Layal Fights Back Against Contradiction on Bold New Single ‘Fanana’

In a time when the world feels increasingly fractured, London-based Egyptian artist Layal is using her voice and her art as resistance. Her latest single, Fanana, is a genre-defying neo-soul and Egyptian folk fusion that serves as both a personal declaration and a wake-up call to listeners everywhere.

From the opening line, translated from Spanish as “the more I know the less I feel in charge,” Fanana makes its intentions clear. This isn’t background music; it’s a confrontation. Layal wastes no time diving into the unsettling state of the world and the complicated reality of existing as a woman within it. Instead of collapsing under the weight of it all, she chooses art as her form of survival, painting her truths in sound and lyric.

“The values you recall are the architects of your fall,” she sings in the chorus, a striking reminder that many of the cultural norms and values we inherit might actually be the very structures keeping us unhappy and controlled. It’s the kind of line that stops you mid-listen, forcing you to question not just the system around you, but yourself within it.

But Fanana isn’t all grief and reckoning; it’s also empowerment. In the second chorus, Layal sharpens her heavy eyeliner like a sword, gearing up for the storm ahead. It’s imagery that blends beauty with battle, showing resilience as both ritual and rebellion. By the song’s close, she emerges victorious, scarred but alive, authentic, and free.

Layal’s artistry doesn’t fit into tidy boxes. Rooted in the sounds of Cairo but expanded by the cultural crosscurrents of London and beyond, her music is instinctive, intentional, and unafraid of contradiction. She’s already graced stages at Wireless and Latitude, with support from BBC Introducing, Balamii, and Foundation.fm, but Fanana feels like a line in the sand, her boldest statement yet. Reflecting on the release, Layal explains:

“We’re definitely living in a very contradictory time. There’s so much to be happy and grateful for, yet so much grief and darkness. It’s important to be kind to ourselves. It’s not a linear journey at all.”

With Fanana, Layal doesn’t just give us a song; she gives us an anthem for navigating contradiction, a sonic mirror for a generation caught between gratitude and grief, fear and freedom.

Fanana feels like both a personal reflection and a social critique. When you were writing it, did you see it more as a diary entry or as a message to the world?

I definitely saw it as a message to the world. As a writer, you want your words to impact people in a good way or make people feel seen, and I find that music facilitates that connection with others. There's no doubt we have all been going through a storm collectively in the last few years, and it's no surprise that we are affected by it deeply. 

Ultimately, these thoughts stem from my personal diary, conversations with others, and my surroundings. Truthfully, politics has become a part of everyone's conversation now, and it intertwines with our personal lives, so it's hard to talk about one without the other.

The chorus line, "The values you recall are the architects of your fall", hits hard. What specific values or norms were you challenging when you wrote that lyric?

I was thinking of the ideas we believed growing up, where we all had to be like cookie cutters in the hopes of achieving happiness at the end, but that takes away from understanding your authentic self, the self has its own identity before any influences from the media, culture, and society. I believe it's so important to chase what you desire; living someone else's dreams doesn't mean ultimate happiness. You always end up with a missing piece of the puzzle.

Your use of imagery, like sharpening eyeliner into a sword, is so striking. How do you balance metaphor with honesty when you write?

I have become a method actor over time. I let my life pour into my music and vice versa. When I'm writing, I'm taking inspiration from my identity and interests, and I exaggerate it and then try to live up to it, and it's such a joyful process. I get to make my music, and as a result, my music defines me. 

It's crazy to me how I could write something, and by the time the song is out, I'll listen to it and it will inspire me in a completely different way. In a way, it feels like a continuous rebirth of the words I felt.

You've performed at Wireless and Latitude, and your sound blends neo-soul with Egyptian folk. How has your identity and cultural background shaped the way you approach live performance?

Oh, it has completely shaped me, and of course, it has, because it's what I grew up around and what I got so familiar with. It feels like home to me because it is. I can't imagine making music that isn't influenced by Egypt. I believe we have such beautiful sounds & instruments across the SWANA region, it's infectious! Even our language can describe things so beautifully that I wouldn't be able to translate it into English and have the same weight behind it. 

I'm so happy to see the music scene thriving in our region; it's truly inspiring. I look at other people who look like me or come from the same place, make it to places I've dreamt of since I was a kid, and even in new ways that I hadn't even imagined, which in return inspires me so much. It feels like it gives me the space and courage to explore and dig deeper with my sound, and that's the effect of representation, I guess! I feel so grateful to be an Arab artist in this period.

You've said we're living in a very contradictory time. What does resilience look like for you personally, and how do you think music can help people navigate that contradiction?

Resilience to me looks like going through hardships and coming out stronger and wiser. Always looking at the lessons learned and not the losses. I believe everything happens in a certain order for a reason, and I try to learn and see the positive in every situation I'm facing. Music triggers something in people and maybe helps them express things they didn't know how to articulate or even address before, and I think music really does help people.