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Meet the Jewish child table tennis ace who became a music icon

Zak Abel discusses the connective power of music, the terror of hearing loss and how he nearly became a professional table-tennis player

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When singer-songwriter Zak Abel was 21, he woke from an operation to fix the hearing loss he had suffered due to the condition otosclerosis, unable to hear anything at all.

“It absolutely terrified me,” he says softly. “The thing that I was scared of the most was not being able to make music again.”

After all, the 28-year-old musician born Zak David Zilesnick, who grew up in Hendon and who had his bar mitzvah at St John’s Wood United Synagogue, had been writing songs for the stars since he was a teenager.

Thanks to a well-connected cousin in Israel, he was introduced to his manager, and the co-writing sessions that followed led to a major record deal at 18.

And hits he has since co-written with dance producers have racked up millions of streams: Unmissable with Gorgon City, Freedom with Kygo, Beautiful Escape with Tom Misch, Ten More Days with Avicii, and more. His profile rocketed when he performed at the Coronation Concert in May.

Abel, who had re-learn how to hear over months after the operation, arrives at the West Hampstead café where we meet to discuss his new album, with headphones around his neck (he’s off to the studio after our interview), a warm smile and his arms out for a hug.

His debut album Only When We’re Naked, he is quick to admit, didn’t do well commercially.

However, Abel is one to focus on the positive. “It gave me a fan base, so it was a big success,” he says. “It meant I could tour Europe, have a career and be able to continue doing what I love.”

Coming nearly six years after his debut, Love Over Fear has emotion coursing through its melodic soul and dance beats — and its title track encapsulates his newfound intention to face his fears.

“As opposed to running away from what scares me,” he says. “The only way to overcome fears is to face them.” A “statement” of the entire album, the song is an “affirmation” to follow your passions even when things are tough.

Winging It, for example, deals with personal insecurities, while the anthemic Cry was written for a friend who was numb with sadness, to help him to feel again.

The musician found his hearing loss particularly “scary” to talk about, which wasn’t helped by the fact he’d long been discouraged by his team from discussing it publicly. “That was coming from a place of fear,” he points out.

“They didn’t know what the response would be, and whether it would jeopardise my relationship with my record label.”

The response to his powerful Let Me Sing, with its lyrics “Shocked to the system I was not prepared/ For the deafening silence spreading everywhere/

The future’s out my hands and no one seems to understand”, has been nothing but positive. And he saw the effect of sharing his journey so openly after an interview he did for ITV News prompted messages thanking him for speaking about the little-known condition.

“I’m so proud that I did decide to be open and bring people together and not run away from it, even though it is scary,” he reflects. It was cathartic, too, to finally open up, but he maintains that the benefit to his listeners is what most drives him.

“It was a relief,” he agrees. “But while music is about expressing myself and getting what’s on my mind off my chest, it’s also about how it’s going to be useful to other people. In so much of the music that I love, the [musicians are] revealing something about their life. And that’s necessary to connect with people.”

He cites Amy Winehouse for her openness about her relationship with drugs and alcohol. “I feel like I knew her and that’s really special. When it’s done right, that’s how it feels.”

Abel begins to tuck into the stacked vegetable sandwich he ordered, and which he has been politely ignoring while we chat. He’s been vegan since a slew of damning documentaries about the meat industry came out six years ago. “There was no original thought; I followed the zeitgeist,” he says self-deprecatingly.

He recently married his girlfriend of ten years, the subject of his song Woman, which was released, by chance, on their wedding day.

It’s the perfect showcase for his stunning soul vocals, which were shaped by singing along to the likes of James Brown, Stevie Wonder and Bobby Womack — songs played by his mother, with whom he grew up as a single child (his Moroccan-Jewish father died when he was 12).

“They definitely developed my love songs,” he corrects, batting off the compliment. “That was my musical upbringing.”

While he started writing songs at 14, he had been singing long before. A competition at Mathilda Marks-Kennedy School led to him winning the chance to sing at a Yom Haatzmaut celebration in Wembley Stadium. Not that it inspired him to be a pop star.

At the time he had been “obsessed” with table tennis. It all started when he was a nine-year-old rollerblading in Sunny Hill Park in Hendon, and challenged a 24-year-old, who happened to be an Israeli table-tennis coach, to a race.

“I’ve always been quite extroverted,” he says in response to my incredulity at this small boy’s ability to chase after a stranger in the park. “From a young age I had this understanding that it’s OK to be on the beach and ask someone to buy you an ice cream. I’ve always had a sense of chutzpah.”

When his mother caught up, the coach - Eli Baraty — suggested she take the young Abel to an exhibition at the Maccabi youth club.

Before long he was playing for five or six hours a day, and became the England No1 aged 11. He took his GCSEs at University College School a year early, and at 15 moved to France to play professionally.

Since he was there alone, he turned to the music of Paolo Nutini, Maverick Sabre and Adele for company. He started uploading YouTube videos, attracting attention for his covers. Between table tennis and music, music won.

“I’m very excited,” he says of being at the verge of releasing his much-anticipated second album, and reflecting on his arduous journey to get here. Just over a year ago he was trying to break free from a record label, unable to release the demos he was so excited to send off into the world. For a while he thought he never would.

“I was really depressed because I had completely lost momentum,” he says.

“This album has been 80 per cent written for two years, and it’s only now that I’ve been able to get it finished.

"I honestly thought I was going to have to quit.”

As for what he hopes his album will give to his listeners, it’s the confidence to tackle life’s difficulties, and the opportunity to dance. I wonder whether his reflective stance originates from those dark days when he was losing his hearing.

But he credits his sporting background. “Sometimes you win, but most of the time you lose. If you don’t reflect on your losses, you can’t grow.” And right now, Abel is certainly winning.

‘Love Over Fear’ by Zak Abel is out on BMG on August 25

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