Electrifying Sounds: An Interview with Isam Elias

Isam Elias is a Palestinian pianist, composer, singer, and songwriter. Born in 1991 in Nazareth, he graduated from the Rimon School of Jazz and Contemporary Music in 2017, specialising in piano performance and music production. He co-founded the Ghazall Band, who released their debut album A Tareeq in 2017, as well as Zenobia, a Haifa-based Palestinian electronic duo consisting of Elias and Nasser Halahlih named after the 3rd-century queen of the Palmyrene Empire in Syria. Zenobia released their debut album Halak Halak in 2020; their latest album Warriors Never Die was released in 2023. They are at the forefront of the contemporary Palestinian electronic music scene, combining Arabic pop melodies, traditional Levantine dabke rhythms, synthesisers, and powerful electronic beats.

This interview was conducted via email by Imed Alibi on 10 July 2025 following Elias’s performance at Ibraaz on 5 July 2025. In the interview, Elias discusses what it means to rework and reimagine traditional Palestinian and Arab sounds using modern electronic techniques, and reflects on the growing and global popularity of Arab electronic music and its ability to transcend both musical and national borders.

Credits:
Videographer: Talie Rose Eigeland
Video Editor: Youssef Zariyat
 

Imed Alibi (IA): Arab electronic music moves easily across borders, often more so than traditional forms. What gives it this immediate resonance? Is it the sound or the context?

Isam Elias (IE): Arab electronic music is still based on traditional Arab music. What’s special about Arab music is the scales used, which are very different to the scales used in traditional western music. This micro tuning has this special effect and puts everyone in an Arab-oriental vibe no matter where the music is played. I think what makes it so strong is the mix between folkloric and familiar melodies and the sounds of synthesisers and electric instruments. Now we have infinite sounds that can be created using keyboards and more. Electrifying sounds. Creating Arab music using western production techniques and beats makes it very strong and brings good energy, smiles, and moves.

IA: You started with classical piano, which is based on a world of rules. What drew you to electronic music? Was it escape, curiosity, or necessity?

IE: I started as a classical pianist but I always wanted more of this instrument, more of this keyboard. As much as I was into classical music I was also into traditional, folkloric, and dabke music. I also listened to and liked lots of other kinds of music like rock, reggae, hip hop, etc. I always had two sides to my piano playing. The first was very traditional and classical; the second was more alternative, as I played with rappers, wrote reggae songs, and stuff like that. The piano is the main instrument for me, and one nice thing about it is that it’s an instrument with which you can compose and play different styles, such as bass, rhythm, solos, and more. So for me it’s the big open door for music. Then I got interested in synthesising my own sounds and put the piano in the middle of an electric set up.

IA: Does electronic music free you from the frameworks imposed on Arab artists or does it create new ones? Is it a refuge or just another border?

IE: I think that the frameworks imposed on Arab artists is changing now. We have huge names and a lot of creations everywhere and in every field. We have alternative Arabic music, reggae songs, rock, and soft rock songs; we have a huge wave in the rap and hip hop scene. Everywhere – from Palestine and Jordan to Lebanon, Egypt, Sudan, and Libia – it’s really exploding! I think that electronic music has also emerged alongside these other genres. Lots of Arab artists are performing in the biggest festivals in the world. Arab electronic music is growing rapidly and is streamed everywhere, and has acquired this big positive reputation. I think it breaks borders.

IA: After Zenobia, what shifted for you? How did that collaboration mark your path?

IE: Zenobia was the first project where I explored and got deeper into the sounds of electric keyboards and synthesisers. It was the project that took me on this voyage of reproducing Palestinian sounds and folkloric music in a new or modern way using different keyboards and western beats. It was my first jump into this electronic world, which hasn’t stopped to expand!

IA: In the media, your Palestinianness can eclipse your music. How do you balance being a symbol and being an artist?

IE: I don’t think that my music covers my Palestinianness. Wherever I go my music speaks for itself and it shows where I come from and it holds my Palestinianness. Until now, all the music I’ve composed is instrumental. My next album, which will be released in 2026, will also include songs with lyrics and feature different artists from different places. Maybe that will make the political content or message of the music clearer. Because I don’t think you can separate an artist from their own life stories. It’s not only entertainment. Our art documents a life story and our own ways of doing things.

IA: As AI mines archives and lost sounds, is this real innovation or just recycling? How do you avoid algorithmic cliché when so much memory is at risk?

IE: I don’t use AI when creating my sounds. And anyway, drawing on old archives and making old sounds live again is not a bad thing; it’s a blessing. But it’s also a responsibility; a responsibility not to trash any of it.

IA: Your work presents a sonic map of loss and place, creating music that is against forgetting. How does listening become a tool for reclaiming what’s threatened?

IE: Just spreading these sounds and this music that can easily be identified and recognised is important. I think that we are living in times when most of the people are a little bit more aware of things. So they can really identify and recognise where this music is coming from and what it’s reclaiming. Listening to our music, eating our food, speaking even a little of our language, all of this is increasing and helping with reclaiming what’s threatened.

IA: Your performances echo with fading dialects and lost rituals. What’s your responsibility in translating these memories? How do you resist nostalgia and oversimplification?

IE: I feel a deep responsibility to carry these memories – not to archive them as something frozen in the past, but to keep them alive by giving them a new shape. I’m not trying to recreate something exactly as it was, and I don’t want to just play into nostalgia. For me, it’s about transforming these sounds and rituals into something that speaks today’s language. Using electronic tools and modern setups allows me to reimagine those fading elements, without losing their spirit. I try to avoid oversimplification by staying true to the complexity of the culture I come from. That means respecting the details – the scales, the rhythms, the feeling behind each sound – but also not being afraid to reinterpret them. It’s not about copying the past, it’s about keeping it in motion. That way, it’s not just memory – it’s still alive, still evolving.