Showing posts with label taqwacore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label taqwacore. Show all posts

A roundtable discussion with 2 punk band members, radio host and blogger on Islam, and a religion reporter on Muslim punk

This is an edited version of a roundtable discussion between two members of the taqwacore or Muslim punk band, Kominas, a radio host and blogger who discusses Islam, and a reporter from Religion Dispatches.

TAQWACORE ROUNDTABLE: ON PUNKS, THE MEDIA, AND THE MEANING OF “MUSLIM”


Imagine standing in a copy shop, running off copies of a book you wrote. You have to distribute it yourself, and you cannot keep up with demand. Sometimes you get paid for the labor of copying and mailing. That was Michael Muhammad Knight before his novel The Taqwacores found a publisher. In 2003, Knight was pushing out an underground novel that spoke to a generation of Muslim-American youth who had no cultural home. There were pot-smoking, praying, Qur’an-reading Muslims, who would edit out sections of the Qur’an because they were “wrong” and no one could explain the text to them. 

Playing with the Arabic word “taqwa” (God-consciousness) and the punk suffix “core,” Knight gave voice a segment of the Muslim-American community. He also earned the ire of large parts of the community who were in denial that these people existed, who felt their power threatened, or who could not deal with the confusion their decisions caused. 

Following is a roundtable discussion on the Taqwacore scene among Basim Usmani and Shahjehan Khan (both members of the band the Kominas), Kaitlin Foley (radio host and erstwhile Islam blogger), and myself.  

—Hussein Rashid

Q: When we consider that the contemporary Taqwacore scene was at least partly inspired by fiction, the fact that it exists in real life today becomes even more remarkable... How do you all think the fictional and virtual origins of Taqwacore have affected the development of the Taqwacore scene so far, and how might they influence its future development?

Basim Usmani: This is funny, originally I had conceived of an all-Desi punk band called the Kominas before I began jamming with Shahj and before I even knew who Mike Knight was. My impetus was the need to appropriate the cultures around me into something that could be my own. So I wouldn’t feel weird or self-conscious listening to, or reading, or exposing myself to non-Desi elements. I hated being graded for my Desi or Muslimness. The music was born out of frustration, because of dead-end jobs, no prospects, and a huge shadow cast over me from my parents that busted their balls to provide a life for me (which I still suck at). MMK’s work helped reconcile religion into the music, and really elaborated some of the beauty and iconoclasm inherent in Islam, which I wasn’t really comfortable writing about. I wanted a Punjabi Dropkick Murphys, Mike wanted a Qallandari Rancid. Thinking about it, I like the latter better as well. Everything begins as fiction in your head, mashing up concepts and understanding how ideas can fit is important. I think the use of the Internet, quick access to media played a part in that. Not MySpace...

Kaitlin Foley: ...I can’t say Mike Knight’s The Taqwacores was a genesis for me about Islam but it was an affirmation that self-publishing was a chance to throw out the rule book and create my own. I could play around with social media to find people and ask why a fictional punk scene fascinates kids then shared my own stories with Madison street punks. Some believed me, some didn’t care for hardcore. As far as conversations about TQ in the future, I hope they will be less about identity crises and big picture modern dilemmas and more on the actual music. Maybe the new sound should be deconstructed before social media tackles Islam, Taqwacore, and punk rock all at the same time.

Hussein Rashid: Thanks BU, for the clarification. I seem to recall meeting you and having this conversation before hearing about Mike Knight’s book, but it’s good to have that confirmation. I do think the aesthetic element of your work is often overlooked. One of my favorite tracks is “I Want a Handjob,” precisely because I think it has some of the qalandari element to it. It has reverence for the family of the Prophet, and includes elements of contemporary cultural references with a good dose of sexual language. Like a good South Asian or Persian lyric, it does not have to be devotional, but can incorporate those elements. Even prior to the emergence of Taqwacore I was hesitant to label things “Islamic.” It implies a level of religiosity that may not be present and obscures other intentions and meanings in the music. I much prefer Marshall Hodgson’s construction of “Islamicate,” for things that may be influenced by Islam, but are not necessarily religious. I am curious about KF’s point about identity crisis. I never heard your music in that way. To me, it is a declaration of the multiple identifications that make your identity. It is the opposite of a crisis; a resolution perhaps. SK you talk about being ten years older, but it is fast approaching that time since the music started. Do you think that time has made a difference?

