MUSE — Life lessons from inspirational women: Talia Lahoud 

MUSE — Life lessons from inspirational women: Talia Lahoud 
Talia Lahoud is a Lebanese singer and songwriter. (Supplied)
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Updated 25 September 2025
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MUSE — Life lessons from inspirational women: Talia Lahoud 

MUSE — Life lessons from inspirational women: Talia Lahoud 

DUBAI: The Lebanese singer-songwriter talks creativity, consistency, and compliments.  

I was obsessed with Disney movies and musicals when I was a kid — just falling in love with the magic of music and storytelling. Since then, I’ve never really stopped singing. Music was always around me growing up, my family has a real love and appreciation for all kinds of music, so it felt natural to dive deeper into it.  

For me, creation comes from the deepest parts of the heart, and being able to share it with people who connect with it is so intimate, real, and powerful. Music is literally all of me, and the fact that I can make others feel what I feel through it is an incomparable experience. It’s the connection and the honesty that I receive that makes me love my work more than anything. 

I’m not the most outgoing person, and I really value quality time with my family. I have a lot of different interests that keep me balanced: I love going to the gym, I’m a total foodie, and I’m obsessed with fashion! I also love spending quiet time watching movies or series, it’s one of my favorite ways to recharge. These hobbies bring me peace, and they give me the rest I need to come back to music with more energy and creativity. 




Talia Lahoud. (Supplied)

I’ve always found myself relating to characters in movies or TV shows. For example, I loved “The Queen’s Gambit,” “Stranger Things,” and “Anne with an E.” They’re very different stories, but what they share in common is a young girl trying to figure out her life in her own way and in her own time. That really resonates with me, because I feel like I’m constantly discovering my own path, learning as I go, and staying truthful to who I am as a person and as an artist. 

I have so many people I really look up to both as artists and as humans. From incredible Arab legends like Fayrouz, Umm Kulthum, Sherine Abdelwahab and Amr Diab, to amazing Western artists like Demi Lovato, Selena Gomez, Coldplay, Ed Sheeran, and Sia. I admire them all so much. What really inspires me is how true they are to their craft. They had struggles and setbacks, yet they managed to create music that touches people and stay authentic. I aspire to follow their footsteps and become like them. 

l give off a very introverted vibe — especially years back when I was only sharing covers and music online. But recently I’ve started showing more of my personality online, and people discovered sides of me they didn’t know about, like my sense of humor, empathy… Music shows a part of me but it’s different when your content reveals the unfiltered side of who you are — the part people can’t see unless they really know you. I do look shy, and I guess I kind of am, but my heart is much more open than it first appears. 

I’m proud of my consistency and dedication; getting up every single day and putting in the same energy and effort as if I’m starting fresh. Whether it’s a little or a lot, I give my all, and knowing that I’m always doing my best gives me peace, both personally and creatively. That daily commitment to myself and my craft is something I’m proud of. 

I can be really critical of myself, even when I’m trying my hardest. Over time, I’ve learned that I need to be easier on myself, to trust that things take time, that plans don’t always go perfectly, and that every detour can actually open a new door in God’s plan. I’ve realized that giving myself a little more love and patience is just as important as working hard, and that lesson has been really powerful for both my personal and creative growth. 

Something I came across on the internet really stuck with me: “If you have God, then you have nothing to worry about.” I’ve always been someone who stresses about almost everything in life. My path hasn’t always been easy or what I planned, and for a long time, I didn’t trust God as much as I should have. Slowly, I’m learning to trust more, to be grateful for what I have, and to take things one step at a time. That advice has really helped me feel patient, faithful, and just trust the process 

I’ll never get tired of being delusional when it comes to dreaming. I’ve heard so many times that I need to “be realistic” about my goals. But I believe that the things we can achieve are endless if we let ourselves dream. Especially when we put in hard work.

