Afropop Worldwide

Zena is a London-born duo composed of Kokoroko keyboardist Yohan Kebede and bassist Menelik. Informed by their shared Ethiopian heritage, they mix traditional Ethiopian sounds with an eclectic range of influences and genres, tapping into R&B and D’Angelo-esque neo-soul, with detours through Parliament Funkadelic, jazz and chill-out music. Meshing into a nebulous soundscape of tranquility, groove and rhythm, they are constantly in dialogue with their diverse origins, and provide a different view of the Ethiopian music familiar to Afropop listeners. With multiple sold-out concerts on their belt, they showcase a future-facing, rule-breaking perspective on the traditional music of their heritage, and the dynamic London sound that characterizes them. I caught up with them following the release of their first single, Anchi Bale Gamé (Brownswood Recordings), to talk about their upbringing, influences, and goals for the project.

Zena can be found on Instagram @zenaforeva

Ishaan Dasgupta: Thank you both for your time. I'm a big fan of what you've released so far—your first single—and I’m looking forward to hearing more. To start, I wanted to ask you guys to tell us a little bit about the project and the single you've released, and a bit about how you met.

Menelik: I think that we're taking the sounds we heard growing up from our parents and fusing that aspect with London. We met randomly doing a jazz gig. Yohan's bass player dropped out and I live quite near where it was. We met and were like, "You're Ethiopian." And I was like, "Yeah, we should make some music."

Nice. And how long ago was it that you met?

Two or three years ago.

It’s been a couple months into the launch now. How are you guys feeling about it so far? What's the reception been like?

Yohan: It's been really nice. It's all been a bit unexpected. Not that I didn't think people were going to like it, but it's all been very quick. We've had, I think, four headline gigs and they've all been sold out. These were all before any music came out. So this has all been a good surprise.

These are nice problems to have. You're keeping busy, so I'm happy for you guys. What inspired you to make this project? Why did you feel like now was the right time to get the ball rolling?

Menelik: I feel like it came more out of us meeting up to jam cover songs. Eventually, we started accidentally writing music. We'd be like, "Oh, what if we took this bit and did that?" At a certain point, we felt we should actually focus our energy into creating something.

So it evolved from random meets into a serious project?

Yeah, because I think we get to actually be able to play and explore. We're both not super deeply trained in a school way about Ethiopian music, but we discovered how we wanted to play it as we were diving deeper into the music and trying to inform ourselves. We're super familiar with it as a sound and the songs, but I think that was where it started: "How do you play that on a keyboard? How can I play that on a bass?"

How has that process been? Learning how to play what you've been listening to all your life—is it quite difficult?

Yohan: It can be, definitely. Both of us have learned Western music on our instruments, and the music we're playing isn't Western. A lot of those lines weren't made to be played on a keyboard. They were made to be plucked on a five-string instrument or sung by somebody who isn't singing Western music. It's difficult at times to put that into a space where we are paying tribute to it, but also putting it in a space where someone who knows nothing about it can access it.

That touches on a great point. The Zena project is presenting a redefinition and a reimagination of Ethiopian music for people who might not be familiar with it. You're seeking to disrupt and reframe, but also pay homage to what came before you. How do you balance keeping it modern while also paying respect?

I think we're definitely conscious of it. I feel like because of the way both of us have been raised, obviously there's naturally parts of our culture that the rest of the world don't necessarily get to see.

It’s kind of kept that way on purpose. For example, the riskier, sexier sides of the music and the culture aren't necessarily pushed forward as much as the spiritual side. It’s quite a conservative and reserved culture in Ethiopia, but for me and Menelik, it’s some of our funnest memories. When people think of Ethiopia, they think: "They love coffee, never been colonized, super deep and spiritual." But no one knows how much Ethiopian people love whiskey! It's such a big thing, but no one knows it. I think what we're trying to do with music is the musical equivalent to that fact.

You're making whiskey music. Nice.

Yeah, it's that side. The uncles in the corner drinking all the whiskey.

I'm of Indian origin and I think Ethiopian uncles and Indian uncles are quite similar—always drinking whiskey and debating in the corner. So it’s reframing in the sense of exploring the fun, danceable and joyous side?

Menelik: Partly, I think yes. It’s not that we’re explicitly on a mission to do that, but I feel like as a representation of our personalities, that’s what we’ve come to do.

Sonically, the project has a strong Ethiopian current, but it's also quite eclectic. What else has informed this project?

I feel like we spent a lot of time listening to Shuggie Otis and Hendrix along with D'Angelo and that ‘90s neo-soul sound. Especially with Shuggie Otis, there's such a cohesive style, but he also draws from every genre. He's not really doing the same thing, but you put the song on and you're like, "Oh, that sounds like that guy." We also wanted to draw on Parliament Funkadelic, and of course the London jazz lineage that we’re part of too.

Of course, you both have a wealth of past projects, such as Kokoroko and Mother of Earth to name a couple. How have those experiences shaped what you're trying to bring into this project?