BU: I think that’s a great observation, it isn’t identity crisis. Time has definitely made a difference in terms of being in a band and touring and actually meeting people that are interested in the music we play.

KF: Sure, HR, I’ll expand. What I meant by identity crisis was that Taqwacores resolved what I think is a normal teenage phase when they found people like themselves and some shared world in punk. Maybe BU would say his story would be a goth goes Taqwacore one instead but I think it’s the same either way around—that is, in the end it’s okay the stories are different and any message might evolve with new bands and music...

Q: ...Do you believe that TQ is having an impact outside of the United States? If so, what? Why do you think it is having an appeal? If not, why? Is it the music (the genre being very particular to the Anglophone world)? the underlying thought of treating “Muhammad as punk rocker?” 

BU: What an ignorant question. Anglophone world? Punk is ten times bigger in Kuala Lampur than it ever will be in the UK, France, or Germany. Or America. No, the reason for forming the Dead Bhuttos, and the rush to put a single online was to show, at least cosmetically, that Pakistan was as capable of putting out punk rock as Turkey, Malaysia, Japan, and Lebanon. The USA is good to sell obscure Malaysian and Japanese records in, but it’s not a good place to play this kind of music. We’d do much better in South Eastern Asia, which yes, we get a lot of traffic from online. Tons of people from Singapore, Malaysia, and Indonesia add us. We’ve been covered in the major Malaysian music magazine. I think it makes more sense for us to play in Malaysia then it does to play in Europe.

Shahjehan Khan: Many things remain to be seen, but I think it would be a mistake to deny that Mike’s book is having some kind of impact in the world. We get messages frequently from bands/kids/music lovers/thinkers worldwide asking us when we are coming to their neck of the woods. If I’m not mistaken, outside of the US, our Facebook pages’ popularity has Pakistan next in line. Omar’s documentary is currently screening in the UK, so I don’t think anyone is really sure (and I’m not exactly certain how one would quantify this) who is reading, who is listening etc…

HR: Ouch. You are right BU, my question and it was poorly worded. Clearly I know the the popularity of punk, amongst other genres, outside the Anglophone world. I think Mike’s book clearly speaks to a lot of people, but as fiction there is a comfortable level of distance. You are actually making the music, and that’s really the tension I want to explore. It’s one thing to utilize the genre, it’s another to inject it with themes related to Islam. I will be honest and say that I am surprised at how well your lyrical content is taken in Muslim majority countries. With respect to Pakistan, CNN did a piece on Pakistani metal. It seemed to be a highly artificial scene, almost staged for the cameras. The concert footage in Pakistan seemed more organic. What is your sense of the music scene in Pakistan? How does it compare to South East Asia, for example?

BU: There is a much bigger music industry in Malaysia than Pakistan in a traditional sense. Pakistan probably has a lot of money and publicity in its artists, and its more likely there will be press following Pakistani artists around—but thousands and thousands of people attend concerts in Kuala Lampur, and there is already a Malaysian scene for “Western” music, you’ll find Malay skinheads, punks, metalheads, and rappers. Pakistan is mostly a place for ballads, and bhangra.

Q: Assuming international impact, are we seeing transnational connections being made? For example, the UK Asian Underground, the US/Indian Asian Massive [as the MIDIval PunditZ consider themselves to be part of Asian Massive], and the Indian Cyber Mehfil groups are all in communication with one another and often work together on projects. Is there something similar with TQ emerging?

BU: Not yet, just some contact with British Asian geezers like Asian Dub Foundation, Fun Da Mental and Alien Kulture. There are Taqwacore groups in Scotland and London, but no one has contacted us to do a tour. Most of them discourage us about setting foot in Bradford lest we become the biggest pariahs since Salman fucking Rushdie.

SK: See BU.

HR: Isn’t every good qalandar a pariah?

BU: True.

Q: Much is being made of TQ, but heavy metal, if not punk, have been a part of the musical politics of the Arab World for some time (for example, see here). What is different about TQ that it is generating such interest? Is it their origin is in the “West?” Is it South Asian?