I love it when someone tells me that I’m down to earth. I know that I naturally feel close to people and love them with my whole heart, but hearing that makes me feel seen in a special way. Growing up, I often felt a little out of place or like I didn’t fit in, so being recognized as someone genuine really means a lot. It’s one of those compliments that makes me feel appreciated for who I truly am. 

One of the worst things I’ve heard came from a classmate years ago: “Music won’t bring you bread.” That line stuck with me for a long time, but it fueled my determination to prove people wrong. I’ve faced lots of people who didn’t believe in me, but I focused on the voices of those who did. Their support kept me going, and honestly, the doubt and hate only made me more unstoppable. It taught me that believing in yourself is far more powerful than anyone else’s opinions. 

When someone genuinely recognizes a mistake and takes the step to apologize, it’s such a green flag for me. It shows that they’re coming from a good place in their heart. No one is perfect, but being willing to admit when we’re wrong and try to do better really matters to me, and it’s something I deeply value in people.   

The biggest challenge I’ve faced when dealing with men in the industry is not being taken seriously. For example, when I’m in the studio, there’s often this assumption that a man must have written the song, even when I’m the writer. It’s frustrating how quickly women’s capabilities are underestimated, especially creatively. But I truly believe women are powerhouses, and I plan to prove that through my artistry, showing that we can do everything just as well, if not better. 

I don’t waste my energy trying to convince anyone in the moment. Instead, I focus on showing exactly what I’m capable of through my work. The results will speak for themselves. I won’t try to force anyone into seeing what they cannot see now, they eventually will later. 

I think men can learn so many things from women: the art of balancing many things in life, patience, dealing with problems with calm energy, tapping into their feelings more… Men are born to be great leaders, but when a woman is a leader yet she is still empathetic, creative, and loving? Well, that’s a combination they should be a little scared of. 


How a new generation of Arab musicians is blending heritage and innovation

How a new generation of Arab musicians is blending heritage and innovation
Updated 51 min 43 sec ago
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How a new generation of Arab musicians is blending heritage and innovation

How a new generation of Arab musicians is blending heritage and innovation
  • Emerging musicians are embracing bilingual lyrics and hybrid styles to reflect diverse identities and global cultural exchange
  • Creative hubs and community projects are helping independent artists collaborate, experiment, and reach wider audiences

DUBAI: On a small street in Beirut, the sound of an oud drifts through the open doors of a small cafe called Orenda. Inside, all eyes turn to Joe Kamel as his melody takes over, replacing the cafe’s buzz with a slower, softer mood.

A pharmacist by day, Kamel has built a second life through his music — one that reconnects people with something familiar and deeply sentimental.

“My passion was born at a very young age,” Kamel told Arab News.

“I have memories from perhaps the age of five, when I used to sing in a choir. That’s where my journey and love of music and culture began.”

Hisham Kharma says artists across the region are "being more daring, blending genres, and and redefining what Arab music can be.”

When everyone around him wanted to learn guitar, he picked up the oud instead.

“I wanted to learn something close to my Arabic heritage,” he said. “Both worlds are exceedingly different, but one hectic career is balanced by my musical one to restore calm and peace.”

At the cafe, his regular crowd is a mix of Lebanese locals and Europeans who may not understand the words, but still feel every note.

“Arabic music can be dramatic and romantic, but each song and chord tells a story,” he said.

For Kamel, that storytelling is what keeps his performances personal. If the music connects with even one listener, he said, that is enough to make it worthwhile.

He sees live performance as an exchange of energy, not just sound. Reading the room, he often adjusts his set on the spot to match the crowd’s mood.

“It’s hugely important to gauge what the audience wants,” he said. “Deviating from what I planned is something I’ll do if it means everyone enjoys the experience.”

Music events across the Arab world mix local heritage and global influences. ( Dubai World Trade Centre photo)

Kamel believes that renewed interest in traditional instruments such as the oud reflects a wider cultural shift. Many young people, he said, are looking for something they can feel — a break from digital music and a return to the authenticity of live performance.

That revival of live, communal music is not limited to Lebanon. Across the Arab world, a new generation of musicians is finding fresh ways to mix heritage and innovation.

