Joudi Nox - Empty Boy (Single) + Interview

In the dynamic realm of pop music, Joudi Nox shines as a distinctive voice, blending infectious melodies with a profound narrative rooted in her Palestinian-Lebanese heritage. Her art serves as a platform to shed light on the complexities of displacement, engaging audiences in conversations about identity and cultural understanding.

Drawing from her family's history of forced displacement from Haifa and Akka in 1948, Joudi's journey reflects the resilience and challenges of the Palestinian cause. Despite facing hurdles, her music remains a source of solace and activism, amplifying voices often unheard in mainstream discourse. Join us as we delve into Joudi Nox's empowering journey of cultural representation and musical advocacy.

Wordplay Magazine sat down and spoke to the talented artist and songwriter, to discuss her new music and these issues:

1. Hi Joudi, thanks so much for taking the time to speak to Wordplay, do you mind introducing yourself to our readers?

Sure! Hi I’m Joudi Nox. I’m a singer-songwriter based in California…for now. I write songs about every feeling I feel.  I’m a guitarist and vocalist and I produce my own music as well.

2 - Your heritage and family history seem to play a significant role in shaping your identity as an artist. How do you navigate the complexities of your Palestinian-Lebanese background within the realm of pop music?

It was definitely a long journey of self discovery being an artist interested in writing music in English and being where I’m from. There’s this intrinsic tendency to please the West to make it as a musician. While at the same time I watch that Western world is not necessarily welcoming or being nice to people like me. You start with wanting to please your abuser to later realize you’re being abused, to then break free from them. I think as a person from a displaced Palestinian family and Lebanese minority I grew faster to realize that. I used to make pop music because that’s what musicians my age did seeking out a record deal. Now it’s more about proving the existence of my kind in the music industry.

3. Your social media content, particularly on Tiktok - seems to be about highlighting global issues, do you feel there's a lack of this with more established musicians with a bigger fanbase?

I think as artists, especially women, in the music industry we were taught to keep quiet, smile and wave. And it makes sense, we’re entertainers, no one should listen to us about global issues and politics. But maybe that was the case in the 50s. Now musicians have a much bigger influence on social media. They once in a while publicly pop out of their rabbit holes to speak about wanting to be on the right side of history but even that turned out to be more of a PR stunt than a genuine gesture. And I think that’s why a lot of people today are so angry at their favorite celebrities, because this generation values authenticity, the music industry couldn’t provide that because for more than 50 years it was all about offering a fake version of an artist for people to fall in love with. Music management had to seek out their own artists for authentic writing, content, and opinions and sent them out there without proper education. So yes, we lack authentic artists who are educated enough to talk about global issues. Unfortunately, not everyone is well informed.

4. Choosing the name Joudi Nox, partly as a Harry Potter reference, also carries deeper meaning regarding the complexities surrounding your Palestinian last name. Can you share more about the metaphorical representation of your name and how it reflects your experiences and struggles?

This falls back to the complex we all had growing up in the Middle East, which is pleasing and accommodating to the West. My last name is just like every last name from the Middle East, it’s hard to pronounce for English speaking people and that’s fair. But at the same time we were taught how to pronounce English last names as fluently as possible. Now as being a Palestinian from my father’s side I hold my Palestinian last name which is complicated even for my Lebanese friends. I felt exhausted explaining, spelling, and pronouncing it to people that I felt an “easier” last name would work. And I am very happy with my choice for “Nox” means darkness in the Harry Potter world, but I also am no longer afraid of people knowing the real one (other than maybe for personal safety reasons) and I am now aware that having a difficulty pronouncing someone’s name is not a big deal if the person is willing to later learn it and maybe educate themselves. I am actually very proud of my family name as it represents our connection to our land and heritage in Palestine.

5. Your family's history of forced displacement from Haifa and Akka in 1948 has undoubtedly shaped your narrative. How do you channel these familial experiences into your music, and what message do you hope to convey to your audience through your art?