BU: It’s the West. The media is having a circle jerk over this idea at the time, because the notion of “Muslim punk” is sexy to them. The way the racist media sees it, they can put MMK in every story as the great white grandfather to this scene of confused, destructive Muslims who’ve turned around from their ‘opressive’ culture. There’s plenty of revolutionary South Asian hip-hop out there. Humble the Poet’s father is a Sikh cab driver, and he writes about working-class life in Toronto, and remembering the 1984 golden temple massacre in India. But instead, CBC TV, the biggest broadcaster in Canada comes to us to cover us. The reason? A white man started all of it. At the same time, the music has been the most underserviced aspect of all the media on us. News stories mention the same songs, and make no note of what they sounds like. They still leave Arjun out of their writeups because he has a Hindu name, and Shahjehan Khan, our guitarist, is constantly referred to as our lead singer.

KF: In response to BU: I think the best approach for getting lost in the message and media circus surrounding Islam is to look at Taqwacore objectively as traditional news does. And many journalists do, usually getting tripped up on the exotica of talking about religion in a public way. This isn’t just a Taqwacore-specific issue, or even one with Islam, but also one of those longstanding ethical dilemmas for reporters and editors—one that makes traditional journalists crazy private about debating the issue and expect to keep doing so until the end of time. Punks and journalists have one similarity in that they are careful outside their respective circles not to lose the reputation and influence they’ve earned. So, there’s a mutual attraction and tension in Taqwacore coverage that leads to what Basim called a circle jerk.

SK: [Essentially] the same story has been circulating for a while, and it is up to us to change it now, to be responsible with this media attention. I think that the next year will be the true test of what TQ is really all about (if anything more than a group of friends). One would hope that more bands are started, I think we would all agree on that.

HR: There seems to be a long history of immigrant South Asians writing resistive poetry in the US and England. As you point out, this poetry gets very little attention. Do you really think it’s about MMK? I do notice he gets mentioned a lot in articles about the Kominas, but all of you associate together quite a bit. Although I am conscious of the myth of a “white savior” in a lot of redemption narrative, what makes you think it’s not an two-fer for the reporter? You are with MMK, so she gets to write about you and him.

BU: It’s likely a two-fer as well. I’m grateful for the association—though the scene, and the people who attend the concerts should be covered more heavily.

Q: What is the gender dynamic of TQ? Much is made of Secret Trial Five to show the gender openness of TQ, but punk is a strongly gendered-biased genre. Is TQ inheriting the liabilities of punk and patriarchal interpretations of Islam?

BU: Yes. Girls come to watch the bands but don’t play in them. It’s too bad.

SK: I don’t think it has much to do with “patriarchal interpretations of Islam,” more just the ‘reality on the ground’ if you will. We have a very sizeable female presence at our shows, but as to why there aren’t more bands, I don’t know… It’s only really been 3-4 years! I would be willing to bet that there are more out there that don’t care to publicize themselves in the way that perhaps we have.

KF: I’d agree with SK that there are more Taqwacore artists who are women out there. There’s a couple in Australia, for example. You just have to look for them because as Shahj said, they’re not talking about Taqwacore all the time. Then you also have artists like Micropixie who are part of the scene even if they don’t exactly label themselves Taqwacore.

HR: SK, my concern is that without pushing the gendered divisions early Taqwacore can inherit a lot of cultural baggage that quickly comes to define the system.

Q: In the MSM, TQ is often positioned as “Islamic Punk,” or “Muslim Punk.” While members of TQ groups are from Muslim backgrounds, are these useful labels? Is the music Islamic or Islamicate? Does the distinction mean anything? That is, does their religious identification become their identity, regardless of their own feelings on the matter? If so, why does hip-hop not get the same treatment, which also emerges from an Islamicate background?

BU: “Muslim Punk” is an awful term. I don’t believe in an afterlife, or any existence after you breathe your last breath. I think the Qur’an is man-made. But I think all art is divine, and that we men have invented these gods and written all these books. In our lyrics, there is a lot of what could be considered blasphemous content. That’s because we own these gods. We are these gods. That is what taqwacore is for me. It’s self-consciousness. It’s knowledge of self.

