region) or performing for A Colors Show. The Palestinian-Jordanian singer used the pandemic to fall in love with music again, starting an account that was supposed to last the fourteen days of quarantine where she just showed half of her face. But the positive feedback and the self-confidence she started gaining fuelled her passion and drove her to keep up.
Now, four years later, she’s a thrilling artist whose work is worth paying attention to — she has something to say, and she says it beautifully. In her latest release, the highly emotive and celebratory 7arrir 3aqlak / Asli Ana, she puts her Palestinian identity at the forefront and portrays it in a luminous way. “It shows us in a positive light because all we’ve been seeing for the past seventy-six years is just so much oppression. So I wanted also to shift the way that the world sees us, if that makes sense,” she tells METAL in this interview. After watching her performance at DWN Beast stage, we catch up with Zeyne to discuss music as resistance, the celebration of Arab identity and culture, and our shared love for Rosalía.
Hey Zeyne, it’s a pleasure to speak with you. How are you feeling today?
Thank you! I’m feeling great. How are you?
I'm doing alright as well, thank you. You first got into making music with the pandemic, starting with the Instagram account @14daysofquarantine. What clicked at that time that made you explore your artistic side?
Two things. My reconnection to music reminded me of how much I loved it. When I was away in uni, I didn't have the chance to really play the piano or experiment or sing. I used to sing on my own (karaoke videos and stuff), but not really create and play and feel. So that was that. And then, also, people’s reactions to my videos kind of pushed me to post more, so I kept going — I’m glad I did.
We’re all glad because we get to know and listen to you! You’ve grown a lot since then — your confidence, your courage, your artistry. What are you the most proud of when you take a look back at that journey, from a small Instagram account to the global artist you are today?
You know what the funny thing is? When I had that account, I used to post half of my face because of how shy I was. I've grown so much since, and I'm so grateful that I had this chance to do so. You know, that I believed in myself, that the people around me believed in me, that my parents pushed me to pursue this. So I'm very, very grateful to have had the environment around me that kind of led me where I am today.
Let's discuss your latest release, the incredibly moving 7arrir 3aqlak / Asli Ana, which celebrates your Palestinian and Arab identity. Tell me a little bit more about the important message you send, especially such an important time.
Of course. It celebrates our culture and it’s about claiming our identity and who we are, because in in this day and age, a lot a lot of people are trying to erase our language, culture, heritage, identity, and history. But it’s so rich that you cannot erase any of that. So the song, paired with the video, is a statement to say: this is who we are and we’re not going anywhere.
This is our way of resisting — by existing. But not only do we exist, we exist beautifully. We have beautiful and rich culture. It shows us in a positive light because all we’ve been seeing for the past seventy-six years is just so much oppression. So I wanted also to shift the way that the world sees us, if that makes sense.
This is our way of resisting — by existing. But not only do we exist, we exist beautifully. We have beautiful and rich culture. It shows us in a positive light because all we’ve been seeing for the past seventy-six years is just so much oppression. So I wanted also to shift the way that the world sees us, if that makes sense.
It totally does. Speaking of the erasure of the Palestinians and having to see constantly your people being diminished, erased, and basically undergoing a genocide — it has to be so mentally draining and exhausting. Just reading the news or social media must be triggering. What do you do to sort of disconnect from that reality or try to keep your mental health as sane as possible?
It's so tough, it’s really tough. And you can’t switch off even if you want to. I’m so privileged that I could swipe or ignore those stories that feel so disturbing to see, but I force myself to watch because I don’t want to normalise these scenes in my head. I don’t want to feel numb from the inside or not moved anymore, so I actually do the opposite. I stay aware and keep connecting to what’s happening, talk to people in Gaza — I have a lot of followers from there. So I stay engaged, posting, sharing FundMe links on my story to help families, maybe buying certain things people need there…
For those of us who’re outside Gaza, it’s an alternative universe. We're here in a festival today, which feels crazy and so dystopian. Other people are experiencing a very different reality, so I feel extremely privileged as a Palestinian to be here today, to be able to sing my music and tell my stories, to push our identity to the forefront. I think that’s my responsibility as an artist as well — to reflect the times.
For those of us who’re outside Gaza, it’s an alternative universe. We're here in a festival today, which feels crazy and so dystopian. Other people are experiencing a very different reality, so I feel extremely privileged as a Palestinian to be here today, to be able to sing my music and tell my stories, to push our identity to the forefront. I think that’s my responsibility as an artist as well — to reflect the times.
