South China Morning Post
August 24, 2005
Budding rock stars fail to strike a chord with Islamic officials
Robert Tait in Tehran
The soaring guitar solos and haunting keyboard melodies bear the
unmistakable influence of Pink Floyd, Yes, Deep Purple and other
icons of 1970s rock. But while they may have emulated their heroes'
musical virtuosity, the Norik Misakian Band is unlikely to follow
them on the path to world fame and fortune.
As one of hundreds of Iranian rock acts springing up in the face of
official disapproval, the group has never been allowed to play a live
gig. And far from coveting the hedonistic lifestyles that are the
hallmarks of western rock stars, its four members have all but given
up hope of earning a living from their music.
Now they are trying to breach the cultural and bureaucratic barriers
separating them from a mass audience by seeking permission to release
their first album.
They are doing so in the face of deep mistrust from Iran's Islamic
authorities, who regard rock music as a symbol of western decadence
and political protest .
"We are swimming against the tide and we anticipate that it might be
impossible," said Misakian, 34, the band's lead guitarist and song
writer.
"There are so many problems in trying to gain permission to release
music and very often the band gives up. But we won't give up."
The ministry of culture and Islamic guidance has already rejected the
10-track instrumental album - carrying the English title Trails of
the Soul - saying rock music is influenced by drugs.
Undaunted, the group has reapplied for permission in what will be a
crucial test of the cultural climate under Iran's ultraconservative
new president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. They are trying to persuade
authorities that their aims are musical, not political.
One track, Genocide, is an ode to the murder of more than 1 million
ethnic Armenians by Turkey during the first world war. Three of the
band's members are of Armenian descent.
If it is approved, the band intends to distribute the album in
Europe, the US and Persian Gulf states, as well as to outlets in
Iran.
Without approval, they will never be allowed to perform before a live
audience. Only artists that have been allowed to release CDs can seek
permission to perform live.
"It's impossible to make a living from rock music in Iran," said
Edvin Markarien, 30, the band's bass player. "You don't play to get
rich. You can't play for the joy of playing live. In the end, you are
just playing for yourself. It's art for art's sake."
His sentiments reflect the plight of dozens of rock acts across Iran.
Some have overcome the obstacles by setting up websites to distribute
their songs. Others organise secret concerts in makeshift venues,
risking a lashing if caught.
The restrictions, however, do not appear to have acted as a
deterrent. A contest organised by an unofficial cultural website,
Tehran Avenue, to find the most promising new Iranian music acts, has
attracted 86 entrants, more than 80 per cent of which are rock bands.
August 24, 2005
Budding rock stars fail to strike a chord with Islamic officials
Robert Tait in Tehran
The soaring guitar solos and haunting keyboard melodies bear the
unmistakable influence of Pink Floyd, Yes, Deep Purple and other
icons of 1970s rock. But while they may have emulated their heroes'
musical virtuosity, the Norik Misakian Band is unlikely to follow
them on the path to world fame and fortune.
As one of hundreds of Iranian rock acts springing up in the face of
official disapproval, the group has never been allowed to play a live
gig. And far from coveting the hedonistic lifestyles that are the
hallmarks of western rock stars, its four members have all but given
up hope of earning a living from their music.
Now they are trying to breach the cultural and bureaucratic barriers
separating them from a mass audience by seeking permission to release
their first album.
They are doing so in the face of deep mistrust from Iran's Islamic
authorities, who regard rock music as a symbol of western decadence
and political protest .
"We are swimming against the tide and we anticipate that it might be
impossible," said Misakian, 34, the band's lead guitarist and song
writer.
"There are so many problems in trying to gain permission to release
music and very often the band gives up. But we won't give up."
The ministry of culture and Islamic guidance has already rejected the
10-track instrumental album - carrying the English title Trails of
the Soul - saying rock music is influenced by drugs.
Undaunted, the group has reapplied for permission in what will be a
crucial test of the cultural climate under Iran's ultraconservative
new president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. They are trying to persuade
authorities that their aims are musical, not political.
One track, Genocide, is an ode to the murder of more than 1 million
ethnic Armenians by Turkey during the first world war. Three of the
band's members are of Armenian descent.
If it is approved, the band intends to distribute the album in
Europe, the US and Persian Gulf states, as well as to outlets in
Iran.
Without approval, they will never be allowed to perform before a live
audience. Only artists that have been allowed to release CDs can seek
permission to perform live.
"It's impossible to make a living from rock music in Iran," said
Edvin Markarien, 30, the band's bass player. "You don't play to get
rich. You can't play for the joy of playing live. In the end, you are
just playing for yourself. It's art for art's sake."
His sentiments reflect the plight of dozens of rock acts across Iran.
Some have overcome the obstacles by setting up websites to distribute
their songs. Others organise secret concerts in makeshift venues,
risking a lashing if caught.
The restrictions, however, do not appear to have acted as a
deterrent. A contest organised by an unofficial cultural website,
Tehran Avenue, to find the most promising new Iranian music acts, has
attracted 86 entrants, more than 80 per cent of which are rock bands.