We asked Zeyne about her music, her creative process, and the words that carry the most weight in her scene.
What almost ended up being your artist name before you landed on ‘Zeyne’?
I actually considered ‘Yafa’ for a while, which is my mom’s hometown in Palestine. I felt really drawn to it because of everything it represents historically and emotionally, especially as someone who grew up hearing stories about it and understanding what it means to my family. There’s so much weight and beauty in that name. But the more I sat with it, the more I realised I wanted my artist name to reflect me more directly and personally. So, I eventually landed on Zeyne, which comes from my own name, and just changed the spelling slightly to create a bit of differentiation and make it feel more like its own identity as an artist name.
If someone heard just one track from you, which should it be, and why?
That’s a tough one, but I’d probably say either Asli Ana or Bali. Both of those songs come from a really important period of my life, not just as an artist but as a person as well. They reflect a time when I was learning a lot about myself, about where I come from, and about the kind of music I wanted to make. So in that sense, they hold a lot of honesty and clarity for me. I think if someone hears one of those tracks, they understand more than just my artistic style or my tone of voice. They get a sense of the emotions, the identity, and the perspective that shape the music I make. Those songs say a lot about who I am and what I want my music to stand for.
Weirdest place you’ve ever written a bar/lyric?
Probably a random farm in Madaba, which honestly doesn’t sound that weird when I say it out loud. But I remember being there and suddenly writing something down, which was funny because it wasn’t a place I expected to be thinking about music at all. Ideas genuinely can show up anywhere, even when you’re completely outside of your usual environment, and I think it’s a funny thing because I could be in the most random place and suddenly write a line that actually ends up making it into a song.
What’s your toxic creative habit?
I think one of my toxic creative habits is that sometimes I start thinking too much from the perspective of the listener. Instead of just creating freely, the voice in my head starts editing things and wondering how people will hear and receive it, which can get confusing in the process. It’s a tricky balance because some awareness is important, but if you lean too far into it, it can take you out of the instinct of why you’re making the track in the first place.
What’s something you had to unlearn to grow musically?
Honestly, I had to get over myself a little bit and just execute the ideas in my head, even if they weren’t perfect. For a long time I would hold back because I’m quite a perfectionist, so if something didn’t feel fully formed or exactly how I imagined it, I’d hesitate to follow through with it. But I realised that a lot of growth comes from actually making things and getting them done, even when I'm not convinced. Sometimes the idea you think is ‘bad’ ends up leading you somewhere unexpected, or it unlocks something better. Learning to let myself experiment and not over-polish every thought before it exists was a big shift for me creatively.
Who’s an artist from your city that deserves more love?
I’d say Yazan Roussan for sure. He’s an incredible songwriter, and the way he translates emotion into lyrics is really expressive and thoughtful. There’s a lot of depth in the way he writes that comes across as so natural and super honest. His vocals and musicianship are also really, really special, and I think he deserves a lot more attention for the kind of artistry he brings to his music and to the industry as a whole.
Dream collab: who’s on your wishlist & why?
Wow, another tough question. I couldn’t just pick one, so I’ll give two from opposite ends of the spectrum, which are Fairouz and Lauryn Hill. So self-explanatory, I feel, because their music is so transcendental in different ways. They’ve both created work that feels timeless, the kind of classics that really can’t be matched. I grew up listening to them, and in their own way, they both pushed me toward pursuing music. The emotional depth, the storytelling, the presence they carry in their voices, it’s something that stays with you for sure.
If your music were a place, where would it be?
Honestly, I have no clue. I don’t think that place exists yet. I’d probably have to imagine building it first… or ask AI to generate it, but for environmental reasons... we’ll leave it to the imagination.
How do you get re-inspired when you hit a creative block?
When I hit a creative block, the first thing I try to do is look inward and understand why it’s happening. Sometimes it’s just mental exhaustion or pressure, so I try to slow down and reset a bit. That could be through therapy, meditation, going for a long walk, or spending time in nature. I could come off a bit cliché, but those things genuinely help me decompress and reconnect with myself before trying to force any creativity.
Once I’ve created that space, I usually turn to other forms of art for inspiration. I like to step outside of music and look at films, poetry, fine art, dance, things that express emotion in completely different ways. There’s something about seeing how other mediums translate feeling or storytelling that always sparks something in me. At some point, that inspiration naturally finds its way back into music, whether it’s through a melody, a lyric, or just a new way of approaching a song.











