In these countries music was banned, but artists still found a way

Banning songs on the radio is one thing, but in some countries music has been banned altogether.

The power of music to provoke and unite has long been a double-edged sword. Whether for religious, political or moral reasons, songs that challenge the status quo are often silenced. The BBC refused to play the Sex Pistols’ “God Save the Queen,” the United States banned the Beatles’ songs, China banned K-pop out of concern for its global influence, Nazi Germany banned jazz, and Brazil’s military government censored 500 songs between 1964 and 1985.

Some bans, however, have been more radical. When the Taliban regained power in Afghanistan in 2021, they reinstated the previous ban on music. Yet despite these restrictions, music’s ability to defy repression continues to resonate around the world.

“(A) government can restrict all the types of music it likes, but music will continue to be made,” says Marianne Franklin, author Global Music Politics: Whose Playlist for Tough Times?.

The Year the Music Stood Still

In 1975, the Khmer Rouge, a radical communist movement, began a reign of terror in Cambodia. Citizens were stripped of their homes, property, and culture, and anyone who might challenge the new regime, including intellectuals and artists, was killed. Over the course of four years, the Khmer Rouge erased much of Cambodia’s rich cultural heritage, including its music.

Before what was called Year Zero, Cambodia enjoyed a golden age of music in the 1960s and early 1970s. Dance floors were full of men in smart suits and women in miniskirts, dancing to psychedelic melodies inspired by the rock ‘n’ roll sounds that drifted over the airwaves from American boats stationed in the South China Sea. Cambodian artists like pop star Sin Sisamouth were household names. Although some tried to preserve their musical heritage by hiding records, the rule of the Khmer Rouge made it nearly impossible to preserve this vibrant culture.

“When music is banned, we lose these benefits, which leads to a significant emotional and psychological void,” says Ehab Youseff, a psychotherapist based in Egypt.

Now, decades later, Cambodia is beginning to reclaim its lost musical heritage. Gong, Cambodia’s largest arts and culture center, has just opened 37 miles northeast of Phnom Penh. With a state-of-the-art recording studio and a 140-seat auditorium, Gong aims to celebrate, preserve and revitalize Cambodian music, documenting traditional Khmer music while supporting new artists with cutting-edge technology.

Singer-songwriter Lomorkesor Rithy, known as Kesorrr, was one of the first to perform at The Gong. Growing up with Western music, she later wanted to explore Cambodia’s golden era and co-founded Plerng Kob, a creative center, and Bonn Phum, an annual cultural festival. After the war, Lomorkesor says the Cambodian music scene consisted of covers and karaoke singers. “Now we have (original) pop, rock, R&B and hip-hop,” he says. “There was a time when we lost our identity. We have to start from scratch and find sounds again.”

The Cambodian diaspora is also spreading the word. American band Dengue Fever, featuring Cambodian singer Chhom Nimol, released their album Ting Mong in 2023, inspired by Cambodian music of the 1960s. Their success in Europe and the US and appearances on Cambodian television underline the global interest in Cambodia’s musical heritage.

Zac Holtzman, the band’s co-founder, said they were surprised by the response they received during their Cambodia tour. “One guy, who was almost in tears, said that Cambodia has been in a bad state for a while now and it’s really good for us to be remembered, that we have beautiful music and that it hasn’t been forgotten.”

Performing behind closed doors

While Cambodia is working to revive its musical heritage, other countries continue to toe the line between artistic expression and government restrictions. In the 1960s and 1970s, Saudi Arabia actively promoted the arts. However, this changed dramatically in 1979, when al-Jamaa al-Salafiya al-Muhtasiba, led by a preacher, took over the Grand Mosque in Mecca. Soon after, the Saudi government adopted a more conservative stance, closing cinemas and banning public musical performances.

For Emad Ashour, a 44-year-old from Jeddah, the move meant pursuing his passion for music behind closed doors. Inspired by Western bands like Metallica and Kiss, Ashour taught himself to play guitar, eventually forming heavy metal band Immortal Pain in 2005. “Back then, there was no internet, so I started teaching myself, took some lessons and studied books.”

Ashour and his band became part of the underground heavy metal scene, performing only in private venues due to a lack of official permits.

A new era began with the accession of a new king in 2015, leading to rapid change as Saudi Arabia sought to diversify its economy away from oil. In 2017, Riyadh hosted its first live concert in 25 years. Soon after, the country began construction on a 20,000-seat sports and entertainment arena near the UNESCO World Heritage site of Diriyah. International stars such as Post Malone have performed in the kingdom, and the Soundstorm festival, a four-day desert rave where men and women dance together without division, has become a major event.

(Inside Japan’s Live Music Revolution.)

In 2021, Immortal Pain became the first heavy metal band to perform publicly at a major event, Comic Con Arabia, in Jeddah. “There was no fear,” Ashour says. “There was excitement that our music was finally being appreciated.”

Since their concert, other heavy metal bands have performed, including Metallica and the all-female Saudi psychedelic rock band Seera, who performed in Riyadh.

“You could say we’re a little jealous because it’s easier now,” Ashour says. “But we’re proud of what happened in the ’90s, the struggle to find (underground) places to play. That was exciting.”

Finding a new rhythm

Saudis and Cambodians are not the only ones who have experienced severe restrictions on their music. In Iran, the 1979 revolution brought music to an abrupt halt because the new Shiite Islamic leaders believed it was corrupting the youth. Traditional music could be played within months, but Western songs and solo female singers were no longer culturally acceptable.

(Hear 30 Years of Climate Change Translated into Heartbreaking Music.)

Now, 45 years later, Iranian classical, folk and pop music fills the airwaves, and street musicians can be seen on the streets of Tehran. Western electronic musician Schiller even performed in Tehran in 2017. But not all artists are free to perform openly. Solo female singers can appear on The Voice Persia, but the show is filmed in Sweden. Rap ​​music, meanwhile, has gained popularity, but artists who write lyrics that the authorities consider threatening can be imprisoned.