Zowie Kengocha On Love, Freedom, And the Beauty of Spiral Tapes
Kenyan-born artist Zowie Kengocha, who seamlessly operates between Kenya and New Jersey, is a storyteller of love’s complexities, a creator of hauntingly beautiful soundscapes, and a voice unafraid to embrace the messiness of life. Zowie’s sound is as distinctive as her journey, shaped by her upbringing in Kenya and her time in the U.S., where she found the courage to step into the spotlight and pursue music wholeheartedly. Her latest EP, Spiral Tape, is a raw, introspective exploration of love, self-discovery, and the balance between chaos and clarity. In this interview with TANGAZA, Zowie opens up about her musical influences, the cultural duality that shapes her artistry, and the deeply personal stories behind her work.
You've credited your experience on American idol as the reason behind your choice to pursue music professionally. What about that experience solidified this career path choice for you?
It was a relatively small moment, but it had a huge impact on me. My audition wasn’t aired on TV, but the experience itself was incredibly meaningful. With American Idol, before you even get to audition in front of the celebrity judges; Katy Perry, Lionel Richie, and the others, you first have to go through several rounds with producers to prove you’re worthy of that moment. I made it through that process and eventually got to perform in front of Katy Perry and the judges. I received a golden ticket, and there was a comment Katy made that really stuck with me. I can’t recall the exact words, but it was along the lines of her seeing something special in me, they all saw something special in me. Just getting that "yes" from the judges and being part of the whole process solidified things for me. It was the confirmation I needed to take music seriously.
Who were some of your biggest musical influences growing up and how have they shaped your sound today?
There were so many artists who influenced me growing up. My dad had a huge CD collection, and he would play artists like Stevie Wonder, Usher, Shania Twain, Mariah Carey, Beyoncé, and Michael Jackson. That was my first introduction to music. Since I grew up in Kenya, we got Wi-Fi a little later in my family, so I started discovering music more independently when I was a pre-teen. I loved listening to a lot of pop music, so artists like Sia, Paramore, Miley Cyrus, and Brandy really stood out to me. When I moved back to the U.S., I listened to the radio all the time, which exposed me to so many different genres. I remember hearing everything from Shakira to country music, especially because my dad loved country. I would say my biggest influences came from my dad’s CD collection and my sister. She introduced me to a lot of R&B and rap, while I was more into pop and rock. That mix of sounds really shaped my taste and how I approach music today. The diversity in what I grew up listening to plays a huge role in how I create.
You operate between Kenya and New Jersey. How do these two places influence your artistry and creative process?
Growing up, I listened to a lot of Kenyan artists, especially gospel music. Since we only had local TV channels like Citizen and NTV, they played a lot of gospel, so that was a big part of my early music exposure.
Kenya influenced me in so many ways, especially culturally. I spent most of my formative years there, attending an 8-4-4 system school and being surrounded by the strong sense of family and community that comes with Kenyan culture. That foundation shaped a lot of who I am. On the other hand, being in New Jersey exposed me to a different kind of musical environment. African-American culture and the music scene here were very much alive. I was involved in drama club, choir, and even an a cappella group in high school. Those experiences pushed me to take music more seriously. In Kenya, music was something I loved, but I was really shy about it. I would sing under my breath and never put myself out there. When we moved back to the U.S., I remember my parents coming to my eighth-grade talent show and being completely shocked that I could sing because I had never done it publicly before. Being in Jersey helped me break out of my shell and embrace my love for music and performing. That confidence is what eventually led me to pursue music professionally.
Do you find that your music resonates differently with audiences in the U.S versus audiences in Kenya?
It’s interesting because I’m still in the early stages of growing my audience in the U.S., so I haven’t fully experienced the differences yet. In Kenya, especially in Nairobi, I’ve had more shows and built a stronger connection with the audience there. I made a conscious decision to focus on home first because I love it so much, and that’s where most of my listeners are right now. From what I’ve seen, my Kenyan audience resonates with my melodies and songwriting, and I get really sweet comments, which I appreciate. But in terms of comparing how my music connects in the U.S. versus Kenya, I don’t think I’m at that point yet. Everything is still fresh, and there’s so much more to explore. Right now, I’m just going with the flow and seeing where the music takes me.