Yohan: Kokoroko started in 2015 and I joined in 2017, so I've seen 90% of the journey. We started off playing Fela Kuti and Pat Thomas covers; it was very much Afrobeat and Highlife. With our last album, Tuff Times Never Last, I’ve seen how you can start off with the root and over time walk people into where you're trying to go. I think it’s possible to see that people's ears can go on that journey. I've learned how to build a project, start one, drive it forward, and keep it fun.

With Zena, is this the beginning of a journey, or are you more saying, “Ok, now I know how to give a fully fleshed-out idea of where I want to be?”

I think we're definitely at the beginning. It's more like I see that this can work. The whole record is not out yet, but we have a "Tezeta" on there, which is a traditional Ethiopian song form. It's important for people to see where we're coming from. The first single we're going to release is a very traditional rhythm. We’ve only made one record together as musicians, so we're still figuring out our process and seeing how people respond—what they dance to and what they don't.

What is the dynamic like in the studio? Who does what?

Menelik: We take it in shifts. I feel like we like to waffle, basically. We spend ages talking about something and then realize we both agree with each other, then go and make something. We're both perfectionists where we'll just sit there until it's right. It's one of those times where one person's falling asleep, the other person works, then you wake up and say, "Oh bro, let me listen to it." Then that person passes out and you take over. It’s like a relay race.

From what I’ve seen from interviews with Kokoroko, and you guys talking about this idea of “Ethopian-ness,” it seems that there is this concept of identity in your work. This is very present for second-gen immigrants, and especially people of color. How do you want to represent these notions with this project?

Yohan: Being born in the UK, somewhere your parents aren't from, there’s the age-old adage, you're in this liminal space between these two places. It comes beautifully through when it comes to art. The music is just a manifestation of that identity.

You have Ethiopian musicians making traditional music, and you have Ethiopian musicians from the diaspora making Western music—maybe sampling some of the traditional stuff at most. But we've both been asking: are there any other examples of people who have grown up here with Garage, Jungle and R&B and literally put that together with the music of our parents? It's a document. In 50 years, they'll be like, "Okay, this first generation of Ethiopians born en masse outside of the country—this is what they sounded like."

Is there a sense of responsibility or duty with that, or are you just having fun?

I'm just having fun, personally.

I recently spoke to another second-gen artist who expressed annoyance over everything being "boiled down to identity." Do you think we talk too much about these labels—diaspora identity, immigrant identity—or is it still an important thing to discuss?

Menelik: I feel like these things exist anyway and this is how you're being classified. It's more that we're raising awareness to what systems exist. The moment someone hears "Ethiopian music," that's already factored into their initial perception. It is part of the music we made, so it's valid to highlight it. I understand that the "outsider gaze"—trying to just write a quick caption of what it is rather than engaging with the art—can be frustrating.

So, what's coming up for you guys?

Yohan: We have a first EP announcement coming pretty soon—it will come out in March. We'll have a couple of singles out before that and a video. We're also playing our first ever show in Ethiopia, which will be sick. I'm really excited and nervous about that one. Then next summer, I think we're playing Brooklyn Jazz Festival and Across the Tracks.

You mentioned you're nervous about playing in Ethiopia. How do you think it will go down?

I think they'll like it, but it hits them differently. Part of the task of this music is trying to figure out how to make it accessible to the other 90% of the world, but there's still a solid 10% over there who know exactly what this music is and where it comes from. They have a totally different relationship with it. When the eskista rhythm drops for them, it's not as much of a surprise as it is for other people. They're going to find different ways to connect with it. I think they'll like it.

Can you talk about the aesthetics of the project? What's the influence behind the presentation, the videos and the cover art?

Menelik: We draw heavily from the strong cassette culture in Ethiopian music. It was the medium of choice at the time; it was easy to duplicate and share. The artwork on them is quirky—you would never think to put those two things together. Yohan also has a very keen eye for fashion and draws from other influences as well.

Yohan: We weren't afraid to be quirky with the backgrounds. When people see a bunch of Nigerian guys holding instruments, they say, "Okay, cool, you're a Nigerian band." Same with Ethiopia. They're going to look at us and see an Ethiopian project, but we are just as British as we are Ethiopian. In the way we present ourselves—the album cover and the way we dress on stage—it's really important to reflect that. We're both young and from London. I'm really into fashion and streetwear. That stuff is important to represent if we're going to make young people feel like they can relate to what we're doing.

What are you guys listening to right now? What would you recommend?

Yohan: For me, I would say Nourished By Time. The album came out this summer called Erotic Probiotic 2. It's my favorite album of the whole year. It's indie-ish but soulful, like Prince.

Menelik: I've been listening to TNT by Tortoise a lot recently. It's a great album from the 90s. It’s post-rock, but they use a lot of synths and great beats. It's like if Ennio Morricone and Four Tet existed together. You put the whole album on, close your eyes, and just be like, "What the fuck?" It’s perfect.

Guys, thank you so much. I really appreciate your time. All the best for 2026 and beyond.