That connects with my next question. Music, to a lot of people, serves as an escape from reality, but to many others, it is also a way to reflect and ground oneself on that reality. So, both as an artist and as a listener, how do you navigate this dichotomy?
As a listener, I'm being attracted more and more to artists that push their cultures to the forefront. An example of that is Rosalía — she took flamenco to the next level and crafted that into her own sound. Apart from that, music is one way of resisting anything in the world, whether it be your own stories, personal struggles, or a struggle of a whole nation.
When you think about it, art is so powerful because it is really influential. When I think of people who’ve had influence in me, no politicians come to mind. It’s creatives and thinkers. So we really have a chance to utilise it in a way that reshapes culture and the times and just the way to go into the future.
When you think about it, art is so powerful because it is really influential. When I think of people who’ve had influence in me, no politicians come to mind. It’s creatives and thinkers. So we really have a chance to utilise it in a way that reshapes culture and the times and just the way to go into the future.
Earlier this year, you did A Colors Show, where you performed Ma Bansak. On Instagram, you wrote that it was unbelievable to be doing something that you were admiring when you were at uni. So was there a pinch me moment where you realised that you’ve made it (or that you were on the path to really making it)?
The Colors show was definitely one of these moments for me because as I told you, this was my dream — to become something in the arts, go into music, have my music reach so many people. I want to build a community where we can rely on each other. So when I got the email from the Colors’ team, oh my god, I was in disbelief for a good ten minutes!
I was in the studio with my producer, Nolte, and I was screaming the whole time. Where's the camera? I couldn't believe myself. During uni, I used to watch it and have it as a background. And each of my friends used to love this show too. We would get introduced to some of our favourite new artists through that show, so it just felt so special. I'm very, very, grateful for that.
I was in the studio with my producer, Nolte, and I was screaming the whole time. Where's the camera? I couldn't believe myself. During uni, I used to watch it and have it as a background. And each of my friends used to love this show too. We would get introduced to some of our favourite new artists through that show, so it just felt so special. I'm very, very, grateful for that.
I have one last question. I see your earrings, and they’re almost the same from the ones you wear in both the Colors show and the Asli Ana music video. Do they have a meaning?
They're by a Palestinian-Jordanian designer called Karma Malhas. These are inspired by Palestinian embroidery, and she mixes that with tribal elements as well. In the past year I really started to discover my visual identity and incorporating more of my culture into it.
So they are transformable?
No, they’re different pairs.
Oh, so you’re a good customer! Also, could you please write her name in my phone so I get the name right?
Sure, of course! Where are you from, by the way?
I’m from Barcelona, like La Rosalía! (Laughs)
No way! So when I named her, it hit the spot?
Yes, a hundred per cent. I love her work, I think she’s one of the greatest artists right now — her sound, her lyrics, the concept behind each album, her live performances… She’s just phenomenal. You don’t speak Spanish, so you don’t automatically understand her lyrics, and I wonder in what ways do you relate to her music?
The two things that attracted me to her were, first of all, the production and her sound — I felt like that was next level. It was unbelievable. I’m always looking for something fresh, something that I haven’t heard before, and she was one of those people for me. And I think also the concepts behind everything that she does are impeccable. It’s just… chef’s kiss. So after looking at these two things, the language came third to me — the lyrics. Sometimes I look up the translation to understand what she's talking about. She has a song called the G, 3, and 15.
Yeah, it’s pronounced ‘Genís’ — it’s a Catalan name.
No way! Okay, so she sings this to a cousin or something, and how she’s missed out on his childhood due to Covid. I didn’t think that the song was like that at all when I first listened to it. Or hentai, I had no clue what that meant at first. And then I looked it up and I was like, oh, okay (laughs).
I want people to do this with Arabic music as well. I want us to take the production to the next level so that they have to listen even if they don't understand. They would wanna understand because it's so good, you know what I mean? This is a goal of mine — take everything to the next level and on a global stage.
I want people to do this with Arabic music as well. I want us to take the production to the next level so that they have to listen even if they don't understand. They would wanna understand because it's so good, you know what I mean? This is a goal of mine — take everything to the next level and on a global stage.
I love it! That’s precisely what I did with your music actually, I turned on the subtitles on the YouTube videos to understand what you were talking about.
That’s lovely, thank you!
