WAIN

Q: What inspired you to create an album that feels like a continuous emotional journey rather than just a collection of songs?

I think at some point I got tired of making songs that were just “singles.” I wanted something that breathes like life itself, full of ups and downs, colors and greys. Still Colorful came from a place of wanting to tell a story that felt human, not perfect. I didn’t want it to sound like a playlist, but like a single heartbeat that changes rhythm across the record. Each track is another layer of emotion, not separated moments, but parts of the same feeling evolving.

Q: The lyrics across Still Colorful feel deeply interconnected. How intentional was that sense of cohesion when you began writing the project?

Completely intentional. When I started working with different writers, I made it clear that I didn’t want random songs, I wanted conversations. Every lyric had to somehow connect to a shared thread: uncertainty, identity, and the beauty of not having it all figured out. Even when different people wrote with me, they all touched the same emotional ground, because I was there guiding it, making sure it stayed honest and vulnerable.

Q: Each track features a different vocalist, yet the album feels unified. How did you ensure that the lyrical tone and message stayed consistent throughout?

That was the hardest part, but also what made the album special. Every singer came from a different world, different energy, voice, and story. So I built Still Colorful almost like a film soundtrack. Every song is a scene from the same universe.
When we finished writing a song, I would sit with the vocalist and rewrite small pieces together so it truly became theirs. I wanted them to feel part of the story emotionally, not just technically. That’s how I worked with incredible writers like Tay Lerner, Nitzan Shahar, Tom Nir, Noa Shabon, and Lian Shahar, each brought their own color, but I made sure the palette stayed balanced.

Q: Many of the lyrics explore uncertainty and identity. Was that something you were personally going through at the time, or did it emerge naturally through collaboration?

It was personal, definitely. I think every artist hits a point where they ask themselves, “Who am I without the music?” Still Colorful was me trying to answer that question. But it wasn’t only my voice, it was the voices of everyone who worked on it. It’s about collective uncertainty, not just mine. I wanted to show that we’re all trying to figure it out, together.

Q: There’s a recurring theme of self-discovery after heartbreak. Do you see Still Colorful as more of a healing process or a reflection on healing already done?

It’s both. When I listen back, I can hear the moments when I was breaking, and the moments when I was building myself again. Some songs were written in pain, others in peace. But all of them come from the same truth: that healing isn’t a straight line. It’s a circle. You keep revisiting old feelings until they stop hurting the same way.

Q: Songs like “Three or Four” and “We Don’t Belong” speak to the ache of loss, while “Colorful” ends on hope. Was that emotional evolution something you planned, or did it reveal itself as the project took shape?

I didn’t plan it, it just happened naturally. We Don’t Belong changed the most, it started as a totally different song. I didn’t like any version of it until Nitzan came in and wrote this amazing new melody that brought it to life. It was the song I fought with the most, but in the end, it taught me patience, to trust my instincts even when something feels lost.
By the time we got to Colorful, I realized the record had become about acceptance, not sadness. That shift wasn’t written in advance, it just happened as I grew through the process.

Q: In “Take Me Home,” there’s a line about needing to “learn to love myself.” How did writing this project influence your own relationship with self-love?

That line still hits me every time. It’s funny, when you’re producing for others, you spend so much time helping them find their voice that you forget about your own. This album reminded me that I can’t give what I don’t have. Learning to love myself isn’t about confidence, it’s about kindness. Allowing mistakes. Allowing imperfection. That’s where the name Still Colorful comes from, life isn’t perfect, but it’s still full of color.

Q: In “Hit the Ground,” you explore the fear of happiness and the anxiety of waiting for things to go wrong. What made you want to dive into that side of emotion?

Because I live it. I think a lot of people do, we’re scared of being too happy because we’ve been disappointed before. “Hit the Ground” was me admitting that fear out loud. It’s about realizing that joy and anxiety can exist in the same room. I didn’t want to make a record about being okay, I wanted to make a record about learning how to be okay.

Q: “I Wish I Could Fly” captures the tension between pretending to be okay and truly healing. How much of that song reflects your own struggles with authenticity?

Almost all of it. That song started as a letter to myself. It’s about the moment you stop acting like you’re fine and just admit that you’re not. But the beauty is, once you stop pretending, you actually start healing. I think honesty, brutal honesty, is where real connection starts.

Q: Collaboration seems to be at the heart of this album. How did writing with different artists shape the way the lyrics evolved?

It made me listen more. When you write with others, you realize how different people express pain, joy, or doubt. I learned to let go of control and allow other voices to influence mine. The lyrics became richer because they weren’t just my story, they were ours. That’s what I love most about Still Colorful, it feels human because it’s collective.

Q: The final track feels like closure, but not finality — more like renewal. Do you see Still Colorful as an ending or a beginning for you artistically?

It’s 100% a beginning. It’s the end of my first chapter, but the start of the one where I fully know who I am. I want to bring this vision to a bigger stage, to connect with new artists, new sounds, and new stories. Still Colorful taught me how to build a world. Now I’m ready to expand it.

Q: After living with these songs and seeing how listeners connect to them, what have you learned about yourself since releasing Still Colorful?

That vulnerability works. That being real works.
I used to think you had to be “loud” to be heard. Now I know that sometimes, whispering the truth can reach farther. I’ve learned that connection is stronger than perfection, and that the songs that make people feel seen are the ones that last.