Political Pakistani Punk vs. Psychedelic Post Punk

Barack Obama wants to talk about “mutual interests” between America and Muslims? Truth is that in punk rock the exchange has been going on under everyone’s noses. This is a review — by a non-punker — of two punk rock bands from different parts of the world — Pakistan and Brooklyn — who recently put out new albums, both of which are colored by Islamic themes.

No one really knows the roots of the word “punk.” Etymologically it may have been derived from “spunk.” It also might be an archaic word for prostitute. In the 70’s the word used to mean something like a thug or ruffian and then became connected to a simpler form of rock music with shorter songs, stripped down instrumentation and a harder edge — punk rock. Peace through histrionics.

“Punk rock” has also become a cultural marker. Nowadays anything that doesn’t conform to the amorphous mainstream and has a bit of rebellious edge gets tagged with the title. Ultimately, what is punk rock is as impossible as trying to figure out what is America or what is Islam: there are some vague general principles but ultimately self-identification of adherents is the only way to make the determination. In short: you are punk if that’s what you call yourself . Suffice it to say that the Lahore based band The Kominas — a play on the Punjabi word kamina or scoundrel — and Brooklyn based Blacklist both consider themselves to be musically and culturally engaged in punk rock.

The Kominas

I came across The Kominas latest effort, Wild Nights in Guantanamo Bay, after getting cyber-stalked by lead vocalist Basim Usmani, who is kind of like an equally annoying inverse of Darby Crash. (Really: this was the first time I had to use the “invisible” feature on my chat to hide from a male and — speak of the Satan — as I write this, I am getting another one of his partially Punjabi IM’s).

Wild Nights is an interesting effort. It takes the angst and insult The Kominas previously reserved for Muslim leaders and spreads it around, targeting corporate behemoths like Walmart (whom they call Walqueda), the U.S. War on Terror, and a media culture which has mercilessly caricatured the Muslim male as a violent simpleton.

The song, “Sharia in the USA”, which recalls swing and The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, gets to criticizing the pervasive anti-Muslim tenor of the media straight away: “I am an Islamist!” it opens. “I am the anti-Christ/Most Squares can’t make most wanted lists/But my, my how I stay in style.” Meanwhile, in “Blow Shit Up” angsty Muslim alienation becomes a jocular rebuke to paranoid westerners: “I don’t want assimilation/I just wanna blow shit up!” Upon hearing that only a rickety old right-winger living in a state of strait-jacket repression would think that Muslims don’t know how to joke.

This new willingness to go beyond merely shocking pious Muslims is refreshing. Now the shock — the punking if you will — is like the ejaculation rain in EL Doctorow’s novel Ragtime. It is nasty but leaves you smiling.

The more assured flame-throwing in Wild Nights came about because The Kominas decided to leave the U.S. and relocate to Lahore, Pakistan. Getting out of the often infantile world of American Islam was — no surprise there — really good for their growth. I hope for their sake they stay far away from America.

The Pakistani flavor of the album is the most refreshing element of the album. In the song “Par Desi” it manifests itself in the form of a sweet bhangra opening that gets straight into one’s shoulders (making them bounce). In the song “9000 Miles”, which reminded me of 311 and is easily my favorite track, that flavor comes out in the form of a beautiful tabla lead-in that connects to a folk Punjabi beat that evokes farms, kite flying festivals and peasant life. In the song “Dishoom Baby” it occurs in the form of entire verses in Punjabi, incorporating the language’s legendary facility with swear words.

Technically, it is apparent that The Kominas are still experimenting with various streams within punk rock as songs vary in style and pace. Aficionados of musical history will have plenty of discussion to have about the multiplicity of influences.

All in all Wild Nights in Guantanamo Bay is a more grown up effort than The Kominas’ debut. The insults are premeditated but not too polished. The lecherous parts — like the description of polygamist orgy — are wicked but subtle. The anti-authoritarianism is fun but relevant to the complex political landscape that Muslims inhabit.

For an album that I had to have my arm twisted to hear I confess I put it on with a fair degree of regularity.

Wild Nights in Guantanamo Bay

AE non-punker rating: 3.9/5.0

Blacklist

Let’s just say that when I went to the Blacklist album release party — I was invited by lead vocalist Josh Strawn — I thought I had stepped into a scene from a vampire film like Underworld or Blade. Girls had white painted faces; guys had the emo thing going on; and the fog looked a little too real. I had gone alone and felt out of place. To make myself feel better I started talking to the only other minority I saw: a Dominican girl from the Bronx who had been dragged out by her “white” friends. We both concurred that this was not our scene and talked about hip-hop.

Then I heard the music. It was way different from The Kominas’ political rage. It was pretty. Like something that should be called romantic rock. It had a little bit of glam to it. It was like a late 80’s post punk interpretation of psychedelia which some people might call goth. I noticed that even as the songs talked about a demon haunted world and dark angels rising, there was a warmth in them that contradicted the eerie atmosphere in the club. I couldn’t tell what it was that was stirring in me so I figured the best way to find out would be to go directly to Strawn.

The answer quickly became apparent. Blacklist’s debut album, Midnight of the Century, is infused by elements of Islam’s Sufi, or mystical, strain. The hands down best song on the album is called “The Believer” and is a piece of original poetry — “She came from out of nowhere/made all the colors from the Light” — reminiscent of Muslim poets like Hafiz, in which the beloved could be a metaphor for God. In fact, in the liner notes the song opens with a beautiful quote from Rumi: “You can’t call the unbeliever an infidel if he’s been the latest victim of Love.” I listened closely to the song and it contains a reference to a “smokeless fire” — a play on the Quranic idea of the smokeless flame. I realized that I was feeling the music because it contained deep, almost subliminal connections to a theology that I had grown up with. I took the album home.

Great idea. Midnight is an excellent album. For a debut it is exquisitely streamlined and stylistically cohesive. The track “Language of the Living Dead” is a Lacanian critique of the way we lose our individuality. “Odessa” is a love song and a goodbye to a Europe that no longer exists. Although Strawn’s major influences are The Chameleons, Pink Floyd and Sisters of Mercy, the album has definite echoes of Bowie, The Cure and Interpol. Just out of curiosity I went on a website that auto-generates similar artist lists. When I entered The Cure into the search box Blacklist was one of the artists listed in their column.

It is on the level of poetry that the two bands differ. The Cure is whimsical while Blacklist is darkly spiritual. This is attributable to Strawn’s deep immersion in Sufi writings such as Attar’s Conference of the Birds. I momentarily spoke to Strawn about this influence and was surprised to learn of the sensitivity — and nerdiness — with which he approaches Islam: “[It] offers a very eloquent and anti-Platonic way of understanding transcendence that seems to me far more advanced than the Western way of thinking about divinity, truth, religion, or the human’s relation to the material world.”

The unitarian spirit that Strawn, who is not Muslim, found in Islamic literature — where the singular self is not abstracted from the divine essence — is what, I think, gives Midnight of the Century its cohesive feel. It makes me hope that we might be getting to that point in our culture where Islamic history is not a source of fear but one of beauty. It is a double pleasure that this synthesis sounds so good.

Midnight of the Century

AE non-punker rating: 4.2/5.0

Ali Eteraz is the author of the prose work, Children of Dust, forthcoming in October (HarperOne).