Life & Work with ZIMI of North Los Angeles

Today we’d like to introduce you to ZIMI.

Hi ZIMI, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
I’ve been connected to music for as long as I can remember. My mom likes to say I was singing before I could talk, and honestly, music was never something I questioned—it was always going to be part of my life. From a very young age, I had vivid dreams of being on stage, and now at 23, those visions haven’t changed at all. If anything, they’ve only grown stronger.

I grew up in Los Angeles, which I’m incredibly grateful for. Being raised here meant constant exposure to music, art, and creativity, and that access shaped me early on. Music was always present in my family—my mom grew up playing classical piano, my dad and his brothers were in a band together, my grandma sang in choir, and many other family members played instruments or sang as well. No one necessarily pursued music professionally, but everyone deeply loves it.
My dad, in particular, has an incredible gift. Though he doesn’t call himself a vocalist, he’s amazing at impersonations and impressions. From a very young age—and still to this day—he can hear something once and replicate it effortlessly, changing his voice completely to match what he’s hearing. I truly believe I inherited that gift from him. As a self-taught vocalist, I learned almost entirely through my ear—by listening, mimicking, and experimenting. That ability to hear something and reproduce it became the foundation of how I taught myself to sing in different styles, emotional ranges, and capacities.

My mom also loves to tell a story that perfectly captures how I learn. We’d be listening to music in the car, and I’d tell her to shush—not because I didn’t want her singing, but because I wanted to hear the song in its entirety. I’d ask her to play it again, and on the second listen, I could sing the whole song from start to finish. That’s how I learned—by listening first, then replicating. Once she realized that, she understood that singing wasn’t just something I enjoyed; it was how I processed and understood sound, and ultimately the world.

I’m deeply grateful for the support my parents gave me once they realized music was what I loved. When they saw how serious I was about it, they had a family friend who was a builder construct a miniature stage in my childhood bedroom. I had a small karaoke machine, a star painted on the wall, and a space that made my dream feel real before I even fully understood it. They believed in me early, and that belief stayed with me.

The first time I truly fell in love with being on stage in front of an audience was in a first-grade elementary school play. Once I stepped onstage, I never wanted to come off. From then on, I took every opportunity I could to perform—school performances, shows, singing whenever and wherever I could. That love of performance came before anything else.

Later on, I gained additional stage experience through a progressive church environment, it was a space where I was able to sing regularly and gain confidence on stage. It gave me valuable reps early in life, including performing in front of large audiences of hundreds and sometimes thousands of people and learning how to connect with audiences in real time. I’m grateful for the experience and what it taught me, but my relationship with music has always extended far beyond any one space or structure.

I’ve been writing songs for as long as I can remember, as well. As a kid, I’d find lyrics scribbled on loose papers tucked into drawers and corners of my room. When I got bored in school or class, I’d find myself writing songs, hundreds of them. I’d perform my songs to my parents or friends at school. Writing became my primary way of expressing myself, and I realized that connecting emotionally through music was extremely important to me. Our world lacks emotional vulnerability, though I believe it is fundamental– it has always mattered deeply to me, and I try to lead with that in my music.

When I was 14, I attended a summer camp that happened to have a recording studio, and I took full advantage of it. With the help of an engineer, I recorded three of my original songs with piano accompaniment. I never released those tracks, but it was my first experience hearing my ideas brought fully to life—and it completely changed how I saw music.

The following year, at 15, I began working with another producer in Los Angeles, which allowed me to take that curiosity even further. We created two songs together, one of which I released under my birth name, Alicia Zimmerman. That period was exciting because I finally got to see the thoughts, feelings, and emotions I carried internally turn into something external—something that could be shared and felt by other people. I got to watch over the producer’s shoulder and begin understanding production, its software, and thinking of sound beyond instrumentation. A lot of music is math and science, it’s numbers and experimentation. We had fun creating these songs, and pushed beyond what I had known before. At the same time, I became aware of a limitation: I didn’t yet have the language or technical understanding to fully articulate my vision. I knew what I wanted to hear, but I didn’t always know how to explain it. I also realized by not being in the seat itself, I don’t have full control of the ideas I want to express, and as a woman and a younger person at the time, my ideas could perhaps be compromised. I knew then I’d need to gain some more skills to communicate, articulate, and stand up for my art.

