Matan Hamish begins by admitting that pausing his creative process nearly destroyed him. The Tel Aviv–based songwriter-producer set music aside during medical school—a practical decision that made sense until it didn’t. When a personal crisis hit a few months ago, he didn’t reach for his medical training; he returned to what he’d left behind: making music.
“Music helped me rise up from the darkest of places in my life,” he says, and you can hear that darkness threaded through tracks like “Tunnel Vision,” with its drowning imagery and themes of exhaustion, or “Hallucinating,” which captures the paranoia of being gaslit through pulsing electronic production.
What’s fascinating about Hamish isn’t just the emotional weight of his work—it’s how he refuses to stay in one lane. One track pairs warm country guitars with vulnerable vocals. The next builds into dark house territory. Then there’s a piano ballad with ethereal strings and pads. Each song serves its own emotional purpose, and Matan Hamish seems perfectly comfortable letting the message dictate the genre rather than the other way around.
How did you first get into music and songwriting?
I started getting into music and writing back when I was a teenager listening to metal bands, as a way to express myself. As I grew up, I opened up to many more genres of music and I find myself enjoying writing in any genre that fits my current mood and the message the song is trying to convey. After a long hiatus due to studying medicine and working as a doctor, I got back to writing music to help me get through a deeply personal recent struggle.
Your catalog jumps from country-influenced tracks to dark electronic production. How do you approach such different genres?
Big, melodic, a bit dramatic—like me—and always catchy. That’s the thread running through everything, regardless of genre. Whether it’s “Homeland” with its warm guitars and touch of twang, or “Mono to Stereo” with its house/EDM style, I let the emotion and message guide the production choices. The genre becomes a tool rather than a limitation.
Can you walk us through some of your tracks and what they represent?
“Oxygen” is this beautiful piano arrangement with ethereal pads—it’s about finding the strength to let go of lost love and relearn how to breathe on your own. “Hallucinating” goes completely different with its electronic build and hard-hitting crescendo. That one captures what it feels like when someone you love makes you question your own reality. “Tunnel Vision” leans more rock, using drowning imagery to express holding on too long and that painful relief when you finally let go.
You handle everything from composition to production but bring in vocalists. Why that approach?
Singing was never one of my strong suits—luckily for everyone’s ears! But honestly, I love directing different vocalists and seeing how they interpret the emotions I’ve written. I write, compose, arrange, and produce everything, then work with various singers to bring each song to life. It keeps things fresh and lets each track have its own identity.
Dream collaborations?
Christina Aguilera, Sam Carter, Anyma, Max Martin. Pretty varied list, right? But that’s the point.
What do you hope listeners take away from your music?
A home. A voice they were looking for and still haven’t found in other songs. I want people to feel less alone in whatever they’re going through.
What’s next for you?
I’m reworking some of my songs with extremely talented producers right now. Great things to come—bigger and better productions. I’m also looking to connect with publishers and managers who see the potential in getting these songs recorded by artists worldwide.
There’s something refreshing about an artist who doesn’t apologize for being “a bit dramatic.” Matan Hamish wears his influences openly—from teenage metal to contemporary pop production—without trying to smooth out the contradictions. His cat Chvostek makes an appearance in his profile photo, and somehow that detail fits perfectly with someone who balances pediatric medicine by day with late-night production sessions.
The range in his catalog could feel scattered in less capable hands, but Matan Hamish’s emotional honesty acts as connective tissue. Whether he’s crafting a country-tinged meditation on isolation or building an electronic anthem about mixed signals, there’s an authenticity that cuts through. These aren’t exercises in genre-hopping; they’re different languages for different kinds of pain and healing. And maybe that’s what happens when you come back to music not for career advancement but for survival—you stop worrying about staying in your lane and start saying what needs to be said, however it needs to be said.
Check out Matan’s work at his SoundCloud, listen to his curated best-of playlist, or follow him on Instagram. For inquiries: matanhamish2@gmail.com