Finding Her Voice: Lora Mouna’s Journey from Childhood Songwriting to Independent Artist

Brooklyn-based, NC-born artist Lora Mouna is emerging as a compelling new voice in the alternative music scene, blending dream-pop atmosphere, indie-rock energy, folk-inspired storytelling, and subtle influences from her Syrian heritage into a sound that feels both intimate and expansive. At the heart of her music is a desire to create honest conversations with herself and her listeners, using heavy guitar textures, dynamic arrangements, and strikingly vulnerable vocals to explore themes of mental health, self-discovery, and the emotional landscapes we often struggle to put into words. Drawing inspiration from artists like Alanis Morissette, Wednesday, beabadoobee, and Indigo de Souza, as well as the raw emotional intensity she connected with through bands like Paramore and Pierce the Veil, Lora has developed a style that embraces both softness and intensity. Her songwriting is deeply rooted in personal experience, shaped by a lifelong connection to music that began in childhood and a passion for transforming complex feelings into immersive sonic worlds. With her latest single, “The Difference,” Lora invites listeners into one of her most vulnerable moments yet — a haunting and cathartic exploration of dissociation, numbness, and the search for meaning within repeating patterns.

Built around a slow-burning arrangement that grows into an explosive emotional release, “The Difference” showcases Lora’s willingness to experiment with her voice, structure, and storytelling. From spoken-word passages to layered instrumentation that captures the fragmented feeling of dissociation, the track highlights an artist who is constantly pushing herself creatively while remaining deeply connected to her experiences. In this interview, Lora Mouna shares the story behind the song, her journey as an independent artist, the influences that shaped her sound, and the personal meaning behind this new chapter of her music.

For readers who are discovering your music for the first time, how would you describe yourself as an artist?

Hi to those who are discovering my music for the first time! My name is Lora Mouna, and I’m an independent alt-rock artist based in Brooklyn, NY. I write music to have conversations with myself about my mental health through fuzzy, heavy guitar tones, with strong vocals at the very center. If you like Alanis Morissette, Wednesday, beabadoobee, or Indigo de Souza, I think you’ll like my music.

When did you first realize that making music was something you wanted to pursue professionally?

Ever since I was 7 years old, when my mom encouraged my sister & I to write songs about everything around us. We wrote about our childhood cat, my bike without training wheels, rainy days, our stuffed animals. She helped us record those songs, and I remember feeling like Hannah Montana. I wanted to be a singer ever since. As I got older though, I played with the idea of being on Broadway, but around 2023 I decided to fully commit to being my own artist.

Congratulations on “The Difference”! What was the initial spark that inspired this song, and how did it evolve during the writing process?

Thank you!!! The initial spark that inspired this song was feeling… nothing. And it was scary. It’s a feeling I’ve become all too familiar with because of my depression and dissociative tendencies.

I remember writing the first two verses by listing all the things I tried to do just to feel something. Eventually, I ran out of words to explain it, so I started singing “ah ah ah” over and over again, which almost sounds like a panic attack in the song. Then I shifted into spoken word because if a melody couldn’t capture the emotion, maybe just speaking could. I also wanted my voice to sound almost like I was running it through a sampler pad, but since I didn’t have one, I tried to recreate that effect acoustically instead, which created this broken record sensation.

You described the song as being about dissociation and repeating patterns. Was writing it a way of understanding those feelings, or did it come after you’d already processed them?

It was definitely a way of understanding my feelings. I almost always write my songs while I’m going through whatever it is I’m writing about because it helps me to fully confront it. Songwriting has become a way of revealing things to myself that I try to avoid.

The outro is particularly unique, with each instrument feeling like it’s living in its own space. How did you and your collaborators create that sonic representation of dissociation?

This song was surprisingly brought together so quickly when I brought it to my band. My band consists of Michael Hojnacki on drums, Nikki Estelami on bass, and Logan Butler on guitar. The first time they heard this song was at rehearsal, I played it acoustically, and then had them jump in and improvise the second time around. They’re all so playful in their approach to their craft, so we dove deeper into that and really tested what we could each do in our own little worlds while still keeping everything glued together. It was a fun experiment that ended up perfectly capturing the feeling of dissociation, so we just stuck with it.

You experimented with vocal flips, spoken word, and percussive vocal rhythms on this track. Was stepping outside your comfort zone an intentional goal for this release?

It honestly didn’t feel like a step outside my comfort zone because it felt like what this song called for. All of those elements came to me in moments where I didn’t know how to express the emotion through just a melody, so I started experimenting to explore what that emotion would sound like instead. Sometimes words don’t feel like they’re enough to capture an emotion, and neither is singing in a traditional way.

Your music blends indie rock, dream pop, folk, and Middle Eastern influences. How has your Syrian heritage continued to shape your songwriting and sound?

I love talking about all the ways my Syrian heritage influences my life. Growing up with Arabic poetry completely changed the way I write and even the way I speak. The depth that exists in Arabic poetry is something that can’t ever be fully translated into English, but I try to carry that essence into my songwriting.

Sometimes my music also contains melodies that aren’t completely predictable, and I credit that to the Arabic scales I grew up hearing. They naturally find their way into the harmonies and melodies I write. The songs that lean more into those influences aren’t out yet, but I play them live from time to time, and I’m really excited for people to hear those elements in my music.

Who were some of your biggest musical influences growing up, and how have they shaped your sound today?

Growing up, I listened to Pierce the Veil and Paramore religiously. I find myself going back to them often to this day, replaying their albums from 2012 and earlier. They helped shape my sound by teaching me to fully embrace rage and heavy emotion in my songwriting. I don’t shy away from any topic when I write because of them.

What inspires you outside of music?

There are a couple of things! I love free writing poetry, yoga, and being present with my friends and family. All of those things restore my inspiration and energy every single time.

Dream pop often creates emotional atmospheres as much as it tells stories. When you’re writing, do you usually begin with the lyrics, the melody, or the feeling you want listeners to experience?

I typically start with a chord progression on the guitar, and then it leads to a melody. I’ll sing placeholder lyrics in the meantime that usually make no sense or might even be made-up words. Then I’ll record that and listen to it later on. When I’m listening back, the made-up words end up sounding like real words, and I use that as inspiration to jump into the lyrics. It’s fun because it’s kind of like uncovering what my subconscious is trying to tell me. Another way to put it is that it’s like seeing the world blurry (which would be the nonsensical lyrics) and then putting on glasses (which is me clearly seeing what I was trying to say).

The title, “The Difference,” invites multiple interpretations. What does that phrase mean to you personally?

It invites a feeling of numbness, of shrugging your shoulders and being indifferent. To me, whenever I start thinking about what the difference is if I do one thing or another, I know that I’m kind of having an attitude of “whatever” to avoid what I’m actually feeling.

Your music often balances darkness with hope. Do you consciously try to leave listeners with a sense of healing, even when the subject matter is difficult?

Some of my songs don’t particularly end on a positive note, but the hope lies in the fact that the listener is not alone. A lot of the time when I write music that deals with my mental health, it feels like I’m the only one going through it. I hope I can allow the listener to fully feel their emotions without shame or fear, let it wash over them, and then let it pass. That’s what it’s like writing these songs for me.

Finally, with the release of “The Difference” and your upcoming live shows, what are you most excited for fans to experience in this new era of Lora Mouna?

I’m most excited for people to experience this new sound that I’ve found a home in. I’ve never been so sure of my direction as an artist, and I’m eager to invite people into this world, both sonically and visually.

Official website of Lora Mouna