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Photo by Sarah Edelman 

Samy Sharif jumped out of our inbox like a runaway flame. The music immediately stood out as one of those rare invocations that has it all: vision, execution, consistency, vulnerability. Ambitious as ever, Sharif spent his first 18 months in Los Angeles writing and recording a trilogy of albums — House of Failure, House of Fix, and House of Bliss — nine songs each, forming the body of work he calls Three Houses, which has already amassed over one million streams.

The Egyptian-Irish, first-generation American artist has national and international touring history, and a knack for translating introspection into widescreen storytelling. His latest visual, “Snuff the Pilot Light,” is a short film disguised as a music video, relaying the opaque darkness of the human experience by way of an unmistakable, charmingly relatable personality. 

Below, Samy Sharif opens up about time, transformation, and the creative rebirth that shaped Three Houses.

The Snuff the Pilot Light video feels like a short film! You’re in a suit, but your face isn’t your own, and you’re dancing alone in what looks like an old living room. Can you walk us through who that character is and what that setting represents for you?

The video, at its core, depicts me interacting with my past, present, and future self. The concept stems from the song’s chorus, “I don’t want forever to happen too quick”

I have a 10 minute version of the video that shows the full conversation between my present and future self. We’ll release that edit down the line. For now, for the official video, we wanted to go with something more to the point. 

I feel like a lot of us have this conversation in our heads. I’m constantly trying to see things from the angle of my deathbed. “If I don’t carry forward, will I really respect myself at the end of my life?” It’s one of my main motivators to create at the rate that I do. In the end, when I’m on death’s door, I want to be able to say to myself that I never quit. I just kind of took that inner conversation and put it on camera. For example, when my present self picks up the phone, and my younger self asks if we still make music. 

There’s a line that really stands out to me: “Break the fingers on the hands of time.” What does that lyric mean to you personally?

I appreciate you giving a nod to the poetry. That line, to me, is the crux of the whole piece. It speaks to my desire to slow down the passing of time. The older we get, the quicker the time seems to pass, don't it? I don’t know if that’s because we’re better acclimated to how it moves, but I do know that a year feels like a few months now. Mortality comes to front of mind. 

If each album were a season, how would you describe the weather in each house: Failure, Fix, Bliss? 

Failure: Winter. Midwest. You can see your breath in the air and some blood in the snow. Street salt stains on your boots. You forgot your gloves at home ‘cause you always do. But still, somehow, you’ve got hope in your heart and an unshakable faith in yourself. 

Fix: Spring. East coast. Smells like rain. Lawn is overgrown but it looks good that way. Pops of green amidst the deadwood. It’s good walking weather if you like walking when other people don’t. You don’t carry shame the same way you used to. You’ve forgiven yourself and the world. The puddle at the end of the driveway is a good spot to see your reflection. It doesn’t bother you. 

Bliss: Summer. West coast. Venice. Swagger in your step like a leaning palm tree. Lens flares in your sunglasses make you see the soul in everything ordinary. Fruits. Warm concrete. It’s not hope anymore, it’s more like knowing. 

Trilogies like this often come from somewhere deep. What changed in you across the arc of the three albums?

My life is radically different then it was in 2023 (when I started all this). I had felt something boiling up in me in Chicago for years. Felt like a pressure cooker. The way I lived for the past decade was catching up with me. When I moved out to LA, I was starting over both professionally and spiritually. The titles of the albums actually map my inner journey quite accurately. When I released Failure I was in a dark (yet hopeful) spot. I was starting over in a new city. I was working a construction job. I was grateful for the work but was yearning for whatever was coming next. By the time I released Fix, I had moved to Venice with my girl. I had signed a small publishing deal. I was starting to do shows here and there. I was cleaning up my lifestyle and focusing on health. Then by the time Bliss dropped, I was fully in the swing of things. I’d lived in LA for just under two years. I had put a strong routine in place. I haven’t had a drink in like 11 months (told myself I’d do the whole year – almost there). I’m extremely disciplined in my work. I’ve got fantastic people around me everywhere I turn. Incredible collaborators and loved ones alike. I love my life here. I’m a grateful guy. 

Three Houses as a whole is a truthful snapshot of a man starting over from scratch. If it’s emblematic of anything, it’s emblematic of that; transition.  

All of your visuals feel intentional, like they're truly cinematic extensions of the music itself. What do you hope listeners and viewers experience when they watch one of your videos?

Well my end goal as an artist is to be a filmmaker. And right now my music is serving as a conduit for that desire. My collaborator, Chris Kas, and I are building the tools, the vocabulary, and the style that we’ll one day use to make feature films. 

I want the videos to be as thoughtful as the music. I spend 80% of the time that I’m awake on my art. I really don’t think about much else (for better or worse). So when we approach the videos, we’re scratching at that same philosophical itch we’re trying to get at in the studio. To me they’re two ventricles of the same heart. 

What do I want the viewers to get out of it? I suppose I just hope they can see pieces of themselves. This may be a bit cliche, but any great artist is really just holding up a mirror. When I open up my ribs and let everyone look inside, maybe they’ll see their reflection. Maybe not. 

If you could collaborate with any artist, dead or alive, who do you think would understand the House universe best, and why?

I’m a big Nick Cave guy. I hope to one day be revered as a descendent of his. I think he’d understand what I’m doing. He’s also, to me, the epitome of fining with age. His career arch is similar to how I’d like mine to look. His work is only getting more beautiful. More haunting. Wild God is a masterpiece. 

What’s next for you now that the trilogy has come full circle? Are you staying in this world or breaking into a new one?

Breaking into a new one. I’ve finished my next album. It’s called Belly Laugh. This feels like a cool place to announce that. 

Anything else you’d like us to know?

I’m opening for JMSN in Vancouver on 11/23. He’s another artist I really look up to. True to form.