SK: One can’t get deny The Taqwacores being a novel about “Muslim Punks.” In the first years of the Kominas, Islam was something that we felt like writing about, but so was a Pakistani earthquake (Rabyah), or a Bollywood-style train robbery (Dishoom Bebe). I think that the term “Muslim Punk” may have been accurate initially (I would disagree with BU’s characterization as ‘awful’, seeing as we all used/abused the term to some degree), but has become more of a burden as time has gone on. Any label is usually exclusionary, and artists usually hate them. I most certainly believe in an afterlife, and would call myself a Muslim.

HR: This question of blasphemous content is so interesting, because there is such a long history of these types of lyrics and approaches in Islamicate literature. Iqbal’s Jawab-e Shikwa, while not as direct as some of your lyrics, speaks in the voice of God. That’s blasphemy. The literature of the malamati, the Sufis who sought blame for themselves, is all blasphemous. It is very much part of the tradition, although the form may change. I’m not sure blasphemous content, from a devotional perspective, is really meaningful anymore. It is most assuredly not a marker of belief. However, your declaration of (un)belief is far more important, BU and SK.

BU: I think its fair to say we draw from poetry by Bulleh Shah, Waris Shah, and the Qur’an. There’s a lot of lyrics and music that appeal to me though.

Read the complete article here.

Friday, May 14, 2021

Deaf punk poet and filmaker Sabina England on punk culture and her experience and relationship with it

Sabina England talks about a lot more than just punk rock in this interview, and I recommend reading it. Quite fascinating. But for the sake of my research, I only included what she said about punk rock and punk culture here.

Deaf Punk Playwright/Poet, Sabina England, Lets it Loose!


Krip-Hop Nation (KHN) - Hello I’m so glad you said yes to an interview!  First of all your work is beautiful.  Tell us you call yourself a Deaf Muslim Punk Playwright please explains.

Sabina England - ...Anyway, just so we are clear, I didn’t originally call myself a Deaf Muslim Punk Playwright. A Pakistani Muslim teenager in Norway who had followed my works online and was an admirer created the name of my Facebook public page.

So I was surprised to see a page about myself on there, and I became friends with her, and she talked to me about the Islamophobia, racism, xenophobia in Norway that a lot of Muslims, both immigrants and European-born youths, faced from other people. She was drawn to my works, to my anger and political awareness in my art, to my struggle existing as a Deaf South Asian Muslim woman of color immigrant punk rocker in a hearing white man’s world.

Eventually I took over the Facebook page. I like the name of the Facebook page, because it helps shows the world that I am: Deaf, Muslim, Punk, and Playwright. I wanted deaf people out there to see my name come up in results for “deaf” and see that there’s a working deaf artist who has a career in theatre, filmmaking and playwriting, these fields which are very difficult for deaf people to break into. I also wanted Muslims to find me in search results and see that there’s a Muslim woman filmmaker / artist / performer. I wanted other Muslim women to find me and enjoy my works.

And I wanted the world-- whether hearing, deaf, non-Muslim, or Muslim, to see that I am not a stereotypical “deaf and dumb” girl, or that I was NOT a “helpless  / oppressed” Muslim girl who needed to be saved....

KHN – As an author you wrote and self-published your first novel, Urdustan (A Collection of Short Stories), a book of short stories about South Asians from all walks of life.  Why did you think this book is important and tell us why you end up self-publishing it?

Sabina England – The book has many short stories and features characters from different backgrounds. There are Hindus and Muslims, Indians and Pakistanis, punk rockers and deaf youths, Hasidic Jews and gay people. All the short stories were loosely inspired by true events in my life...

KHN - Your short videos are a mixture of politics, laughter, nature and such.  Please give us a brief rundown on “Allah Save the Punk!”...

Sabina England – I made “Allah Save the Punk!” because I wanted to do a light comedy with a storyline using both punk rockers and religious extremists from a Muslim punk rock perspective. Growing up in Northern England in the 1980s, I always liked punk rock and I was just drawn to the subculture for its sheer anger and energy, but also for its political awareness. I just wanted to have fun and make other Muslims laugh at ourselves. Humor is the best medicine! We all know that one person in our community who’s a self-righteous, holier-than-thou person, and I wanted to create a self-righteous character that is so full of themselves and so extreme in their beliefs. I created the Mullah, who was so religious and holy, but somehow ended up with a punk rock daughter. That’s pretty funny, right?!

Also the title “Allah Save the Punk!” was inspired from “God Save the Queen” by Sex Pistols...


