“Be Ye Lil Gods” Is Eva Zakula’s Map to Inner Weather

Eva Zakula moves through LA as if she’s mastered the art of turning daily life into a slow ritual. Her mornings begin with Lavender Honey Spice at M Street Coffee, afternoons slip between art posts and studio sessions, and nights belong to The LA Flakes, her all-women rock band that plays like they’ve got something to prove but no one to impress.

She is translating moods. One day it’s Stevie Wonder, the next it’s Wolfmother, with echoes of Julie London and Chaka Khan weaving through. Her playlist feels like a fever dream of influences that shouldn’t fit together but somehow do, stitched by instinct and an aversion to playing it safe.

Zakula’s backstory runs deep: Bay Area hymn-slinger, frontwoman of her first teenage band Eva and The Handsome’s, USC School of Dramatic Arts alum, and now a fixture in Los Angeles’ night circuit. Her catalogue brims with songs that feel lived-in. No polish for its own sake, just a steady stream of songs that sound like they were written mid-walk, mid-revelation, mid-something real.

“Be Ye Lil Gods” is a kind of field guide for those seeking to reconnect with their inner weather. Zakula speaks of unlearning the technical, discarding mould, and writing from a place more spiritual than strategic. Each track carries a personal imprint, tied to her journey of self-discovery and the spiritual practices that reshaped her craft. The result is music that embraces vulnerability without letting go of strength.

The first track, “High,” drops us into a soundscape far from typical, a low-key drone and pulse that walks the rare line between gritty and meditative. Picture chic cyberpunk colliding with a Buddha Bar chillout session, and you’re close. By track two, “Lucy,” the palette broadens: psychedelic funk and R&B textures start to seep in, laying the emotional groundwork for what’s to come.

By track five, “Warm Breath,” the sonic world stretches wider still: postmodern bossa whispers, jazz-fusion murmurs, and a quiet maximalism that never feels forced. Eva makes it clear this isn’t pop as we know it. That label falls away early, and with good reason.

The sheer range of textures and styles woven through “Be Ye Lil Gods” feels transcendent, reshaping genres in Eva’s hands.

The album invites us into our own mythologies, urging us to lead with unflinching softness and remember that strength doesn’t always require volume. “Be Ye Lil Gods” is a quiet dare to feel deeply, take risks, and let yourself glow.

CONNECT WITH EVA ZAKULA ON INSTAGRAM @evazakula