Now you’re based in Dublin, do you find that you pull inspiration from your surroundings and the scenes in Ireland?
Absolutely. Dublin has had a huge influence on me, not just musically, but in terms of the people, the energy, and the sense of community. There’s a rawness to the city that I really connect with. It’s not polished, but there’s so much drive and heart, and that comes through in the music scene too. You have to remember that Dublin is tiny, so the fact that so many people are doing amazing things here is even more impressive, and it just seems to keep getting better. It’s very collaborative — everyone’s helping each other out in some way, whether it’s running community-based parties or supporting each other’s projects to get things off the ground.
I always hoped I’d get to a place where I could plant my feet and run my own thing here. Thankfully, I’ve managed to do that, and now I can use my platform to put on nights that showcase newcomers, while also bringing over artists that I love and respect. That’s what Klub Sukar is all about — a dancefloor-focused extension of Sukar, where I can celebrate SWANA sounds while also giving space to both local and international talent.
Building something from the ground up has meant I can give people here a window into the sounds I’m passionate about, while also creating opportunities for others. That sense of freedom and support has been key, and being surrounded by people who are passionate and constantly grafting, whether it’s in Tengu, Hen’s Teeth, or other spaces, keeps me constantly inspired.
How does your dual heritage drive your sound, and the messages of liberation that you embed into it?
My dual heritage is at the heart of everything I do. Growing up between Irish and Arab identities, I often felt like I had to hide one side of myself, especially my Arab background. The image of Arabs I grew up seeing in Western media was so distorted, whether it was in films, cartoons, news headlines — it was always negative, violent, or just a lazy stereotype. That takes a toll on you when you’re a kid. You start to internalise that shame, and it distances you from your own roots when you live in a western country.
For me, music became the way to unlearn all of that — to rewrite that narrative, not just for myself, but for others too. It became a space where both sides of who I am could exist together fully and proudly. I could sample Arabic records, bring in Irish influences, layer in club sounds from across the world, and it all made sense. It felt honest. It felt like freedom.
Making space for Arab identity in club music is about reclaiming visibility, showing that we belong here, not as a sample or an aesthetic, but as the voice behind the decks. Especially when our identity is so often misunderstood or misrepresented, just being present and unapologetically ourselves carries weight. Embedding those messages — whether through samples, names, scents, or stories — is my way of pushing back. I want my music to help reshape that deeply damaging image, and if it helps even one person feel seen, or more connected to their own heritage, then that’s everything to me.
You’re actively platforming voices and musicians from around the Middle East through your music, is there anyone we should be keeping an eye on right now?
There’s so much talent right now, and it’s been amazing to see more artists owning their sound. A few people I’ve been loving lately are Yasmeen Selectress, Nora Moon, DJ Karmawi, Ebla, Leila Moon, Misty, Chamos, Cheb Runner, Glitter 55, Rami Imam, Pablo Santos, Sahana, Tara Kumar, Ambient Babestation Meltdown, and Sami Galbi — each of them bringing something fresh, whether it’s through their selections, production, or the spaces they’re creating.
I also want to shout out the Shimmer DJs crew here in Dublin, they’ve been doing great things and building such an important energy in the scene.
I’m always on the lookout for new talent, especially here in Ireland, so please don’t hesitate to reach out. I’d genuinely love to hear from you.
As an activist for the people of Palestine, what do you think the music industry could be doing to make a change in light of its current bombardment?
I think the industry needs to stop sitting on the fence. What’s happening in Palestine isn’t complicated, it’s a brutal, ongoing military occupation and ethnic cleansing. It’s just pure horror unfolding in front of us with no accountability, and not enough action from governments by far. The music industry is usually quick to speak out against injustice, but when it comes to Palestine, the silence, or the fear of “getting it wrong”, ends up being complicity. Silence is complicity.
As an example, someone sent me a track, and certain phrasing in the press release rang alarm bells for me. I asked: ‘Are you pro-Palestine?’. The answer was too vague, and that was enough. Because who we platform, book, and repost all adds up.
I have two kids. Seeing videos of children who look like mine, crying out “baba” — it breaks something in you. That’s why I’ll keep using my sets, my platform, and my voice, because I’ve been watching this injustice since I was ten years old. I’m terrified that by the time there’s a global realisation, it might be too fucking late. Staying neutral in times like this isn’t neutral at all — it’s a choice.
What’s next for you?
Gig-wise, I’m excited to keep the momentum going with Sukar and Klub Sukar. Both have really grown into something special, and that’s what excites me most: building something with community at its heart. Sukar is the broader project, it’s more than just a party, it brings together SWANA music, art, and food under one roof. Klub Sukar, on the other hand, is purely dancefloor-focused.
If you don’t know Klub Sukar yet, we’ve got Nooriyah coming over for her Tengu debut on April 19, alongside some serious local talent. That one’s shaping up to be proper. The next Sukar event is happening June 7 at Hen’s Teeth — I can’t wait to bring it back to that space.
Festival season’s also around the corner, and I’m buzzing for that. There’s loads of great shows coming up and I’m ready to bring the energy.
On the music side, I’ve got a new remix on the way for the duo Tales and Ahlam, and I’m really excited about that one. Beyond that, I’ve been slowly working on an album. No idea when it’ll come out, but it’s something that’s been building over the course of nearly ten years. It feels like the right time to start pulling those pieces together.
Can you tell us about your mix?
Over the years, I’ve fallen in love with so many tracks that honestly, I’m probably more sad about the ones I couldn’t fit in. But I really wanted this mix to represent as much of my musical world as possible, it’s a journey through the different sounds I love and play. It pulls together favourites from gigs I’ve done over the last few years, with a particular tone inspired by a really bananas back-to-back I did with two humble humans, Joy Anonymous. I generally love B2Bs, but usually you know the person you’re playing with or at least have a sense of their energy. I’m not gonna lie, I had no idea what was going to happen with this one. That organic energy really lit something up in me and brought out tunes I’d forgotten I even had.
I think for a while, there was an assumption about what I play in my sets, but the truth is, my sets change all the time. Every party has its own energy, its own crowd, and there’s just so much music out there that deserves to be heard. This mix was my way of showing that range, from emotional and unexpected moments to heavier club gear.
I love blending tracks you wouldn’t expect to go together, and I’ve always seen the dancefloor as something that moves like a wave — it builds, dips, swells again. It can’t just be bangers all night, even as a punter, I don’t have the energy for two straight hours of going full tilt. With any live set, I’m reading the room constantly, feeling things out, and adjusting as I go. This mix mirrors that same mindset: moving through genres, testing out ideas, and adapting.
I ended the mix with a track from my childhood, a song that’s taken on a new meaning over the years and now reminds me of my family, and the love I have for them. It felt right to close on something that holds that kind of weight. A quiet moment to bring it all home.
‘Close To The Shams’ is out now, buy it here
Gemma Ross is Mixmag’s Associate Digital Editor, follow her on Twitter
- Source: NEWHD MEDIA
