As Jen Ash enters 2026, she’s done playing it safe. In this honest conversation, the artist talks about discipline learned on the court, the freedom she found in music, and why her upcoming work is rooted in truth, confrontation, and conscious expression.
Q: After 14 years on the basketball court, you made a major transition into music. How did sports shape your mindset, and what moment made you realize it was time to change paths?
A: It wasn’t always easy — I wasn’t the most talented person in the room — but it definitely taught me hard work and discipline. You also learn how to work with your teammates, that not everything is about you, and that the team often has to come first, a mindset I still apply to my musical projects today.
Looking back, I always felt like I didn’t fully belong for some reason. I never really created deep connections with most of the people I played with, except for maybe two or three. It was rough at times. The business side of the game took over, and compassion started to disappear, so I eventually reached a point where I didn’t want to be part of it anymore.
Your career is largely in the hands of a coach who can either make the experience empowering or miserable, and I wanted to be in control of my own destiny. So when I closed that chapter, I did it with zero regrets — just a lot of memories and powerful life lessons that still stay with me today.
Now, in my music career, I’m building a team of wonderful people who help me bring my vision to life. I value teamwork over individual talent, and I truly believe in the power of creating together rather than alone.
My sports background has made me very grounded and mentally strong. Compared to many other artists, I deeply understand what it takes to reach your goals — the consistency, the sacrifice, and the resilience — and I’m not even a little afraid of putting in the work.
In the end, sports didn’t just shape how I work — it shaped how I show up in life, and those lessons continue to carry me forward.
Q: Your music draws from R&B, Afro rhythms, French Caribbean sounds, and your Lebanese roots. How do you let all those identities coexist naturally in your work?
A: When I first started making music, I was rejecting my roots. Part of me wanted to start a new life, forget the past, and try to fit in. I grew up in France as a Middle Eastern immigrant, and I always felt a bit like an outcast.
As a kid, I found myself shrinking and trying hard to integrate into French society, just wanting to be accepted. I think I carried the same mindset when I moved to California, listening to what people told me about how I should express myself in the music industry — which pushed me into a “ballad” type of artist. I didn’t really enjoy that era of my life. Part of me just wanted to be successful, and I hadn’t yet learned to be okay with stepping outside the boxes others placed me in.
But then I realized that my past — my roots, my experiences, both good and bad — are what make me who I am today. That is what makes me unique.
I’ve always felt a deep connection to the rhythms of Afro-Caribbean music. Growing up in France, I found a sense of belonging with the African community, a space where I truly felt at home and understood.
One day, I had a wake-up call: I wanted to embrace who I am without apologizing for it. When it comes to merging all those influences, I don’t overthink it — I go with the feeling. I try to make music that speaks to the soul, so it’s more about emotion than anything else.
When you embrace who you are, everything flows naturally, and nothing feels forced.
Q: Your lyrics are deeply rooted in real life and personal truth. When you start a song, what leads the way for you, the message or the melody?
A: It’s essential to draw from real-life experiences. I usually start with a subject — something or someone I want to talk about, something that has affected me deeply, or an experience that I need to process. Music becomes my way of navigating those emotions — whether it’s anger, frustration, love, heartbreak, or even moments of joy. It’s a way to make sense of what I’m feeling and to transform those raw experiences into something lasting.
I try to turn these moments into memories through my songs, capturing not just the events themselves but the emotions behind them. That’s why the subject is always my starting point, and why my songs feel so personal. Every track is a reflection of a piece of my life, a way to share my story and connect with others on a human level. Writing this way allows me to be honest, vulnerable, and authentic — and I think that’s what gives my music its heart and its soul.
Q: Your EP Shining Bright felt like a statement of self-determination. Looking back, what did that project represent in your journey?
A: It’s so funny — I just got emotional thinking about it. Shining Bright was like a letter to myself, a letter of courage and self-love, written for all the hustle, the struggle, and the people constantly trying to bring you down. It’s a reminder to keep following my destiny, even when the path feels bigger than me.
I wrote Shining Bright in a selfish way at first — it was for me — but it ended up becoming something people could relate to. No matter what we do, we all have dreams to chase, no matter how big or small, and the song became a way to celebrate that. It’s been incredible to see, especially during live shows, how many people connect with it — crying, singing along, feeling the message. That energy is beautiful.
It’s not just about the song itself — it’s about the journey behind it, the courage it took to keep believing that one day, people would finally see you. That hope, that perseverance, that belief — that’s what makes Shining Bright so powerful to me.
Also, this dream of becoming a successful, recognized artist is so big that sometimes it feels almost impossible, like reaching for the stars. There are moments when I feel small in the face of it all, and that’s when a little magic feels essential. That’s what the lyric captures for me: “I believe a wish will be granted, will the fairy come today?” — a spark of hope, a whisper of possibility, a reminder that even the impossible can somehow find a way to become real.
Q: You released three versions of the title track on Shining Bright. What does hearing the song in different forms reveal about its meaning?
A: The first version of the song was the original — the one you give a try even when you’re unsure, but you go for it anyway. And, like with every song, it truly comes alive when you perform it live. It’s crazy how different it can feel, even though it’s still the same song.