From Riyadh’s warehouse parties to Dubai’s creative hubs and Cairo’s open-air concerts, a new generation of musicians is blurring boundaries between tradition and innovation.

Egyptian composer Hisham Kharma, who has performed in cities from Hamburg to Miami and at historic sites such as the Pyramids of Giza, says that it is a natural evolution.

“Living in such diverse cities taught me that music is universal, but each culture adds its own flavor,” he told Arab News.

Kharma said that nothing compares to performing live, where music becomes a dialogue rather than a presentation.

“On stage, the music becomes a conversation — you feel every reaction instantly,” he said. “It’s that shared emotion, that real-time connection, that keeps me coming back.”

For him, Arab identity in music is not about looking back — it is about carrying that sound forward. 

“Our heritage gives us identity, but innovation keeps us alive and connected to the present,” he said.

“When I perform in places like the Pyramids, it’s about showing that our culture isn’t ancient history — it’s evolving.”

He describes the moment as one of bold creativity.

“Artists across the region are being more daring, blending genres, and redefining what Arab music can be,” he said.

“Our culture is incredibly deep, and now we’re expressing it in fresh, modern ways.”

In Saudi Arabia, that creativity has found new visibility — and new confidence.

Artists such as TamTam are leading a cultural shift that feels personal as much as national. Her songs move between Arabic and English with ease, a reflection of her own story.

“It’s just who I am; it didn’t shape me; I shaped the music,” she told Arab News. “My identity is what defines my art.”

Her upcoming album, Ma3assalama, captures that duality; one side Arabic, one side English.

“It’s about the two sides of who I am; my Arabic roots and my Western identity that’s also a part of me,” she said. “I just hope it inspires people to embrace who they are, even if they don’t fit neatly into one box.”

TamTam has watched the country’s music scene transform in just a few years — from underground performances to global stages.

“I’m so proud of the artists coming from Saudi, each one with their own beautiful journey unfolding,” she said.

“It’s only the beginning, but honestly, every part of the journey matters — the beginning, the middle, the end, and everything in between.”

Beyond her own music, TamTam is helping to shape that journey for others through Goast Flower, a creative hub she founded to bring musicians together.

The name comes from the “ghost flower,” a plant that blooms without sunlight.

“It grows in the darkest parts of the forest,” TamTam said. “It blooms without needing light, and that really resonated with me as an independent artist who’s always kept creating, no matter what.”

Through Goast Flower’s Saudi Music Community, artists can find each other, collaborate and share resources.

“Big companies have told me they’re using the database to find and discover artists,” TamTam said. “I don’t want to gatekeep the data. I truly want people in the music community here to find each other more easily.”

She believes that real growth begins in small spaces — the cafes, courtyards and pop-up stages where young artists play their first shows.

“We hope that through the Saudi music community, these artists can find others to collaborate with, but more importantly, that they find a support system,” she said.

Last month, Goast Flower hosted an event with Apple Music MENA in Riyadh, where emerging musicians met industry professionals and ended the night with a spontaneous jam session.

“It was such a beautiful night and a true testament to what community can create,” TamTam said. “These kinds of collaborations help artists learn, grow and dream bigger.”

Whether it is the delicate strings of an oud in Beirut or an electronic beat pulsing through a Riyadh warehouse, these gatherings are doing something powerful — bringing people together through sound.

Kamel’s evenings at Orenda may seem worlds away from Kharma’s symphonic shows or TamTam’s pop, but they all share the same intention; to connect, to express, to belong.

As Kharma put it: “Artists across the region are being more daring, blending genres, and redefining what Arab music can be.”

More than just a shift in style, this new wave of Arab music is helping people to reconnect — with each other, their roots and national identity.

“Lebanon has been through so much historically, and playing the oud is one of my ways of escaping some of the unfortunate situations we’ve lived through,” Kamel said. 

“I want my music to create a safe place for people to learn, enjoy, come together and leave with a feeling of pride, peace and love of music, heritage and culture.”