Your background in dance, acting, and music is quite diverse. How have these different experiences influenced your sound and approach to music?
Although diverse, I found after working extensively within the performing arts that emotional expression, vulnerability and human connection to be the defining crossovers within each. I definitely see my learnings from each artform influence the way I approach making music for instance. If I’m ever struggling to find the words when writing, sometimes I may dance to help me tap into what exactly it is I’m feeling and wanting to communicate. Dance was the first art form with which I learnt emotional expression, so I have a certain affinity for it.
The name RAYHAB carries a powerful meaning. What inspired you to choose it, and how does it reflect your personal and artistic journey?
I don’t think I’m alone in the feeling of not being enough, and at the time the character of ‘Rahab’ really resonated with me. If I’m being completely honest, I was in the church when I came across the story of Rahab and was completely fascinated with the character. I naively wondered why she wasn’t talked about more – I mean a sex worker in the bible, at a time when women were seen as less than even dirt, who god thought she was worthy enough to be in direct lineage of Jesus. I think some dudes in the church like to keep this one under wraps, but I was like, “nah we are going to talk about this.”
Your music has a cinematic, richly layered quality. Can you walk us through your creative process when building such intricate production?
Each song within this body of work started at the piano, at the same time that I was growing and exploring my capacity as a producer/engineer. I wanted each track to reflect a full expression of my own humanity and experience, which is why it was so important for me to write, produce and engineer the tracks myself. They didn’t happen overnight, rather the result of about 5 years of refining. I would sketch out demos, reflect on them, build on them, remove sections. I learnt to create software patches that allowed me to draw images, which would turn into sound. For example, I could write the word ‘hope’ and then hear what that would sound like. I converted old telephones into microphones, then ran them through outboard gear to completely distort the sound. I came to find that I loved a combination of acoustic and synthetic sounds for my music, and this is where Rayhab’s sonics currently lie. Somewhere between the smooth ambience of a cello or big reverberated guitar, and strange distorted percussion or a crunchy guitar over a dance beat. I wanted to be able to dance and find strength through hardship.
‘Overkill’ dives deep into a tough relationship. Was writing the song a therapeutic experience for you, and how did it help you process those emotions?
It was definitely a cathartic experience. I remember really overthinking my feelings at the time, viewing them as a reflection of my own worth (that old chestnut). It was so nice to put pen to paper with this track and find almost immediate relief. I was like, “oh this is actually not a person I want in my life, this isn’t fun and actually, I don’t think I even enjoy this person’s company.”
Your upcoming EP ‘Residue’ has drawn comparisons to artists like Aurora and Kate Bush. How do you feel about those comparisons, and how do they align with your artistic vision?
I’m a huge fan of both artists. Mum likes to tell me she was listening to Kate Bush when I was in her belly. For people to be drawing those comparisons, it’s a huge compliment for me. Both visionaries embody dance within their work which I feel totally aligns with my artistic vision.
You’ve worked with some top names in the industry. What’s one of the most valuable lessons or pieces of advice you’ve gained from collaborating with other artists and producers?
If it sounds good, it is good. Haha! But in all honesty, I’ve learnt so many valuable lessons, so many producers have their own take on things. You pick up some tricks and drop others, it really depends on what you are working on. I’ve learnt there is some merit in being laborious and perfectionistic, but not if it prevents you from putting your work into the world. They say there is a lot of work for producers who can finish the job.
As both a producer and songwriter, you have full creative control over your music. What are some of the challenges in managing all these roles, and how do you balance them?
It can be difficult. I’m a do it all kind of person, but it’s awesome that creatively one flows into the other. I’m learning, as the workload increases, that I need to be strategic with task delegation. Aside from the importance of having another set of ears on my tracks, this is why I won’t master my own songs.
‘Overkill’ addresses themes of deception and heartbreak. What message or feeling do you hope listeners walk away with after hearing the song?
I hope listeners will feel a sense of empowerment to let go, and comradery in knowing they are not alone.
Since your debut in 2020, you’ve had quite a journey in the music industry. What has been your proudest moment so far, and what’s next for you?
I don’t know if I’ve felt a proudest moment just yet. I’ve had so many great moments but also challenging ones. At the moment I’m just taking the journey for what it is, and I think I’m proud to have completed a body of work with integrity that truly reflects me – maybe that is my proudest moment.
Your music is described as ‘experimental’ and ‘playful.’ How do you keep your sound fresh and innovative? Do you ever take creative risks to explore new directions?
I like to be pretty in the moment when creating and often will work shop things live. I love the happy mistakes and capturing something weird and organic in the room. I’m interested in seeing how far I can stretch the boundaries without losing the fundamental structure of pop. There’s certainly a lot of room for exploration and experimentation. I’m an independent artist. There’s no ‘keep in your lane’ mentality… yet.