I’m so lucky to have an incredible keyboard player, Mr. D’Angelo Sherman, who brings his own soul and personality to every performance. Every time he plays, the song transforms — he infuses it with a beautiful, bluesy energy that makes it feel completely new and alive. There’s a kind of magic in the way he interprets it, and I felt I had to honor that by creating a piano version. It was my way of capturing his unique voice within the song while also exploring a softer, more intimate side of the music.
Growing up in France, I also felt it was important to create a French version for my French audience — because, let’s be honest, most of them don’t speak English! France was my home for a time, the place where I first started dreaming and where music became a true companion. Singing the song in my first language allowed me to reconnect with my roots and with the people who helped shape who I am. It was a way of sharing my story more personally and giving my French audience the chance to feel the song as deeply as I do.
Q: Your latest release, Do You Ever, showed a more vulnerable, emotional side of your afrobeat sound. What did you want listeners to feel when they heard it?
A: "Do You Ever" is one of my favorite tracks, and it comes from a very real place in my heart. I’ve had my share of bad luck in love, and I’m not trying to blame anyone for that — I know I’ve played my part too. The song is a true story about feeling a deep soul connection with someone who was already taken. It’s complicated, sure, and some might call it wrong, but I refuse to apologize for what I feel. Those emotions are real, and they happen to a lot of people.
With this song, I wanted to capture that raw, honest feeling without sugarcoating it. I wasn’t trying to create a fantasy or romanticize a story that isn’t true — I wanted to tell the truth, even if it’s messy. It’s about that bittersweet moment of connection, of longing, and of realizing that love doesn’t always fit neatly into the world’s rules. It’s about recognizing a bond that exists, even if the circumstances are imperfect.
Writing and singing this song was my way of being vulnerable, of admitting that sometimes love is complicated, and that it’s okay to feel deeply even when the timing isn’t right. I hope when people listen to it, they feel that honesty too — because we’ve all been there, in one way or another. It’s a song for anyone who’s ever felt that impossible pull toward someone and just had to honor the truth of their own heart.
Q: As you step into 2026, you’ve spoken about addressing social realities and exposing real struggles. What pushed you toward that direction now?
A: I understand better now the purpose of being an artist. I understand my role as a creative, and I think it’s more important than ever — especially in a world where music often feels meaningless — to bring real stories back. Social media is full of noise, and so much music and conversation today feels empty. That noise can cover up what’s truly happening in the world, and I feel it’s my duty to speak about it. I’ve stayed silent for too long.
I’ve never been a people-pleaser or the type to follow rules blindly. I’ve always had a rebellious side, and as I enter 2026, I want to embrace that fully — without worrying about what people think, even family. There was a time when I held back, afraid of hurting people but that fear is gone now. I’ve found purpose, and it’s bigger than me. I’m just the voice, the instrument, to help make the world a more conscious, aware place.
Q: “HELL” seems to introduce the direction you are taking as you step into 2026. How does this song embody your choice to speak more openly about social realities?
A: “HELL” is the beginning of my Rebel with a Cause era. I was born in Lebanon, a country where people often hate each other because of their religion — sometimes even killing one another over differences in faith or interpretations of ancient texts written by humans long ago. Growing up in a Christian school, I was told over and over that if I didn’t follow certain rules, I would go to hell.
The truth is, when your soul moves on, there is only love. Hell isn’t a place after death — it’s here on Earth. It’s the suffering and evil all around us: the wars, the abuse, the rape, the killings, the lack of compassion, the endless struggle for power.
As I’ve grown and explored spirituality away from home and family expectations I’ve realized that religion divides us — it can be used to control the masses and, in many ways, brainwash us.
The idea of hell after death doesn’t make sense to me, and I wanted to challenge it, even make fun of it, to show how absurd it is.
“HELL” is a mirror, showing the truth so we can face it, feel it, and maybe choose a better way.
Q: Alongside the song, you’re going to release a music video. You stated that it may shock some people and make others smile. What role does it play in how you want HELL to be understood?
A: When I came up with the concept for the “HELL” music video, I wanted it to be very serious. But as I started discussing it with my friends — the actors I was considering casting — I realized something important. My basketball background kicked in: it’s all about the team and making the process enjoyable for everyone and Creating something together
I listened to the cast — their ideas, their perspectives, how they interpreted the concept. And suddenly, the project started to take on a life of its own. With these hilarious actors in the room, what began as a heavy, controversial subject transformed into comedy. Their energy and creativity completely shifted the tone, and that collaborative process made it something unexpected and special.
Every single element of this video came together organically. I just went with the flow, trusting the process and letting the universe guide me.
Comedy is the best way to expose the hypocrisy of the world we live in, because laughter is a powerful tool.
At its heart “HELL,” it’s about freedom — escaping judgment and the cage of false beliefs.
I’m excited to see how people respond. It’s bold, risky, and bound to shake some people, but I’m ready for it.
2026 is about to be Epic.
With “HELL” marking the start of what Jen Ash calls her “Rebel with a Cause” era, her answers reveal someone who has learned to trust the flow — in music, in life, and in purpose.