That realization stayed with me. I knew I wanted to be able to create and produce my music independently, even though I didn’t yet know how. I don’t play instruments fluently—I can get by—but whenever I start learning one, I always find myself wanting to go back to singing. Singing is where I feel most connected. That tension eventually became motivation: I wanted to bridge the gap between what I heard in my head and what existed in the world.

At 16, I was cast on The Voice. Although I was never aired, the experience itself was incredibly formative. It pushed me out of my comfort zone—singing in front of cameras, large crews, and industry executives—and challenged me in ways I hadn’t experienced before. It helped me start thinking more seriously about who I was as an artist, what made my sound specific, and how I wanted to shape my identity. That was one of the first moments where I began consciously world-building and understanding direction rather than just instinct.

As I continued growing, I realized that I didn’t just want to make music—I wanted to build worlds around it. I have synesthesia, which means I experience music visually through colors, textures, and moods. That adds a deep layer to how I create and experience sound, and it’s why visuals, feeling, and atmosphere are so important to my work. To me, music is meant to be a full sensory experience.

When it came time for college, I chose to study art and design rather than music, earning my BFA in photography and videography. I wanted to protect my relationship with music and avoid losing the passion by over-formalizing it. That visual education became essential to my artistry. During college, I realized that in order to fully bring my visions to life as an artist, I needed to bridge not just the technical gap in producing music, but also the communication gap in collaborating with others. I never wanted to feel uncertain about expressing exactly what I wanted again. So, alongside my major in photography and videography, I sought experiences that would give me a full understanding of the creative world from every angle. While in college, I took a music production class that finally gave me the tools to articulate my ideas fully and produce my own work—bridging that gap I had felt years earlier.

To this same point, I completed an internship as a live sound engineer at a renowned performing arts center, where I learned to engineer live mixes and prepare shows of all kinds—concerts, orchestras, plays, ballet performances—and handle the back-of-house operations as a stage manager and stagehand. This gave me an intimate understanding of what goes into producing a flawless performance and how to communicate effectively with technical teams.

On top of that, I explored styling, hair, and visual production, gaining insight into the challenges and workflows of creative professionals behind the camera. After college, I joined the creative team at Republic Records, assisting on music videos, cover art, social media, and other visual projects for A-list artists at the best record label in the world. These experiences allowed me to see how record labels operate and what it takes to support an artist at every stage.

Because of this, when I step on stage or into the studio, I have a complete perspective—I know how each person on the team thinks, what they’re doing, and how to collaborate clearly and respectfully. It’s given me confidence to communicate my ideas effectively, while also fostering the kind of teamwork that brings music and art fully to life.

Since graduating in 2024, I’ve released a single and two full albums, all self-produced. I’ve formed a live band and perform my original music across Los Angeles—from wine bars to venues to festivals—and I’ve also worked as a vocalist with other artists and bands. I’m endlessly grateful to be surrounded by such a strong creative community.

Living in LA while creating music in the digital age feels especially meaningful. Even though I’m based here, my music now reaches listeners in over 150 countries. I’ve also been fortunate enough to travel around the world, and experiencing music in different cultures—regardless of language—has been one of the most grounding parts of traveling. Music is energy. You feel it whether you understand the words or not.

I have a deep relationship with music as sound—energy, frequency, resonance—and I believe it has the power to heal and transform. I’m drawn to incorporating elements like sound bowls, chimes, and healing frequencies whenever it feels right. Many of my songs explore themes of femininity, ethereality, love, passion, heartbreak, transformation, self-love, and self-worth. I’m interested in blending genres like R&B, jazz, and soul specifically. The blend allows the freedom for creation to be endless and create evocative music that connects and resonates with the human experience and my audience. I’m overall known for my deep, unique, and powerfully controlled vocal performances and storytelling through lyrics and beat-making.

I’ve always believed that music is one of the few things every single person connects to in some way. Sound is the first sense we experience in the womb. It’s innate to us. Our bodies are chambers for vibration and connection, and I feel incredibly grateful to facilitate that connection through music. Some of my biggest inspirations are Erykah Badu, Amy Winehouse, Lana Del Rey, Jhene Aiko, Summer Walker, Adele, Sabrina Claudio, Cher, Etta James, John Mayer, and so many more.

