November 14-2014
Popular music has moved above ground in one of the major cultural changes made by the Rohani Administration.
Pop bands can now receive licenses for performances in government owned halls. Back in January when the change was announced, many people believed the announcement was just for effect and few bands would ever see a license or would have to jump through hoops to get them. But in fact, many bands have received licenses for concerts and sometimes they are issued very quickly.
But there are rules, of course.
You will see pyrotechnics. But you won’t see the performers dancing or running all over the stage.
You will see women singing. But they will be in the background and never the primary singer.
The lyrics must all be cleared in advance by the censor. And the general rule is to avoid any controversial social topics and all political topics.
Surprisingly, you will see performers in vests and large hats like American country-western artists. Maybe the censors have never seen Willie Nelson!
It’s been 10 months since the Rohani Administration agreed to allow pop and rock bands to come out of the basement and perform legitimately. There have been some objections from the right, but they haven’t been as loud or as frequent as one might have expected.
Other cultural changes have come under very harsh criticism from the right. Lessened film censorship, lax dress code enforcement, and easing the strictures on campuses have all raised a cacophony of objection from the right.
But music seems to be sliding by. Boy, would Elvis be surprised!
One of the biggest bands on the Tehran scene is Thunder with lead singer Ardavan Anzabipour. He acknowledges he has had to tone things down to keep getting licenses for each concert.
“People want to see some action on stage, but we must be careful not to overdo it,” Anzabipour told Bloomberg news last month before the band’s debut show in Dubai. “It’s a challenge. We bring the excitement up but they’re not able to move” as dancing in public is banned, he said.
Sanam Pasha, Thunder’s 36-year-old female vocalist, is careful to style her image appropriately. She has to respect Iran’s dress code and appear, by local standards, neither too passionate nor sultry.
“Stepping right and left if it appears too rhythmic is no good. Sometimes it’s preferable to not even smile,” Pasha said. “Making sure my scarf isn’t sliding requires energy, too.”
And while her voice can be distinctly heard on stage, she must make sure it doesn’t rise above Anzabipour’s — or at least only very briefly.
Unlike rock bands around the world that have become focal points for teenage dissent or radical politics, Thunder’s songs—many sung in English and infused with the twang of US country music—don’t seek to challenge the authorities or social sensibilities.
“I don’t have an interest in putting my finger on topics that fuel tension. What’s the point of that?” said Anzabipour, who wears his hair in a long ponytail. “Our lyrics tease a bit but they respect the red lines. We don’t play around with matters that are sensitive. We are careful not to question people’s religious belief, not to question public convictions.”
Lyrics have to be approved by officials at the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance.
Following the revolution, authorities attempted to ban western pop music, but it never really worked, although the bands were forced underground, playing in basements, warehouses and other locations that kept the sound indoors.
Thunder evolved from a four-member group playing instrumental music into one doing covers of “Ain’t Goin’ Down” by Garth Brooks or Joan Baez’s “Diamonds and Rust,” while also composing its own music.
For almost a decade it played gigs at small, private venues in an effort to avoid too much attention from authorities. Publicity was word-of-mouth—no fliers or newspaper ads. In January, all that changed when the Culture Ministry granted permission for Thunder and other bands to stage public concerts.
Anzabipour says the songs the band writes are inspired by observations of Iranian society, though they might have some resonance abroad. “Mr. Morgen” describes an elderly Iranian expat who returns to his homeland to search for a young, chaste bride after decades overseas. “Enjoy the Press” tells of individuals propelled to power through privileged access to the media.
Rohani’s government “makes efforts and wants all genres of music in the country to develop—traditional Iranian music, classical and pop,” said Dariush Pirniakan, the spokesman for the House of Music, an independent body that supports musicians. “But there is another current from within the establishment that can put brakes on the process.”
Anzabipour says it’s too early to grow complacent. “The only sad thing is that we don’t know how long it’ll last,” he said. “We don’t know how much freedom we’ll have and until when.”
