To view Turunesh simply as a singer is to miss the rich tapestry of her artistic evolution. At just 24 years old, she stands as a visionary in the Neo-Afro soul music scene—a poet transformed into a songstress whose innovative soundscapes are reshaping the genre.
Hailing from East Africa, Turunesh began her journey with the written word, but it was through cover songs that her voice truly emerged, igniting a passion for music that seamlessly blends with her literary talents.
Influenced by cultural icons such as Fela Kuti, Elliot Smith, and Salif Keita, she crafts a distinctive sound characterized by her smooth vocals, ethereal layers, and a vibrant infusion of her cultural roots. Recently, we sat down with her to learn more about her new album, where the essence of soul intertwines with storytelling in a captivating harmony.
Can you tell us about the inspiration behind your new album, Nesha’s Cypher?
I believe what inspired this album was my need for self-discovery, grounding, and healing. While futurism is a major theme, I wanted to create a timeless body of work. To achieve that, you need to connect deeply and genuinely with your listener, and for that to happen, you need to be deeply connected with yourself.
I was at odds with the internet, love, and music because I wasn’t at peace with myself. Making this album was the necessary conversation I needed to have with myself about my anxieties, which were also causing me to have a bad case of writer's block. I turned that anxiety into my inspiration, and I wrote and visually directed the album in a way that called out my own implicitness in it. Once I found that loophole, I couldn't stop making music; it went from being so inaccessible to pouring out of me.
Loss is a big theme in the album—loss to a device, to love, and sometimes, in a beautiful way, losing yourself in a moment of extreme bliss. I wanted to find a way back to myself, and Nesha’s Cypher was the code and path to that self-discovery. Sonically, the album is inspired by artists like Cesaria Evora and Sade. I think that’s really evident when you listen to Swahili Sonnets.
What I pulled from their work is the ability to make a slow and delicate song feel immense and to use sound to evoke imagery. Cesaria's music is Cape Verdean, and my track is distinctly Tanzanian, but she taught me how to make a song sound like it was birthed on an island, even if you don’t understand the language and are hearing that kind of music for the first time, evoking a coastal essence in a way that can be universally understood.
Vocally and melodically, soaking in Sade’s music trained me in balancing softness and strength in my performance, and in using instruments to create a larger-than-life feeling while also bringing stillness. Their productions are heavy with live instrumentation, and I believe that’s what makes them so timeless. That inspired me to push my process even further and incorporate my live band into the making of this project. It’s distinctly more musical than my previous projects, and that’s what I was striving for.
How did you come up with the idea to blend soul, love, and futuristic elements in your music?
It was a very natural outcome of being an individual in this era. When you think about where we are with technological advancements and how central they’ve become—not just to how we function as a society in an industrial sense but also to our psyches, how we see ourselves, and how and whom we love—it’s an addiction to some and empowering to others. It’s dystopian, sometimes scary, and sometimes cool.
I became fascinated by the intersection of the organic and the digital. I’ll always be grounded in soul as a musician, so the idea of blending that with futurism was to reflect how digitized our humanity is becoming and to express that beautifully through my passion for creative direction and sound production
What personal experiences influenced the themes of love, loss, and self-transformation in this album?
I believe I speak for everyone when I say that I have nearly lost my mind due to the cognitive dissonance between the version of myself online and who I truly am. That disconnect can be so damning. Shortly after I stepped away from the stage to clear my mind for this project, I experienced a month-long panic attack.
The thought of not presenting a busy, chaotic, on-the-move, working, and performing reality online, as I had been, made me feel sick. It was as though I believed it truly meant my existence was obsolete. I was also at a point where social media played a pivotal role in my social and love life, which I feel is common for all of us today. But one day, I just found it ridiculous.
It was around this time that I wrote Tamagotchi, which is about wanting someone to be in your back pocket, held captive by unending access. ControlS! is quite literally a plea to an ex lover to not be removed from their devices, because that’s like a small death. It’s silly but so real—these digital spaces make people’s real lives and memories feel disposable. Digitally induced love, whether it’s romance or self-admiration from vanity metrics, and the consequences of suffering real loss of the self influenced some of the songs.
I lost my father a few years ago, and I still haven’t been able to articulate that loss in my music. I think I need to come to terms with and accept that grief before I can access it, but through Swahili Sonnets, I found another way—not to write about him but for him. My dad was a big music head, and it’s why I'm creative.
Growing up, rides in his car and time spent at home were always centered around music. He loved a wide array of genres, but world music was what truly captured his heart—artists like Bi Kidude, Remmy Ongala, Cesária Évora, and Ali Farka Touré were his favorites. I wanted to create a song that I truly believe he would love. It’s a love letter to Zanzibar, but really, it’s a love letter to him.
