Davide Zeta is a singer-songwriter who moves through music the way some people move through the world—restless, curious, never fully still.
He grew up in a house filled with funk and soul, sounds that hit before they could be understood.
Rhythm came first, like a pulse you don’t question. As a kid he was unpredictable, always in motion, testing limits without really thinking about them.
Then something shifted. Life forced a slowdown—sudden, sharp. Not enough to stop the movement, but enough to change its direction.
He found structure in percussion.
Studied it, pushed it, took it far—until precision became second nature. But precision alone was never the point. There was always something underneath, trying to break out of it.
That’s where the songs come from.
A constant tension between control and instinct.
Between what is learned and what refuses to be contained.
Not a fixed identity, but a path that keeps unfolding.
This is not a finished story.
It’s the moment where things begin to take shape—and where you’re already part of it, whether you realize it or not.