THE BEST SONGS EXPOSE SOMETHING ABOUT THE PERFORMER: THIS TORONTO PRODUCER JUST EARNED ONE OF THE COUNTRY’S TOP MUSICAL HONOURS

While most 12-year-old boys in the early aughts were punching each other over Xbox games, Toronto songwriter and producer Zale Epstein started visiting recording studios, soaking up everything he could from local legends and new artists breaking ground. Since 2012, he’s amassed songwriting credits on bangers by big names including Drake, Kendrick Lamar, Eminem, the Beaches and Nelly Furtado. It’s been a particularly good year for the tunesmith. In June, he collaborated with Grammy-winning producer Boi-1da on Canada’s World Cup album, What If It All Goes Right?, which included co-writing the team's anthemic goal song. Now, the Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame has named him Breakthrough Songwriter of the Year. We caught up with Epstein to talk about cutting his teeth in Toronto, writing for hip hop's finest and his fashion side hustle. It seems like Toronto has shaped you in a big way. What’s your origin story? I went to a small liberal arts public school in North York called Avondale Elementary Alternative, which gave me room to think differently. I started rapping and making music when I was 10. When I was 12, I started making MySpace pages for artists, and I remember taking the bus out to Black Creek and Lawrence when Soundsmith had a studio there, so I could learn more about the recording industry. That’s where I met Boi-1da, who took me under his wing. I continued hanging around studios at Queen and Jarvis, Kennedy and Sheppard, and Lawrence and Brimley, constantly meeting Toronto’s best writers. I learned a lot from Rich Kidd and Dan Hill, who exposed me to a more old-school, instrument-based world of songwriting and producing. I came up writing alongside Jessie Reyez and Lowell—we’ve done tons of sessions together. What were you rapping about at 10 years old? Mostly I was just excited about making music. I wasn’t rapping about anything unique to me. And for the actual music, I was doing what kids do best and trying to imitate what I liked—namely Phil Collins. It wasn’t until later that my songs started to develop and get more personal. How did it feel when the Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame named you their Breakthrough Songwriter of the Year? Honestly, so surreal. I didn’t know much about the process, and I wasn’t expecting the nomination or the win at all. It was humbling. This industry is tough. There are so many talented creatives vying for attention, so the recognition means a lot. At the same time, I’m also constantly on to the next thing, so I haven’t had the chance to pause and let the recognition of past work sink in just yet. Once I’m actually standing on that stage, I think it’ll really hit me. It’s called the “breakthrough” award, but you’ve already spent a decade in the industry. Does “breakthrough” mean something different to you now? Breakthroughs can keep happening at every age and stage. There’s no blueprint for how to be an artist. People break through in their 30s, 40s, 50s. We’re moving away from the idea that it only happens to kids. The songwriters who won this before me spent close to a decade working before their careers really clicked. I still feel like I’m breaking through, and it feels important to keep that hunger going. You wrote most of the songs for Canada Soccer’s World Cup album, including the goal song. How did that come together? Canada Soccer tapped Boi-1da for a creative role, and then he roped me in. We got overly excited about it. It evolved from a one-song project into a full album featuring a bunch of artists. The Jessie Reyez song “I Dare You (Tasty)” became the goal song, and it had to have a real competition edge. We knew we didn’t want to write songs literally about soccer but instead about hunger and rivalry. Jessie is such a fiery performer, and she really delivered. I also co-directed some of the music videos. Everything was super last minute—we had one week to throw together the filming and graphics. Is there a secret to writing a stadium song? Maybe not one secret exactly, but I think stadium music needs to feel big and be accessible enough that people can interact with it—whether that’s singing, humming or bouncing along. The certain bounce and rhythm—that’s what Boi-1da is really good at. It was fun finding words people would want to shout. When you’re working with an artist, how do you bring out their personal story? It’s different for every session, but the magic ingredient is just time. You have to get to know someone, learn how they want to be perceived and understand what their comfort level is when it comes to sharing. It’s hard for me to write something real if I’m approaching it like a pitch to an artist I don’t know. The songs that do well are the ones that expose something deeply true about the performer. So my job is figuring out where they’re at and finding a piece of that to put into sound—it doesn’t have to be a sad story, but it has to be their own. Any examples of that working out? When I worked with Leandra Earl from the Beaches on two songs, both concepts came from things I’d heard her say. Her Instagram bio says “lesbian of the year,” and I thought about how memorable that was and so true to her character. She’s always been open about her story, and that’s what people want from artists—it’s how we can relate to them. We got in the room and instantly aligned on that idea. It felt like we’d already written together before. The other concept came from a story she’d shared on a podcast. She humorously asked, “Did I say too much?” and that’s something just about everyone has whispered in their own mind. So it became the central question in another track. When you’re out of luck extracting a story, what else do you draw inspiration from? Freestyling. Sitting down with a mic, talking—saying whatever—and having fun. All pressure off. I like to keep ideas flowing. The worst creative space for me is a blank page and a deadline. There’s always a way to find something in randomness and connect it to something I’m working on. Sometimes something nonsensical turns into a melody of a real concept. If I find something in the flow state, chances are someone I’m working with has had a similar experience, and we can shape the song around that. You’ve also got—How should I describe it?—a clothing store meets art house. I’d call it an art house for sure. It’s called Brain on Plants, and it’s a mix of fashion, music and adjacent creative projects. We have a brick-and-mortar space on Dundas West. My partner, Stacey Ottman, and I run it. She’s an incredibly talented designer. I source the vintage clothing, and together we reclaim it in different ways—often that’s adding text, like lyrics or poems, onto the pieces. I’m in charge of the words for the most part, and she’s in charge of bringing the concept to fruition. What’s next for you, musical or otherwise? I’m looking forward to the Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame show in September. I also need to move around a bit—I’ve been locked in Toronto, and I want to bring the clothes on a bit of a world tour. I’m planning some adventures outside of Canada to learn a bit about other perspectives for more art-making. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

2026-08-04T18:24:48Z