You've mentioned before that your writing strength lies in highlighting the sad parts of love . What draws you to this theme and is the process of expression cathartic or challenging?
I love love. I love writing about it in all its forms, the good, the bad, the toxic, and everything in between. I enjoy exploring the taboos and the unspoken sides of love, whether it’s romantic, platonic, or familial. For me, writing about love has never been difficult because I draw from my own experiences, the stories I hear, and the world around me. Even when things get dark, that’s often when I feel the most expressive. I find that I tap into something deeper, and that’s where my creativity really shines. So while experiencing those emotions can be tough, putting them into words isn’t. Talking about love, no matter how complex or painful, has always come naturally to me, I’m a talker.
Spiral Tape, your latest project leans on alternative sounds. What inspired this project’s subject matter and sonic direction?
I always write about what’s happening in my life, and Spiral Tape was no different. After COLORS, I went through a strange period where I felt like I was both the victim and the villain in different situations. It was a summer filled with intense experiences; love, situationships, friendships, and a lot of self-reflection.
The name Spiral Tape connects to my spiral tattoo and highlights both the good and the messy parts of myself. To the outside world, it might have looked like I was spiraling, but to me, it wasn’t about losing control. It was about acknowledging the highs and lows, facing my demons, and learning from them. This project is about being honest, even when that honesty is uncomfortable. Instead of hiding from my mistakes, I wanted to own them, reflect on them, and express exactly what I was feeling in the moment, even if those feelings weren’t always pretty.
Sonically, I’ve always been drawn to alternative sounds. Even on my first tape, You Never Learn, songs like Skin had that edge, maybe the beat leaned towards R&B or Afrobeats, but my vocal delivery had a rock undertone. With Spiral Tape, I wanted to push that further, not just vocally but also in the production. I wanted the beats to carry that rawness, that fullness, to match the emotions in the lyrics. I grew up listening to Paramore, Panic! at the Disco, alternative music has always been a part of me. With this project, I fully embraced that.
On this project you feature your sister's poem Doll Parts in the track flood bank. What was it like collaborating with family and how did her words influence the mood and the message of the song?
This brings back such a funny memory. When my sister wrote Doll Parts, we were actually in the middle of a fight. You know how it is with siblings, sometimes they do something petty, and you take it so personally. So, when I first read the poem, I was convinced she had written it about me. Turns out, she hadn’t. That’s just her thing, writing from different perspectives but at the time, I was projecting hard. It captured emotions I had been experiencing, particularly in how I saw myself in certain relationships. At the time, I was in a space where I felt like I was sacrificing myself for people who didn’t truly value me, and Flood Bank reflects that. It’s wild because she wrote Doll Parts two years ago, and we literally fought about it back then. A year later, when I was working on Flood Bank, it just clicked, that poem belonged on the track. I went to her, and was like, “Remember that poem we argued about? Can I put it on my tape?” And she was just like, “Yeah, why not?” And that was that.
Beyond this, my sister inspires me so much. She’s an incredible writer, and I value her opinion deeply. Anytime I make something, I always send it to her first. She put out a poetry collection called Fruit Basket some time ago. It’s really, really good. It means a lot that people are noticing our collaboration. It’s special to have her work on my project, and I love that our creative worlds are intertwined in this way.
Do you have a favorite lyric or moment from spiral tape that feels especially meaningful?
Definitely my last song on the tape, Soft Eyes. The chorus goes: "Soft eyes, it gets better with time, Free your mind, it gets better with time." This line really stands out to me because it’s a message I constantly need to remind myself of. Life has its ups and downs, but no matter how tough things get, time has a way of making them easier to navigate. It’s a song of comfort, both for the listener and for myself. Soft Eyes is also special because it’s one of the most lyrically and vocally layered tracks on the project. It carries so much emotion, and I wanted it to feel like a warm reassurance, a moment of peace to close out the tape.
