There is an absolute magnetism about Hael Husaini that is instant and draws you in.

The first time I met him was on the set of the music video for ‘Bujang’, his 2020 single with alternative pop collective MFMF. It’s a song about singlehood, built on a swaggering ‘80s Western pop chassis. He greeted everyone and even joked around with the crew, photobombing their behind-the-scenes social content. 

You could tell he was a seasoned pro who'd been doing this for years — with none of the divo energy that usually comes attached to an award-winning singer-songwriter. He kept the energy light and upbeat during a long day on set. 

Six years later, here we are on another set. A lot has happened in between.

‘Kelentang-Kelentong’, his catchy summer soundtrack, arrived in 2021 and earned an Anugerah Industri Muzik (AIM23) nomination. It has since passed 18 million views on YouTube alone. 

Two years ago, he released Antonim (Part I), his debut album. The single ‘Diam’ won Best Theme Song at the Asian Academy Creative Awards the same year. 

Last year, he held his first-ever solo concert at Zepp Kuala Lumpur. And recently, Anugerah Juara Lagu — Malaysia's premier song competition — presented inaugural Icon awards (Anugerah Ikon AJL 40) to both Faizal Tahir and Hael Husaini. 

Hael was given the award for consistently producing high-impact work, not just for himself but for a long roster of other Malaysian artists. 

Hael turns 39 this December. When I ask him about the award, he says he thinks he's still too young for it. He calls to mind a few people who are icons, more established than him: Dato’ Sheila Majid, M. Nasir and Anuar Zain. 

So I ask him what the word “icon” means to him. 

“Evergreen”, he says. “An icon is someone who is fluid and always reinventing themself.” 

He perks up, mentioning his favourite Pokémon, Ditto. The pink-coloured blob shapeshifter that can turn into anything, and anyone. “Ditto boleh jadi apa je dia nak,” he says. His choice of Pokémon shouldn’t be too surprising, given his chameleon nature. 

Hael wears multiple hats in music; switching from songwriter to composer to singer and producer. 

On stage he's Hael Husaini. Off stage he's Sani — soft-spoken, watchful, a self-described “fake extrovert”.

He reveals that there are two versions of himself. On stage he's Hael Husaini. Off stage he's Sani — soft-spoken, watchful, a self-described “fake extrovert”. Childhood friends would be surprised how outgoing he's become, because the younger version kept to himself entirely. 

Since then, he has developed reverse stage fright: the bigger the crowd, the more it energises him.

But give him a free week and Sani wants a houseboat, three days on the water, fishing for snakehead. He's a daydreamer—in his words, “suka berangan”—with a rich inner world he mines constantly. 

Empathy is where the process starts, he says, especially when writing for someone else. Some of his notable compositions include ‘Anta Permana’ for Dato’ Siti Nurhaliza with Ezra Kong, ‘Bukan Lagi Kita’ for Nadeera Zaini and ‘Senyum Gugur Di Hujung Doa’ for Dayang Nurfaizah, both with Iqie Hugh. 

Lately, he admits, most of his time is spent producing music for others. He’s been championing younger artists’ careers, such as Nadeera Zaini, and Alpha, the Big Stage graduates he cut a Raya single with this year.

He's clear about why he chooses to do this. “When I realised I have the power to help people, it became my purpose,” he says. He enjoys showing the younger generation of artists a path, sharing with them what he learned so they can skip the avoidable, painful bits.

If an icon is someone always reinventing, the obvious question is what he's reinventing into next. 

The elephant in the room being his highly anticipated second album. It was long reported that the next project would be called Antonim: Part II. Two songs were already written for it — ‘Peluk’, a duet with Nadeera about long-distance love, and ‘Alangkah’, its melancholic sibling. 

He previewed both at his solo concert last August, fans demanded them immediately, and his label Rocketfuel put them out early as singles. Sitting in front of me, Hael confirms — for the first time anywhere — that Antonim: Part II is no longer happening.

“I no longer want it to be an EP,” he says. “I want it to be a full album.” It’s been two years since the release of his first album. Naturally, the public have been curious over when the release date would be. I joke that he reminds me of Rihanna and her long anticipated album.

“I nak puas hati dengan lagu I sendiri.” So how does he know when a song is finished, versus when he's simply not ready to let go? “You will feel it,” he says, plainly.

He points to ‘Haram’, the duet with Dayang Nurfaizah, which was originally written as a solo ballad. Three days before the video shoot, his instincts told him something was off, and the song was reworked into the one we know today—the song that won Best Song at AJL33. Three days out from a shoot is not a comfortable place to change your mind, but he changed it anyway because he trusted his instincts.

