With the warm waves of the Mediterranean sea lapping at grizzled shores, Akka stands as one of the world’s oldest cities—weathered yet full of character. It is here, in this quaint coastal town, that Lina Makoul finds her muse. The Palestinian singer, hard to ignore in her micro-fringe, edgy jewellery, and unmistakable presence, channels the pulse of her people into music formed by the experiences around identity, resistance, and the quiet defiance of everyday life under occupation. In a career spanning more than a decade, Lina has overcome more than her fair share of roadblocks, from legal battles with a former label to the complexity of creating as an artist under occupation. She speaks to Cosmopolitan Middle East about art as a weapon for survival, the alchemy that takes a hum to an EP, and the emotional terrain that fuels her work.
CosmoME: How has your Palestinian heritage shaped your sound and the stories you tell through your music?
Lina: My music reflects how I perceive myself, my community, and the responsibility I carry as an artist. It naturally carries the layers of my daily life as a Palestinian, a woman, a human, and someone navigating a layered and some may say complex reality. But it also speaks to the path I’ve had to carve for myself. It’s not only about the “what” and “why” that many artists face; for me, it’s also deeply about the “how.” That “how” is shaped by collective values, the need to document and to survive through creating, despite everything.
CosmoME: What do you hope listeners feel or take away when they hear your music?
Lina: I hope it rewires something in their brain. Makes them ask questions. Dig deeper within themselves or the internet. To make them feel something layered rather than fun or flat.
CosmoME: What inspired you to pursue music, and was there a specific moment or song that made you realise this was what you needed to do?
Lina: Honestly, it was always there. Since I was four, I have been composing, playing instruments, writing, directing, dancing, choreographing, performing, and styling my siblings and friends. All of it has always been part of my identity. But I never imagined it could become my actual career and source of income. Growing up, the path was super clear: graduate high school and pursue higher education. Education is our “weapon,” our only type of security. I didn’t realise until later that my creativity could also be a form of survival, expression, and contribution, and obviously, income.
CosmoME: Can you walk us through your creative process?
Lina: All my songs start with a feeling urging to be released or told out loud. If I can’t name the feeling, I go in my music zone until it translates to something. If I need to set myself free from a specific feeling, it turns into a message or a confession. When I’m really hurt or sad, I find a piano. Lyrics and melodies arrive together in the first hour. When I’m spiralling, I draw until I can cry, and then I write just lyrics without melody. When I’m confused, I hum until something clicks. When I’m joyful and want to capture a moment, I come up with hook lines. I’ll usually be away from my phone, so I’ll keep repeating the hook until I get to my phone and record it. If an idea keeps returning to me whilst I’m living my life (showering, driving, working out, etc), then I know it’s meant to be taken to the studio. I don’t believe in creating just to create. My process is very intentional. I’m just a transmuter.
CosmoME: Your look is distinctly femme fatale meets punk—dark, bold, unapologetic. How does your visual aesthetic reflect your music or art? Any go-to products?
Lina: Hahaha I love this description. Thank you for organising my head around it because I struggle defining what my style is and I feel like you’re spot on. My core values are honesty and alignment. I try to make decisions where my gut, heart, and mind are in harmony. It’s not an easy lifestyle, but I need a challenge to know I’m evolving. I love fashion, and I mainly love artists. My go-to products are independent Arab designers, entrepreneurs, and brands. The joy of getting your wallet or phone out and paying for something well-crafted, intentional, and designed by people like you—people who resist exploitative production systems and create with intention—is beyond. It feels good to be part of this collective and be a walking ad for them, plus it keeps my style unique and timeless.
CosmoME: What’s been the biggest challenge you’ve faced as an artist trying to break into the music industry, and how have you overcome it (or are you still working through it)?
Lina: The challenge is ongoing. I remind myself every day that I don’t need to take the traditional industry route, especially now, when global attention is shifting towards Arab artists. Instead of fitting into a system that wasn’t built for us, I see an opportunity to do things differently. In a world increasingly divided between corporate and communal values, I don’t understand why so many Arab artists and executives feel pressured to choose corporate at a time when the world is moving away from that model partly because of the atrocities being brought upon us.
CosmoME: Who are some artists who’ve influenced your sound or inspired your journey? And is there anyone you’re dreaming of collaborating with one day?
Lina: Walla’at band from Akka. Rim Banna from Nazareth. DAM from Lyd. Mercedes Sosa from Argentina. Fairouz and Julia Butrous from Lebanon. Cheb Mami from Algeria. Whitney Houston from the States. Avril Lavigne from Canada. Regarding dream collaboration—Björk.
CosmoME: What is next for you? Any upcoming projects or goals you are excited by?
Lina: My next release is the most important project I have done so far. It is called AKKA, named after my hometown, and it is part of an EP currently in the works. This project is a journey of remembrance and gratitude, honouring the true meaning of privilege, acknowledging the land and city that shaped me, and recognising our role as protectors despite the daily hardships we face. So many people around me are leaving or considering leaving in search of safety or stability. I feel that deeply. I question it myself almost every day and prepare for a plan B, especially over the past two years. But every time I return home from a tour or work trip, the need to stay and root myself here grows stronger.
The EP is set to release at the beginning of next year. I was initially considering calling it RADICAL, reclaiming a word often projected onto me, but now I feel drawn to BINT AKKA, carrying my city with me wherever I go. I cannot wait to direct the visuals from my hometown. I pour everything into my visuals, from art direction and styling to directing every detail of the story I want to capture. This project is bigger than me. It carries the voices, memories, and experiences of all Akkawis and 48ers, or at least I hope. In that sense, it is not just creative work; it is activism. This summer, I curated tours in the Old City to support local markets and small businesses. It has been very hard to see our cities deprived of tourism and income. Since I am not performing in Palestine, I wanted to create a space for my audience to connect with Akka firsthand, visiting my school, enjoying the food I love, exploring my favourite spots, and experiencing the city through my eyes. Art is never just about visibility. It is about actual change.
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