If you could describe the EP in three words what would they be?
Unique, introspective, and hauntingly beautiful. I know that’s technically four words, but I feel like hauntingly beautiful belongs together. It captures the essence of the project perfectly. The EP is deeply personal, like I’m knocking at your door with these songs, bringing you into my world. It’s everything, everywhere, all at once.
You got to showcase your artistry on Colors last year. What was that experience like for you and how did you prepare for it?
The Colors experience was really unexpected. I remember getting the email that they were interested in having me, and it felt so surreal. They asked me to send a couple of songs, but at the time, I was on vacation with my friend Quasim, it was their first time in Kenya, so I was fully in vacation mode, not in the studio at all. I sent them the only three songs I had at the time, thinking I’d need to hop into the studio and make more to give them options. But then they chose Project, and everything moved so fast. The whole process felt really natural, like I was meant to be there. Of course, I was nervous, it’s Colors, a platform I’ve been watching for as long as I can remember. But when it came to the actual performance, it just flowed. I did about five takes, and that was it. It was crazy, but I’m so grateful for the experience. It was also one of those moments that reminded me to keep going because I tend to go back and forth on things. This felt like a sign to push forward.
What is it like being a Kenyan artist exploring genres not traditionally mainstream in the region?
One thing I’ve realized about Kenyans is that we love everything. Like, you can find someone deep in the boondocks who’s obsessed with a super niche rock band. That’s just how it is here, we embrace all kinds of music. That’s why so many different artists can come to Kenya and still sell out festivals. At the same time, there’s this beautiful shift happening where we’re really starting to embrace our own culture and sounds more. My audience is growing, and I’m satisfied with that. I know I’m going to be big for sure, but I actually like the pace I’m at. Even with Colors, I was standing next to people who’ve been in this game for years, and I had only been at it for, like, three years. That alone was a sign. The Nairobi music scene right now is so good. It’s thriving. I love seeing artists like Njerae, Lil Maina, and so many others putting their own spin on the sounds they grew up with. Everyone is on their own journey, and it’s just great to witness and be part of the moment in whatever way I can.
What would you be doing if you weren’t pursuing music?
It’s hard to imagine doing anything other than music. Like, gosh, wow. If I weren’t doing music, maybe I’d be running, you know? Using my Kenyan genes to sprint. Or maybe I’d be a hairstylist, I love doing my hair. Modeling could be an option too; I’m pretty tall. Basketball, maybe? But honestly, with everything I’ve mentioned, it still feels like nothing would fit quite like music. I guess comedy could be a possibility, I do think I’m kind of funny. But at the end of the day, music is the thing. It’s my main thing. Without it, I probably wouldn’t exist.
What’s a message or feeling you hope listeners take with them after experiencing spiral tape?
I guess the main feeling I want listeners to take away from Spiral Tape is freeness, just feeling free. Free to do whatever you want, to be whoever you are without obligation or feeling tied down. Just doing what the hell you want to do. It’s about authenticity, self-expression, whether it’s something deep, simple, or even mediocre, it doesn’t matter. It’s about expressing everything and anything, just like I do in my music. That’s what we need in the world, especially right now.
What’s one piece of advice you’d give to an aspiring artist trying to navigate their own path in music?
Do whatever you want to do, without fear, without hesitation. If you feel drawn to something, even if it’s just a temporary fixation, go for it. Explore it. Experiment. It’s through that process that you hone your craft and grow as an artist. The more you embrace your creative instincts, the more confident and liberated you become. Don’t get caught up in the noise. Don’t box yourself into expectations, whether it’s a specific genre or a particular sound. If you want to create something entirely new, something unconventional, do it. Just be yourself, and trust that it’s enough. And most importantly, don’t be too hard on yourself. Artists tend to be their own biggest critics, but self-doubt can be consuming if you let it.
