Today we’d like to introduce you to Malayka.
Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
I grew up in Cairo, Egypt. I’ve been singing as long as I can remember. I was a naturally loud little girl, and it was all I wanted to do and it was how I connected to myself and to people. Growing up as a girl in the Middle East meant there were a lot of rules about how you should act and a lot of rigidity in how you got to express yourself, so performing was my escape and how I felt free. I was accepted to compete in music competitions in Greece, Italy, and Germany when I was in school. I never really considered music as a valid path for me until much later. It always felt like something I was getting away with doing until I had to decide what I was “really going to do.” Plus, there was a lot of religious and cultural stigma against being an artist.
In my teens is when the Arab Spring happened, where multiple Middle Eastern countries protested against their long-standing regimes. Egypt underwent the same process. I was in the main square when our president of 30 years stepped down. Soon after, safety concerns arose in the country, and it became increasingly complicated to live there, so my family managed to move to Canada in 2011, shortly following the revolution. It was a culture shock for me, and I didn’t want to leave my family or my friends.
Eventually I was able to find a bit of a groove there until The Voice had me fly back to the Middle East in 2019 to compete. It was one of the most identity-affirming experiences of my life. Up until then, because of feeling estranged in Canada as an immigrant, I had told myself (and others) that I was Canadian, and when they’d ask me where I was from, I’d say Canada. Because of my binging of Cartoon Network as a kid and copying the voices I heard, I practically had no accent, so I could get away with it. I didn’t want to feel like an outsider.
But when I was competing in The Voice amongst many other young Middle Eastern musicians, whom I strongly identified with and who made me feel so welcome, it awakened a renewed sense of pride in who I was and where I came from. I became more playful and eclectic with my music choices and with life in general. Suddenly, being a musician and being Middle Eastern didn’t feel so separate to me, and in fact, it felt like they cyclically enhanced each other.
It became more honest and natural for me to live as my true self, as someone who didn’t have to choose. So, from that point on, things started to sort of…” happen.” I opened for many artists I loved and admired, I began writing and working with them, and even during the pandemic when all my performances were canceled, I built a business performing music online on Twitch, and that online community of supporters were the reason I was able to afford to make the – very minimally – planned moved to Los Angeles in 2023.
Honestly, the first year I was here, I felt like I was surviving. I pretty much spent the year serving at a restaurant, trying to make rent, and writing music. I thought I was wasting time and that I left my family, my partner, and my life in Toronto for nothing. But in the past few weeks, it feels like all of it has begun coming to fruition. I performed for the cast of Futurama (one of my favorite shows ever), did my sold-out debut LA show with all the music I’ve been writing, signed a distribution deal with my music, and performed at Coachella with one of my favorite artists (Saint Levant).
Above all that, the most valuable thing I found in LA is a community of creative people who are just excited to make stuff. That has me feeling so excited and energized, and inspired, and I can’t seem to stay still anymore. I think that’s the very unique thing about this city. Everyone is always creating cool stuff, and you can’t help but get infected by that. I hope this trajectory continues because I would love to see where it takes me!
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
Definitely not smooth at all. I fought against a lot of currents just to be able to continue doing this and continue being creative. From nasty gossipy aunties and shaming members of my community as a kid telling my mom she should put a stop to “all the music nonsense” to being dropped in a country where no one knows you and suddenly realizing you’re no longer just “you,” but now considered an “immigrant,” even though you have perfect English, to a pandemic threatening the structure of your entire industry, to really just scraping by on your own in LA. Sometimes it feels like it took me a long time to get here and that I should have somehow arrived sooner, but every detour makes me more grateful for every mile traveled.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I’m mainly an artist/performer/songwriter; I also act and voice act. I specialize in fusion RnB and Pop music with a dash of Hip Hop. I’d say I’m mostly known for mashing English and Arabic because I don’t have an accent in either language, and people discovered me thanks to my participation in the Voice. I’m really grateful for that experience because it opened a lot of doors for me.
I think what sets me apart from others is the vibe I’m selling. A lot of artists put forward this mysterious, sensual, or tough attitude, which makes them very cool. I couldn’t be cool or mysterious if my life depended on it (and trust me, I’ve tried). I’m just too enthusiastic and excited about everything, which I used to feel insecure about because I just wanted to be cool. I think the benefit to being that way is that whenever I’m doing a show, I’m fully present and I’m just so grateful to be able to be there doing what I’m doing, and people pick up on it. It’s a really vulnerable thing because I’m not really selling a persona, I’m just selling me, with all my insecurities and quirks and little mistakes. It makes people feel like they’re there WITH me rather than there WATCHING me. I think it makes for a more wholesome experience because it encourages them to be present and playful, too.
We’re always looking for the lessons that can be learned in any situation, including tragic ones like the Covid-19 crisis. Are there any lessons you’ve learned that you can share?
Invest in your online presence!!!
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/malaykamusic/?hl=en
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCyzZbaziYN78Jluv_bHYK8Q
- Other: https://www.twitch.tv/malaykamusic
Image Credits
Karla Haddad
Joseph Sitt