Back to the album, the delay isn't nerves, it's the weight it carries. “I ada banyak tanggungjawab.” He feels the responsibility he has for Rocketfuel and for his team and partners that work closely with him. 

I ask if he’s ever burned himself out by the amount of pressure he puts on himself. No, he says, then grins. Not yet. “You just need to know your limits.” And before he heads back on set after a quick wardrobe change, he quips, “I like to take my sweet time!”

“I don’t like doing things I’ve already done before.”

What he promises is that the new album will not sound like anything he's done before. “I don’t like doing things I’ve already done before.” He fully expects people to go “pelik lah budak ni” (“strange boy”) and he seems delighted by the prospect. "That's the best part of making music. Always surprising people!” 

As for his critics, he's open to all opinions, filters them and uses what he can to improve his craft. “There's always a way to take it positively.” For example, he’s been criticised for wearing makeup as a man. But as far as he's concerned, a well-groomed man who takes care of himself is just another version of masculinity.

Intrigued, I ask what masculinity means to Hael Husaini. “Having the ability to not judge other men,” he says. “Be a man. Do your own shit!”

He’s also not one to shy away from a showstopping red carpet moment. A quick glance at his Instagram feed and you’re exposed to different eras of Hael Husaini. The moustachioed Hael from the ‘Jampi’ era, the K-Pop ash blonde crop from ‘Alangkah’. He’s even rocked a mullet. 

However, all of these visual experiments couldn’t have been done alone. The leading architect is Johan Kassim, his stylist of many years. “Johan was the first guy who really saw me,” he says. It was Johan who first brought him to Milan Fashion Week, which opened his eyes to how image and style can be used as a medium, and ultimately be a powerful way to connect with people. He emphasises that Malay male artists of his generation simply weren't exposed to that world. 

There's no grand plan behind the signature looks. He goes with his instincts. You can even watch the authorship happen in real time. During the shoot, he leans into the mirror and starts making tweaks to his own hair and make-up.

“He does this all the time. Normal je!,” says Miedy Daniel, his hairstylist, stepping back to let him get on with it. I ask Hael if he considers himself a perfectionist. He accepts the label without hesitation. He tells me that he had a short stint as a fashion photographer before he went into singing. 

Is there anything Hael Husaini can't do, I ask. “Masak!” he erupts in laughter. I proceed to joke about him getting a private chef to cook his meals, and he tells me he already has one — Grab. Samyang, extra-spicy, is the outer limit of his kitchen ambitions.

Since we’re on unmaterialised skills, I confess that I never learned to ride a bicycle. He gasps, scandalised. Riding a bike was one of his favourite past times growing up in Seri Menanti, a small quiet pekan in Negeri Sembilan. Does he consider himself a kampung boy? “Oh, absolutely!” 

He describes his childhood as carefree, playing outdoors with animals and even hearing tigers roaring in the distance. Growing up out of the city, he learned to be resourceful and do things on his own. His self-taught musical career, perhaps, is a natural progression.

Now, he has kids of his own. In 2017, he adopted his daughter Nur Helena, who turns nine this year. And in 2021, he adopted twin boys Haelmy and Haelman. I ask how fatherhood has changed him, and he gets serious: “Patience,” he says. Raising a trio of children, all under 10 years old, may be his biggest challenge yet. 

Not many singers have their worst professional moment preserved on tape. Hael Husaini does, and he's the one who put it online. In October 2018, he uploaded vintage 8TV footage to Instagram, captioned simply: “This is how it started. 12 years ago.” 

The clip, from 2006, shows a young Hael who has just been told he's through to the next stage of the One in a Million auditions. Then nerves take him. He attempts ‘Bad Day’ by Daniel Powter and cannot get the words out. The judges are unsparing: he had an opportunity and he wasted it. It is genuinely uncomfortable to watch. 

He's changing into the last look of the shoot, and I ask him through the changing room for him to go back to that day. If he could say one thing to the young man walking out of that 8TV audition room, what would it be? 

“Don’t be embarrassed and don't stop just because you fail.”

“Don’t be embarrassed and don't stop just because you fail.” Failure, the way he tells it, was research — how he worked out which genres suited his voice, what worked for his audience and what didn't.

After dusting himself off from the 2006 incident, Hael got back up and tried again, entering Mentor in 2009 and then Akademi Fantasia in 2013 – in the duos Evo and Azhael, respectively. But it was in 2017 that he really took off, with a solo career and the breakout song ‘Jampi’.

He never expected to become a pop star. He came up chasing power vocals and big ballad muscle, and it took a decade of controlled failures to find out what he actually was. Ask him now to describe his sound, and he'll tell you it changes daily. 

What does he think he's contributed to Malaysian music? “Dynamism.” 

Hael Husaini has always marched to his own beat, and rules were made to be broken anyway.