Loud and proud

The Kominas perform on the last night of their US tour in Lowell, Massachusetts.

The Boston-based Islamic punk rockers The Kominas are at the forefront of a musical movement that offers a new outlet for young Muslims, writes Rebecca Conway The satire-laced, politically wired Islamic punk-rock outfit The Kominas are bridging a gap between Islam and the West, using South Asian influences on an American wavelength and giving young Muslims a new voice. The group's guitarist, Shahjehan Khan, says: "We want to show punk is for everyone. We have done a really good job in breaking that barrier between musician and audience that good punk music tries to emphasise."

To some, their subject matter and style are provocative, but their aim is sound - to develop an Islam-inspired punk movement that can channel the frustrations and explore the identity of young Muslims. The Boston-based Punjabi rock group currently comprises Khan, Basim Usmani, Arjun Ray and Imran Malik. They have just completed a month-long US tour that has taken them from New York to Los Angeles and back again.

Usmani says: "We're definitely seeing an influx of young kids that are both desi [members of the subcontinental diaspora] and punk, some in hijab and turbans, but some not." Even before The Kominas found international recognition with their first US tour in 2007, Usmani had decided to take their particular brand of Islamic punk in a new direction - in a country more used to slickly produced, corporate pop and anthemic Bollywood.

Inspired by a global rash of newly conceived Islamic punk movements, he returned to his roots in Lahore, Pakistan, in 2006. "Before leaving for Pakistan, I had seen videos of the punk scene in Malaysia, which I had always been envious of. I wanted to spark up a Pakistani punk scene. "The goal of my move to Lahore was to ditch the American Kominas, learn Punjabi and create something more Pakistani, and yet more punk in the process."

Joined by Khan in 2008, the pair formed the band Noble Drew, staged a series of free gigs in Lahore and the Pakistani capital of Islamabad, and began to develop the punk scene that Usmani had envisaged. "We came close to achieving what I wanted all along. We played some shows, a few were forgettable. But a few were legendary. For that moment, I know we struck a chord." Khan reveals that the band's outlook and subject matter altered to accommodate public sensitivities in Pakistan.

"People in a Muslim country don't question their identity in that way. The US is more open to criticism: in Pakistan that's a little more dangerous." Their music sharpened towards Pakistani comment, sparked by a raft of problems plaguing not just an up-and-coming rock movement but also much of Pakistan's 170 million-plus population. Power cuts plague Pakistan's cities for up to 12 hours a day, and electricity generators are expensive to buy and run in the face of constantly inflating fuel costs - something Khan cites as just one of the many difficulties encountered when staging gigs.

"There are also no bars or clubs; we needed a generator for every show. We had to work full-time to support what we were doing, and a nine-to-five office job earns nowhere near what it does in America." Singing in Punjabi and English and inspired by Islamic Sufi culture, Pakistani history and classical poetry, Noble Drew collaborated with a raft of nationally renowned musicians and adapted their style to reach out to their new Pakistani audience.

Usmani says: "We showed that there is an alternative to the glossy, pretty-boy rock that is endemic to that region. Rock 'n' roll doesn't have to sound awkwardly American in Lahore. You can make it Pakistani." And the punk ideology has remained. They rebel against society and parts of their culture while giving audiences a snapshot of a different side of American life. Khan and Usmani also tried to dispel myths among the Pakistani population about life in the West by providing a common medium.

Usmani says: "I think we gave people in Pakistan some perspective on how strange and unique people out west can be, when most people in Pakistan think of Pamela Anderson when they think of America." Gigs in the city's upmarket Gulberg district drew reasonable crowds for an event publicised only a few days before and largely relying on mobile phone texts and Facebook to spread the word. But it was performances in Lahore's poorer, conservative Hira Maandi district that struck the greatest chord with both the audience and the band.

Khan enthuses: "People were jumping up and down. There was singing, there was moshing and there was none of that sleazy stuff rich kids worry about from the 'lower classes'." Usmani agrees that the gig carried a particular resonance. "We showed the working class in Pakistan that western rock can be adapted into something they can be a part of." The Kominas are one of a clutch of Muslim punk bands that burst on to the scene following the 2003 publication of the American Islam convert Michael Muhammad Knight's novel The Taqwacores.

Real-life taqwacore bands emerging across the US quickly mirrored Knight's fictional New York punk scene. The book's title has morphed into a general term for Muslim punk rock, tying the Arabic "taqwa" - God consciousness - with the instantly recognisable "hard-core" genre label. A 2007 Taqwatour brought five bands together on a countrywide onslaught on US venues that brought The Kominas their international acclaim.

Of future directions, Khan says: "In terms of the growth of this thing, it is very important to distinguish between media hype and actual gig attendance and bands being created - that is all in the future and it's up to us to keep playing." This public awareness also marks a personal journey for the group's guitarist. "I feel a closer relationship to Islam and a righteous path after this experience," he says. It's a reminder of the sentiment underpinning the movement in whose development he was so involved.

Usmani looks towards the ideological progression The Kominas are making. "I think with subsequent tours, we can make Muslims, desks and other youths OK with their own narratives that have been written out of popular culture for too long. "One thing is for sure, the Muslim youth in America will do what the youth always does when there's a disconnect between their parents, society and survival. They'll make their own rules. Though we are all in our mid-20s, I think we can provide good guidance to these younger kids growing up in the wilderness of North America and abroad."