These countries banned music—but artists still found a way

Banning songs from the airwaves is one thing, but some nations have outlawed music entirely.

Music’s power 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 tracks by The Beatles, China outlawed K-Pop fearing its global influence, Nazi Germany forbade jazz music, and Brazil’s military government censored 500 songs between 1964 and 1985.

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

“[A] government can clamp down on any kind of music making it likes, but the music making will go on,” says Marianne Franklin, author of Global Music Politics: Whose Playlist for Troubled Times.

The year the music stopped

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

Before what was called Year Zero, Cambodia was amid a golden era of music in the 1960s and early 1970s. Dancefloors were filled with men in sharp suits and women in miniskirts, jiving to psychedelic tunes inspired by the rock’n’roll sounds, which drifted over the airwaves from the American boats stationed in the South China Sea. Cambodian artists such as pop star Sin Sisamouth were household names. Although some people tried to save their musical heritage by hiding records, the Khmer Rouge’s reign made it nearly impossible to preserve this vibrant culture.

“When music is banned, these benefits are lost, leading 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. The Gong, Cambodia’s largest arts and cultural center, has just opened 37 miles northeast of Phnom Penh. With a modern recording studio and a 140-seat auditorium, the 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 among the first to perform at The Gong. Growing up with Western music, she later sought to explore Cambodia’s Golden Era and co-founded Plerng Kob, a creative hub, and Bonn Phum, an annual cultural festival. Postwar, Lomorkesor says the Cambodian music scene was covers and karaoke singers. “Now we have [original] pop, rock, R&B and hip-hop,” she says. “There was a time when we lost our identity. We have to start from scratch and find the sounds again.” 

The Cambodian diaspora is also spreading the word. U.S. band Dengue Fever, featuring Cambodian vocalist Chhom Nimol, released their album Ting Mong in 2023, inspired by 1960s Cambodian music. Their success in Europe and the U.S. and their appearances on Cambodian TV highlights the global interest in Cambodia’s musical heritage.

Zac Holtzman, cofounder of the band, said they were surprised with the response they received when touring Cambodia. “A guy who was almost in tears said Cambodia has been in a bad way for a while, and this is really good for us to remember we have beautiful music, and it’s not forgotten.”

Performing behind closed doors

As Cambodia works to revive its musical heritage, other countries continue to navigate the balance between artistic expression and government restrictions. In the 1960s and ’70s, Saudi Arabia actively promoted the arts. However, this changed dramatically in 1979 when the al-Jamaa al-Salafiya al-Muhtasiba, led by a preacher, seized the Grand Mosque of Mecca. Not long after, the Saudi government took a more conservative stance, resulting in the closure of cinemas and a ban on public music performances.

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

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

A new era began with the ascension of a new king in 2015, leading to rapid changes 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 building a 20,000-seat sports and entertainment arena near the UNESCO city of Diriyah. International acts like Post Malone performed in the kingdom, and the Soundstorm festival, a four-day rave in the desert where men and women dance together without segregation, became a highlight.

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In 2021, Immortal Pain became the first heavy metal band to perform publicly at a large-scale event, Comic Con Arabia in Jeddah. “There wasn’t any fear,” says Ashour. “There was an excitement that finally our music is being recognised.”

Since their concert, other heavy metal bands have performed, such as Metallica and an all-female Saudi psychedelic rock band, Seera performed in Riyadh.

“You can say we are a little bit jealous as nowadays it is easier,” Ashour says. “But we are proud of what happen[ed] back in the ’90s, of the struggle to find [underground] places to play. It was exciting.”

Finding a new rhythm

The Saudi and Cambodian people are not the only ones who have experienced severe restrictions on their music. In Iran, the 1979 revolution brought a sudden halt to music, as the new Shia Islamic leaders thought it corrupted the youth. Traditional music could be played within a few months, but Western tracks and solo female singers were no longer culturally acceptable.

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Now, 45 years later, Iranian classical, folk, and pop music fill the airways, and buskers can be seen on the streets of Tehran. Western electronic musician Schiller even performed in Tehran in 2017. However, not all artists have the freedom to perform openly. Solo female singers may appear on The Voice Persia, but the show is recorded in Sweden. Meanwhile, rap music has gained popularity, yet artists who write lyrics considered threatening by authorities face imprisonment.