KHN - On your website it says you are apart of S.O.S Records, an underground Los Angeles streetpunk label, and have often been linked to the Taqwacores scene.  Please explain.

Sabina England – I was a friend with Rob Chaos, the lead singer from Total Chaos, we became friends on MySpace in the mid 00s and stayed in touch. He liked some of my posts and liked my attitude so he asked me to be the face of S.O.S Records, they printed out promotional flyers with my face and put it up at punk shows everywhere! I was also asked to appear in Taqwacore (the documentary) and I said no because I had some problems at the time and I didn’t feel ready to do the project. So they used one of my photos (with my permission) and put it in the film. So ever since then a lot of people have associated me with both.

Read the whole interview here.

Sunday, March 28, 2021

Guardian article on Muslim punk

Like the title says, this is a Guardian article on Taqwacore or Muslim punk...

Islamic street preachers

From Boston to Lahore and beyond, the tentacles of taqwacore - aka Islamic punk rock - are spreading. And it's giving disenfranchised young Muslims a voice.

by Riazat Butt

There can't be that many female playwrights who are deaf, punk and Muslim, so Sabina England is something of a find. With a lurid Mohawk and leather jacket slathered with slogans, she looks every inch the rebel and has an attitude to match.

Sabina, who says she lives in the "shitty midwest of the United States" or the "HELL-HOLE OF BOREDOM AND YUPPIES", is part of a subculture that, until a few years ago, existed only on paper.


The Taqwacores - a novel about a fictitious Muslim punk scene in the US - has spawned an actual movement that is being driven forward by young Muslims worldwide. Some bands - such as the Kominas - have a cult following. Others, such as Sabina, are virtually unknown. In a brief email exchange, she lays out some harsh truths.


You're a playwright. What do you write about?

"I write plays about fucked up people in fucked up situations, because we're all fucked up human beings that live in a fucked up society. People need to quit whining and shut up and realise that we're all freaks, whether we admit it or not."

Where are your ideas from?

"Being a deaf woman from an Indian Muslim family growing up in both England and the US, I've never felt I fit in or belonged anywhere. So I was always forced to be an outsider, and because of this, I'd just watch people and observe their actions and words. I guess a lot of my ideas come from my alienation and anger."

How well known is the taqwacore phenomenon where you are?

"Muslims around here would rather act like a model minority and don't really want to rattle anybody's chain. I really want to move to New York City, if I can get my plays produced there. Unfortunately it seems many theatre companies are too scared to do my works, or think I only cater to Indians and Pakistanis and won't attract white people. But they're fucking wrong, and they can't see beyond racial boundaries. Fucking worthless piece of shites."

What does taqwacore mean to you?

"It means being true to myself, having my own faith, and interpreting Islam the way I want to, without feeling guilty or being looked down at by other Muslims."

What is the future for taqwacore?

"It's gonna get bigger. A lot of Muslim kids are tired of being told what to do, how to think, what to believe in, and how to act, by their parents. There are 'the angry muslim kids' who wanna grow beards and pray five times a day, and then there are the OTHER 'angry Muslim kids' who wanna get drunk and say a huge big 'fuck you' to the Muslim population. Or maybe they just don't care and wanna sit at home and not think about Osama's video speeches about how America is the Great Satan."

How her words would fare with Michael Muhammad Knight, author of The Taqwacores and an unwitting idol to the young and restless, is anyone's guess. Knight, who is 29 and lives in New York with his dog Sunny - "not as in Sunni Muslim" - downplays his achievement of single-handedly inspiring this subculture that has produced artists such as the Kominas, Secret Trial Five, Vote Hezbollah, Al-Thawra, 8-Bit and Diacritical.


"There was a scene already," says Knight modestly, whose next novel will be titled Osama Van Halen. "I just gave it a name. There were kids out there, doing their thing. I don't think of it as a movement, though, just a group of friends supporting each other."

Knight wrote the book to deal with his own issues. He converted to Islam as a teenager and admits he "burned out" from being so religious. "I was so intense. I felt Islam was so black and white and there were no grey areas. These Muslim kids, who are punks, they are in these grey areas."

The kids he refers to have all devoured Knight's work, some taking it literally.