My dream is to continue singing on stages with a live band, performing original music, touring, and playing festivals around the world. I love and am used to creating alone, but know that the power of multiple creators is something so powerful, beautiful, and endlessly inspiring. I’m currently working on my third album and leaning more into collaboration—bringing other people into the studio, bouncing ideas, and building community through music.

Music has always been my heart. It’s how I connect, feel, love, and experience the world—and it’s something I’ll never stop pursuing.

We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Throughout my journey as a musician, I’ve definitely faced what people might call setbacks—but I don’t see them as failures. For me, everything happens for a reason and in divine timing. When one door closes, another opens, and there’s always a lesson to be learned, even if it isn’t immediately clear. I try to approach every challenge not as a roadblock, but as a moment to grow, to reflect, and to prepare myself for the next step. Sometimes, a “setback” simply means I wasn’t ready yet—and that’s completely okay.

I feel so grateful at 23 to have built a foundation of so much knowledge about the music industry, to understand how it works, and to have clarity about the direction I want to take. I’m also incredibly thankful to be surrounded by a community of passionate, creative, like-minded people who inspire me and push me forward.

One of the most important things I’ve learned is to shift the way I think about life and work—not through the lens of failure, loss, or disappointment, but through growth, change, and acceptance. Meditation, journaling, and centering myself in the present moment have been a huge part of that. Taking the time to pause, reflect, and ground myself has allowed me to better understand how I want to move through the world, approach my art, and navigate life’s challenges. That sense of spirituality and connection to the present has transformed the way I approach every setback. I’ve learned to surrender to the reality of life, trusting that things unfold exactly as they are meant to. That mindset has transformed every challenge into an opportunity, every delay into preparation, and every closed door into a stepping stone for something better.

I believe that when we adopt this perspective, life becomes brighter, more expansive, and full of possibility. It allows you to experience gratitude even in moments that might initially feel hard or discouraging. And I hope that perspective can be something others can embrace as well—it has made everything in my own journey so much more positive and enriching. Every lesson, every experience, and every obstacle has shaped not only the artist I am today, but the person I’ve become.

For me, the road hasn’t needed to be smooth to be meaningful. It’s been full of learning, reflection, growth, and trust—and I wouldn’t trade any of it.

Let’s talk about our city – what do you love? What do you not love?
What I love most about Los Angeles is its incredible diversity—diversity in art, culture, passions, and interests. The city allows me to lean into so many different experiences because everything is so close and accessible. I find inspiration in the differences, in how people approach creativity in unique ways, and I learn so much just by being around that energy.

When I was younger, I assumed the music industry here was massive and almost impersonal. But the more people I meet every day, the more I realize how tight-knit the community really is. Musicians, artists, and creators often end up at the same shows, events, or spaces, and there’s this sense of connection, support, and shared purpose that’s really special. I love that passion is everywhere—every night, there are multiple shows, performances, and events happening, all fueled by people who care deeply about music and creative expression. At the same time, the community can feel intimate, personal, and authentic. People care about one another here when you find the right circles, and I feel so blessed to know so many incredible individuals who share that same love for music, performance, creativity, and art. That combination of energy, accessibility, and intimacy is truly what makes LA feel alive to me.

Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything I truly dislike. That said, I do recognize that LA is not perfect, and there are challenges that we still need to face as a city. While we celebrate our diversity, there’s still a lot of ostracization, exclusion, and struggle within certain communities. It’s unfortunate that the promise of inclusivity doesn’t always match the reality, and I think that’s something we as a city need to continue to work on.

I also see that there are countless people here—across every industry, not just music—who are genuinely trying to make a difference and create spaces of community, belonging, and support. My hope is that more of those efforts continue to grow and that we as a city move toward a sense of unanimous love and support for everyone. When I have conversations with people about what they want from this city, it’s striking how much we share the same vision: a world where creativity, expression, and connection are nurtured for everyone. LA has so much potential to be a city where everyone feels seen, heard, and valued—and I hope that the people here continue to take the actions necessary to make that a reality.

Even with its challenges, I feel incredibly fortunate to live here, to perform here, and to be part of this community. For me, the city’s energy, its diversity, and its passionate people make it a place where dreams can grow, where music and art are alive, and where collaboration and creativity are constantly inspiring me to reach higher.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://linktr.ee/zimimusic
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zimi.music/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@ZIMI-Music
• Other: https://www.tiktok.com/@zimimusic