ZÖJ is Gelareh Pour and Brian O’Dwyer – an experimental cross-cultural music duo. With a commitment to authentic intercultural expression, ZÖJ blends traditional elements from their respective backgrounds with contemporary experimental influences.
Gelareh’s virtuosic string and vocal performances intertwine seamlessly with Brian’s dynamic drumming, resulting in a captivating and accessible sound.
Seven spoke to Gelareh Pour to find out a bit more about how ZÖJ works.
How would you explain your music to somebody who has never heard it before?
ZÖJ’s sound is all about blending traditions with a spirit of experimentation. At the heart of our music are instruments like the kamancheh, which has this beautifully resonant, timeless tone. It’s steeped in history but becomes something new in our hands. My vocals weave through that, carrying emotions that range from longing to curiosity. Brian’s percussion brings a modern energy that really pushes the music into unexpected places, giving it a raw, dynamic feel.
What I love most about ZÖJ is that we don’t fit into any single genre. We’re more interested in creating immersive experiences, where you’re drawn into a world that’s both meditative and constantly shifting. The melodies have this reflective quality, almost like they’re pulling you inward, while the rhythms and textures keep you engaged. It’s a space where Eastern culture and Western experimentalism meet, resulting in something that feels both ancient and forward-thinking.
For us, it’s not just about the music itself; it’s about expressing stories and emotions that resonate on a deeper level. Themes like displacement and identity are central to what we do, but we approach them in a way that’s personal, yet universally felt. Even if you don’t understand the language, you can still connect with the feelings behind it. We’re aiming for a sound that’s rich in emotion and layered with meaning, inviting people into a world that might be unfamiliar but feels incredibly relatable at the same time.
What has been the response so far to your new album?
The response to Fil O Fenjoon has been incredibly encouraging. People have really connected with the atmosphere of the record – some describe it as haunting, others as deeply moving, and that’s exactly what we were hoping for. There’s something special about hearing how the album takes listeners on a journey, with each track flowing into the next like it’s telling a story.
One of the things I’m most proud of is how people have picked up on the chemistry between Brian and I. Our connection as musicians seems to really come through in the music, making it feel both intimate and powerful. Listeners have mentioned that the album is something they can return to and always find something new. I love that – it’s like the music has layers waiting to be discovered, even after multiple listens.
Do you feel that people don’t need to understand the language you are singing in, to be able to get the feeling of what the words are saying?
Absolutely, you don’t need to understand the language to feel the emotion in what we’re doing. I believe music has this incredible ability to communicate beyond words. The feeling in my voice, the way the kamancheh sings, the rhythms Brian brings—it all carries emotion, a message that goes deeper than language. Most of our audience doesn’t speak Farsi, but they still tell us how much the music moves them. That’s what’s truly important to us.
Each person’s experience with our music is unique and valid in its own way. For someone who understands Farsi, the lyrics might hit closer to home—they might connect directly to the stories and themes in a different way. But if you don’t know the language, your experience is still powerful; it might be more about how the music makes you feel, the textures, the flow of the sounds, or the energy behind the performance. Both perspectives are beautiful, and both are totally okay.
In a way, it’s like painting, two people can look at the same image and see completely different things, and that’s what makes art so special. I love that our music offers that kind of space. It’s not just about hearing words or recognising meanings; it’s about the raw connection you feel, the emotions that surface when you listen, and how you bring your own life and experiences into that moment. Whether it’s a familiar language or just a wave of sound, if it reaches you, then it’s doing what it’s meant to do.
For us, the goal isn’t just to be understood explicitly, it’s to be felt. To have a real emotional experience with people. And that’s where the magic happens. The universality of music means it can transcend language, offering everyone a way in, no matter what their background is.
What do you enjoy most about touring?
What I enjoy most about touring is the opportunity to connect with people from diverse backgrounds and to experience firsthand the ways in which music bridges cultural gaps. Every new city and every new audience offer a fresh perspective, and it’s fascinating to see how our music finds its way into people’s hearts, no matter where we are. There’s something magical about the way music can speak to emotions and experiences that transcend language barriers.
Further to your previous question on language, we’ve played in places where neither English nor Farsi is spoken, yet the connection with the audience is undeniable. It’s amazing to witness people reacting to our music, feeling the emotions, and connecting with the melodies, even if they don’t understand the lyrics. These experiences continually affirm that music has a universal language all its own.
Touring also allows us to engage with local cultures and hear how our music is interpreted and felt in different contexts. Meeting new people and seeing their reactions to our work is incredibly rewarding. It’s not just about sharing our music, but also about learning and growing from the interactions we have with audiences around the world. Each performance, each conversation, and each new connection is a reminder of why we do what we do.
Touring reaffirms for me that music is a powerful tool for creating understanding and building bridges between people from different cultures. It’s a reminder that despite our differences, we can all find common ground through the shared experience of music.
Are you having enough fun?
That’s such a timely and poignant question for me right now. Reflecting on the past few years, it’s clear just how deeply the arts have been affected by the pandemic. Many of my musician friends have struggled immensely. Some have even decided to give up music altogether because of the challenges they’ve faced. It’s been a tough period, and we’re all feeling the need for support more than ever.
The arts have always been a pillar of community strength in Australia, especially during crises. We’ve seen it time and again: artists and musicians are among the first to step up; organising events to raise money, offering emotional support through their work, and finding creative ways to help those in need. But now, it’s our turn to ask for support. This is the moment when we really need the general public to get behind us. We’re seeing venues close almost every week, festivals are shutting up shop, and it becomes harder and harder for independent artists to make a living and create new work.
So, if you have the chance, go to that local show, follow your favourite local musicians online, and buy their records. These actions might seem small, but they have a big impact. Your support helps sustain us and keeps the arts vibrant and thriving.
Australia has a rich history of rallying behind local artists. From the ’60s through the ’90s, we saw incredible enthusiasm for homegrown talent, with people coming together to support and celebrate their favourite local acts. Unfortunately, that level of support isn’t as prevalent today. But we can change that.
We need to reignite that spirit of local support. By showing up for local artists, you help ensure that the arts continue to be a vital and dynamic part of our community. It’s not just about having fun; it’s about keeping the creative spirit alive and thriving. Your support is not just appreciated—it’s crucial for the future of our art and our artists.
ZÖJ will play at The Northern Rivers Conservatorium in Lismore on Sunday, September 22 at 4pm. Tickets: events.humanitix.com/zoj/tickets.
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