The message I hope to convey is the same message Bisan from Gaza was and is still currently trying to represent; that we are humans just like everyone else. We feel emotions, we create art, we tell stories, and we love. I may not be able to write music about the horrible things that are happening to my people all the time, but each displaced Palestinian is different in coping. I write about the pain and collective trauma but I also got my heart broken by boys and girls just like the next girl from New York. The displacement of my family makes me more resilient to live and love and make art. I hope one day I finish writing a book about my family’s story. It’s a work in progress.

6. Being stateless with no right to return, as you've mentioned, must present unique challenges in various aspects of your life. How does this sense of displacement influence your creative process and the themes you explore in your music?

It’s a very interesting place to be in because I still have to explain my travel documents to embassies and airport employees. Not many people know that stateless Palestinians exist. I find that very funny because nobody thought what would happen to the Palestinians that were pushed out of their homes to a foreign country. For me I still struggle with where I belong because being stateless meant to me that no country wants me. I was told I’m not enough to be like the next girl from New York yet I felt the same girlhood feelings. When I make music, there’s always the feeling that no one will listen, no one will want me. I’m a half human in disguise hiding behind making music like everyone else. So in what genre do I write? Going back and forth I realized that I write in the genre of Stateless.

7. Despite the challenges you face, you find solace and purpose in your music. How do you balance the upbeat nature of pop music with the responsibility you feel to authentically represent Palestinians and Lebanese people in your career and daily life?

I certainly get criticized for doing that especially with the current war. I feel the guilt and shame internally before anyone does lol. So as my therapist taught me, I start by being kind to myself, I acknowledge the feelings I have and process them. Processing this constant battle of being a pop artist but also a human of global issues and a voice is constant. I came to the realization that if I need to help my people and post I need to afford an internet connection and a phone, and to protest peacefully I need to have housing to come from and to after the protests to be productive in the next protest. It’s a dystopian fight, I and many displaced Palestinian and Lebanese people feel every day. It’s not justification but rather acceptance of the survivor's guilt and moving on to be actually productive to the cause in many forms and not just making art. I might release an upbeat song I wrote years ago today but that doesn’t ignore my humanitarian motives that are always there.

8. Your journey serves as a testament to the power of music in bridging cultural gaps and advocating for justice. How do you see your role as an artist in challenging stereotypes and amplifying the voices of those still struggling for basic human rights?

I think the music industry tried so hard to make an artist one or the other. A pop artist that sings about young adult problems like heartbreak and love is something totally different from an artist that is always advocating for justice and thus, should always provide music about that topic. I think it’s very limiting and our generation is slowly breaking out of that rule. Artists like Aurora and Gabrielle Aplin are a great example of being a pop artist and still be an advocate for human rights and even animal rights. And since audiences now love authenticity, instead of receiving backlash, they bond better with their fanbase because the fans see them now as decent human beings as well as artists. I aim to do the same. Both roles and responsibilities go hand-in-hand for me and I don’t plan on being put in one box. My fans are my best friends so we should have the same basic values before we move forward and paint each other’s nails.

9. Looking ahead, what are your aspirations as an artist, both in terms of your musical career and your advocacy efforts for causes close to your heart, such as the Palestinian cause? How do you envision your impact evolving in the future?

In the future I hope I can be a living proof that Palestinian people can also make it in the music industry. That itself is advocacy of its own. I hold the Palestinian cause close to my heart (literally in a necklace and figuratively) forever. For now my music that is scheduled for release is pop music that will be combined into an EP at the end of the year as a continuation off of Empty Boy. This doesn’t mean there is no space for art about the cause to raise more awareness. I just have to process how I feel and write it down.

10. Name three things you can’t live without when in the studio?

In the studio I can’t live without my condenser microphone and my acoustic guitar because this is how I start almost all of my songs for production. The third thing would probably be my little notebook on the desk, not for songwriting but for chords, key analysis and writing down ideas of what I want the song to sound like eventually. If I have those alone with my laptop I’m good to make music anywhere!