Swiss newcomer Sanaë is as multifaceted as life itself. Her electropop song “Dirty
Soul” tells the story of a young woman searching for love in bars—but mostly finding
sex. “Done With You,” on the other hand, sounds as if Carly Rae Jepsen and Robyn had
written an in-your-face breakup song, only to turn it into a danceable radio hit instead. In
her single “White Walls,” the singer-songwriter addresses the epileptic seizures she has
suffered since an inflammation of the brain. In the piano ballad—one that even Lewis
Capaldi or Birdy could hardly deliver more movingly—she sings of the “thunderstorm in
the middle of my brain.” In the accompanying music video, she wanders through the
streets in a white hospital gown but also jokes around with her friends by the river.
In “Craving,” Sanaë processes a life-threatening brain surgery she had to undergo. Lines
like “I wrote some letters just in case, if I never leave this place” nearly break your heart,
and when she sings “I’ve been craving, craving for some peace”in the chorus, you can’t
help but wish her nothing but peace. That peace, however, has been under threat since
her youth: Sanaë lives with ME/CFS (Myalgic Encephalomyelitis / Chronic Fatigue
Syndrome)—a condition that affects the nervous system and the entire body. On some
days, the 24-year-old cannot get out of bed, walk, or even think. Yet despite all these
limitations, one thing has always been clear for the singer-songwriter: “No matter what
the future holds, the moment I filled out my advance healthcare directive, I knew—I have
to make music.” Because music was always there.
Music has been a part of Sanaë’s life since childhood. Growing up in a small village in
the canton of Solothurn, her family would often sing together. At the age of seven, she
began learning the cello, followed by piano and guitar. As a teenager, she started writing
poetry—which eventually turned into songs. Even as the first symptoms appeared in her
youth, Sanaë managed to build a professional life: she became a medical assistant and
later completed a Stage Artist program in Zurich, training in acting, singing, and dance.
But her illness caught up with her again—collapses, pain, needing relatives to help her
shower. She learned to live with it. “I’m naturally someone with a lot of energy—I love
doing tons of things, preferably all at once! But because of this systemic illness, I’m
forced to take breaks, to slow down. What always works, though, is music.”
And that music is exciting, vibrant, and full of life—carried by strong vocals. It’s this
balance between depth and pain on one side, and lightness and zest for life on the
other, that defines Sanaë’s art. So much for pop being shallow! In her songs, authentic
lyrics about human vulnerability meet organic, analog arrangements that allow her
voice and words to breathe. The piano feels alive, the drums pulse like heartbeats, the
strings reach out like hands pulling you into the world. It’s a sound like stepping out of a
library on a rainy autumn day after reading Kafka—and a ray of sunlight breaks through
the leaves.