"One kid," he says, "thought the book was non-fiction and thought that stuff in the book actually happened. He got in touch. He said if it wasn't real, that he would make it real." He sounds worried by the suggestion that his book will be a manifesto for Muslim punks. "If the scene develops, I don't want it to be based on my book."

The words stable, door, horse and bolt spring to mind. Some Muslims are deeming his book to be nothing short of a revelation. "When I read The Taqwacores," says Basim Usmani, frontman of The Kominas, "all my reservations about Islam melted away."


Usmani was born in New York and moved around the US when he was growing up. "I had this identity that stretched way further back than these disenfranchised white kids I was hanging out with, but they were the ones who showed me the most respect. I entered America where I was weird and, when I went back to Pakistan, I was weird there too. I was too Pakistani to be American and too American to be Pakistani."

His aggression was ongoing, although he freely admits his rage didn't come from social dynamics. "In Boston I was middle class. In Pakistan, where I am now, I am definitely upper class. But the poverty here is intense and that makes me angry."

Basim first played with Boston-based outfit Malice In Leatherland, supporting horror punk band the Misfits. It was during this time that he heard about Knight's book.

"I read the book and I'm amazed. I send him an email and he called. I saw a lot of myself in it. Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a story." Neither he nor his taqwacore comrades confess to embracing the more debauched antics of the novel - which has one character urinating over the Qur'an and then reading from it and a female Muslim veil-wearing punk, performing oral sex, onstage, in front of 200 people.

Understandably, Usmani was nervous approaching Shahjehan Khan, also in the Kominas, about the book. "I didn't know how he would react, he's not punk, but he was cool about it. He read it in one day. You could say it was a catalyst for the Kominas." Their songs are irreverent and un-PC. His favourite track, he says with a snigger, is "I Want A Handjob" - a jibe at Pakistani rockers Junoon (who launched a Muslims For Bush campaign for the 2004 elections).


Usmani left the US just as the Kominas were breaking through into mainstream culture. But he has a new band - the Dead Bhuttos, a variation on the Dead Kennedys (who released their first single through the independent record label Alternative Tentacles, the very label that picked up Knight's book for distribution).

A future project, hopes Usmani, will be a Punjabi version of the Billy Bragg song There Is Power In A Union. "I'd like it to be a song for the Pakistani workers 'cos they don't really have one," he muses.

The Kominas, currently on a gigging hiatus, will tour later this year in North America. "It seems weird to leave just when we were on the brink. If I'd stayed then I would have been playing to sympathetic white liberals. I didn't want that. In Pakistan, people want to rebel against the police and religious authority and punk is the perfect way to do that."

He's put a downpayment on a bus and decorated it with the shahadah [the Muslim declaration in the oneness of God]. "I have no idea how we're going to get it through customs."

Meanwhile, Khan is in Boston mixing the Kominas debut album: "We've put some EPs out but this is our first official release. There will be remixes of our old stuff like Suicide Bomb The Gap."


Khan says he looks like a typical engineer - with glasses and a goatee - and comes from a comfortable, middle-class background. But he appreciates what taqwacore has done for him. "I was like, where has this book been all my life? None of us know where taqwacore is going or what's going to happen. It is a subculture that could influence culture in general. It's nice to be part of something at the beginning."

One of the newest recruits to the taqwacore scene is Secret Trial Five, from Vancouver. Lead vocalist Sena Hussain, 25, took her inspiration directly from the Kominas. "We saw them play and we were all into punk music anyway. We haven't had a chance to rattle some cages, we only got together last summer, but I expect we will. That's the point of punk."


Proposed title tracks include Hey, Hey, Guantanamo Bay and Emo-hurram, a pun on the first month of the Islamic calendar. And, in a male-dominated culture, she thinks they will face challenges from all sides. "It's another thing that drives us," she says, "Muslim women are seen as helpless and oppressed. We want to prove that wrong. I used to sport a mohawk, I don't now, but we will totally play up the punk thing.

"There's so much animosity towards Muslims and we need a dissenting voice to say 'fuck you' to people who pigeonhole us." Hussain, who is looking for a new guitarist, adds: "It's only fitting that we identify ourselves as taqwacore, that's where we got our inspiration from, and I think that's the way the genre will grow - and I hope it does."

· Riazat Butt presents Islamophonic, www.theguardian.com/islamophonic


Punk's Not Dead