How do you incorporate advanced digital sounds into your music while maintaining a soulful vibe?
It’s all about balance. I use live instrumentation like drums, live saxophone, guitar, and my vocals to ground the music in a soulful vibe. Then, I layer digital elements—glitchy synths, futuristic effects, and reverb treatments—to give it a sense of otherworldliness. The goal is to make listeners feel like they’re moving between dimensions, where the past meets the future through sound.
I was aiming for an 'earthy futurism' feel. I looked to artists like Erykah Badu for inspiration on how to achieve this. I wouldn’t have been able to create that sound without my incredible band—Chris Couto, Anthony Anderson, and Paco Ha—and producers Cherry Blu, Isaiah Dobbs, and Eros Taylor.
What was the creative process like for this album, and how did it differ from your previous work?
This project was a departure from my previous work in terms of its scope and level of experimentation. I focused heavily on live instrumentation to bring an organic quality while also diving deeper into digital production techniques.
I collaborated more closely with my producers than ever before and stepped into the role of producer myself for the first time. Additionally, I worked closely with my VFX team, Lighthouse FX, during the CGI and 3D visualization phases—both new mediums for me—to ensure the album’s visuals were as immersive as the music.
Can you share more about the visual inspiration from virtual realities that you mentioned?
Tamagotchi drew direct inspiration from the virtual reality pet game, both lyrically and visually. We are, quite literally, the Tamagotchis of today. Growing up, I had two of them, and looking back, the codependency was extreme and funny—but what's scary is how we've managed to overcome them. ControlS! plays on a more cutting-edge platform, like our mobile phones and computers.
Virgin Denim is inspired by a pair of my mom's jeans that I now own, which are older than I am. In our shoot, we wore denim, but my stylist reworked the fabric to give it a futuristic look, capturing the passage of time. The song looks back on a childhood first love and wishes that things could still be that simple.
BackFat’s artwork is a 3D sculpture designed to evoke the feeling of being trapped in a moment—essentially in a tight memory chokehold. Living in the present while being a slave to the past feels like what a sculpture would articulate if it could speak.
My aim was to create something that appears both old and new, perfectly encapsulating the concept and the essence of the song. The goal is for the visuals to feel immersive, as if the viewer is stepping into my emotional and digital universe simultaneously. I admire how Sevdaliza achieves this effect, and I sought to explore it in a way that is unique to my voice and creativity.
How do you hope listeners will connect with *Nesha’s Cypher* on a personal level?
I hope listeners feel seen and heard through the album. Whether they’re navigating love, loss, or finding themselves, I want them to experience the emotional spectrum I’ve captured. Nesha’s Cypher is about connecting across dimensions—emotionally, digitally, and spiritually—and my wish is that people feel a sense of peace, closure, and at home in their own stories and lives.
What challenges did you face while producing this album, and how did you overcome them?
One of the biggest challenges was merging soul and live instrumentation with futuristic soundscapes without losing my sound and the emotional depth I wanted to convey in the beats. It was a process of trial and error, especially with Virgin Denim, to fine-tune the balance until both elements felt harmonious.
Collaborating with my team to achieve the visual elements was also a new challenge, especially making sure that every aspect aligned with the storytelling of the album. As an independent artist, resources are always a challenge, but where there is a will there's a way, and I definitely had to make this album into existence.
How do you see your music evolving in the future, and what can fans expect next?
I see my music continuing to explore the relationship between the organic and the digital. As I evolve, I want to deepen my storytelling through more immersive experiences—bringing in VR performances, AR interactive visuals, and expanding the digital universe I’ve started building with Nesha’s Cypher.
I also want to delve deeper into world music, Fatoumata Diawara and Salif Keita are huge inspirations for me, I want to achieve what they’ve been able to do for Malian music for Tanzanian music. I’d love to reimagine Swahili Jazz, Highlife, and Ngoma music while still maintaining while also staying true to my sound. Fans can expect the next projects to push boundaries even further, sonically and visually.
What message do you want to convey to your audience through this album?
The message of Nesha’s Cypher is about embracing the cycles of love, loss, and self-transformation while understanding that these moments are not isolated—they are connected and shape who we become. I aim to communicate that the beauty of life and love is found in the evolution of self, even when it feels fragmented or uncertain.
I want to show the duality of heritage and futurism, and invite my audience to find harmony between their roots and the new versions of themselves they are creating. I hope the album holds space for every part of their journey and that they find meaning in both the highs and lows.
Ultimately, it’s a call to honor our own stories and see our lives as intricate, multi-dimensional tapestries that are always unfolding. Nesha’s cypher is a sonic and visual archive of growth to remind us that while we often seek connection with others, the most important relationship is the one we have with ourselves.
By Ekow Barnes
