The Palestinian-Jordanian singer ventures into new realms in her upcoming debut album.
Reina Khoury knows exactly who she wants to be. The Palestinian-Jordanian singer has never felt more certain about her next steps, and after taking two years away from the spotlight, her sound has found its truest form.
Becoming a mother for the first time prompted Reina to reassess her priorities, reconnect with herself and reconsider her artistry. One of her latest singles, “Bi Alami”, which marked the beginning of this new chapter, introduces audiences to a more unfiltered Reina, backed by a newfound sense of confidence.
FACT spoke to the superstar singer ahead of the release of her self-titled debut album, REINA, which arrives on 24 September 2026.
On being a woman in the music industry
When Reina became a mother, she stepped into her most challenging role yet, one she had long anticipated. As she watched her son discover the magic of the world around him, she also began to recognise something new within herself.
“Motherhood naturally forced me to take a step back and not be able to create in that moment,” Reina explains that the space provided her with “a complete shift in perspective and identity.”
Today, Reina approaches her artistic decisions with greater certainty. “Khallas, I know who I am, I know what my priorities are, I don’t have time for nonsense anymore. I surround myself with people who genuinely love and support me. I’ve realised that time is scarce, and I want to make use of every second that I have.”
Arab women are all too familiar with being labelled ‘too much’, a description Reina readily embraces on her debut album. The first single released from the record, “Bi Alami”, tackles that idea through a distinctive new sound.
“The part that got the most attention is a sort of rap; it’s almost spoken. It was just powerful enough for people to hate on. It affected me at first because several videos went viral, and it wasn’t the attention I wanted after my absence. It was inevitable.”
Rather than allowing the negativity to derail her, Reina quickly found it empowering and used the response as an opportunity to champion different sounds within the Arab music industry.
“There are new voices, and listeners just have to accept that not everyone is going to look and sound the same.”
Alongside that confidence sits a more sensitive side, explored on the album’s second single, “Ulli Inno Mafi Minni”. Its romantic melody reveals the contrasting sides of Reina’s personality and the record itself. “One is the more confident version of me and the other the more vulnerable personality. It’s a balance between both; sometimes one overpowers the other, but they always co-exist.”
On music and social media
In the pursuit of virality, the music industry can sometimes lose sight of the meaning behind the art. Reina had always been conscious of that possibility, yet found herself caught in the same cycle. As her profile grew within the SWANA music scene, she watched the soul behind her sound begin to give way to the algorithm, with music increasingly treated as content.
“It was exactly what I feared and what I didn’t want. I started to ask myself why I even started making music in the first place.”
Ultimately, Reina’s love for her craft carried her through. As she puts it, “music has always been ingrained deep into my bones.”
She also felt the pressure to release music constantly in response to social media algorithms and believes the modern industry has increasingly confused visibility with artistry.
“Taking the decision to step back for two years was a taxing and scary one to make. I can’t tell you I’m not paying the price of that. Even the way Spotify counts monthly listeners is crazy. Music takes time – it can’t be forced. It’s a decision of whether you want to create music for the sake of artistry or to stay relevant. I hope my music is powerful enough to break through that noise.”
On experimenting with a new sound
As artists from the Arab world have gained greater international recognition, many have also had to navigate outside expectations surrounding language and sound. For years, some chose to sing predominantly in English as they sought to reach wider global audiences, often moving away from their mother tongue in the process.
On her debut album, Reina has worked to reverse some of those learned habits: “I’ve been trying to understand why it took time to own our voices in Arabic. Back in 2020 when I released my first single, it was in English because I was more comfortable writing in it. After coming back to Amman, I started to embrace Arabic more.”
Reina is part of a new wave of Arab artists increasingly embracing the Arabic language in their work. Egyptian pop star Bayou’s latest album, Brince, is his first entirely Arabic record, while Egyptian rapper Tul8te performs exclusively in Arabic.
Committing herself to the language also introduced Reina to a different approach to making music: “In the Arab world you have the writer who writes the lyrics, the composer who composes the melody and so on and so forth. When I first started, it blew my mind – how come the writer doesn’t sing?”
Finding the right creative team became essential, especially one that would let her stay directly involved in the writing process.
“I feel like us as a new generation have reintroduced the idea of making music as a more collaborative process.”
That collaborative approach runs throughout her new material, where the lyrics may be less traditionally poetic but feel intentionally conversational, personal and direct.
“That’s what I love about writing music; it’s telling a story about something you experienced. But that’s not what everyone’s accepting. People comment with things like ‘What are those ChatGPT-written lyrics?’ It’s my normal spoken Arabic!”
Reina cites producer Sherif Mostafa from Egyptian rock band Cairokee as an important source of renewed energy and inspiration during the making of the record.
“He made me think of where the balance is between creating a song that is successful but is also true to your artistry and the story you want to tell.”
She is equally enthusiastic about Cairokee’s willingness to take risks with their sound and move beyond the formula-driven tendencies of Arabic pop.
“I fell in love with them because their music always has a story and a journey – it’s an emotional experience. I care about that a lot. It keeps you going back to the song for a specific reason. If there’s a catchy song you like, you might fall in love with it and listen again and again, but when it’s emotional, there’s something special.”
On criticism from others
As Arab music has gained greater mainstream attention, its artists have also faced increased scrutiny from the industry, audiences, and their peers. The pressure to fit a particular image of the ‘perfect Arab artist’ can be difficult to escape.
Reina knows those pressures well: “There are so many rules we have to follow as Arab artists: what to wear, what to talk about and how to sound. It’s tough to navigate, especially for women…” She sighs, “There’s a status quo, and anyone who diverts from it is instantly labelled as wrong.”
In Amman, however, Reina has found a creative community moving in the opposite direction. A growing generation of local artists and independent businesses is helping transform the Jordanian capital into an increasingly diverse cultural hub, where individuality has room to flourish.
Returning to Amman allowed Reina to immerse herself in that environment. From working with live musicians to singing in the Jordanian dialect, she has drawn upon her own identity to create what feels like her most personal and expressive work to date.
On her upcoming debut album, REINA, Reina Khoury is stepping forward on her own terms. Her voice commands attention. The question is, are you listening?
Contact: https://warnermusicme.lnk.to