In Bandung, Indonesia, music is often suppressed by local authorities – but one series of shows is defying the restrictions with breakcore and folk-punk

‘Music in Indonesia cannot be severed from political domination and power,” says Kimung from his understated office in a residential area of Bandung, West Java. The mononymous music historian and stalwart of the underground music scene in Bandung pores through decades of DIY magazines and articles as he explains the tricky relationship between the city, provincial and national government forces in the west of this vast country, and the musicians who play here.

While Jakarta is dominated by skyscrapers, shopping malls and traffic jams, Bandung offers a more humble existence, where music and the arts infuse all facets of life – from the army barracks that have been turned into artist studios through to the violinist playing to drivers at traffic lights.

Despite this, Bandung has a history of clampdowns on musical expression. “If you didn’t follow the [government’s] policy, there was no place for you in this music industry,” says Kimung referring to the reality of Bandung’s musicians in the 1980s. “The government sees the musical potential of young people, and economises it, but does not allow the development of critical attitudes among musicians in addressing various injustices in society.”

Thirty years on, musical expression is still suppressed and police routinely shut down shows in the city. “The police never give permits for a concert unless guaranteed money is provided by the organisers,” says Jagalbabi, the pseudonym of the organiser of the Bandung Null Emergence (BNE): a series of gigs that are a highlight of the contemporary music underground in the city, set up to tackle one perceived injustice in society.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Tesla Manaf performing at the BME concert series in Bandung, Indonesia. Photograph: Jagalbabi/The Guardian

BNE’s shows take place in slums around the city, bringing local and international musicians together to raise awareness of issues caused by the Kota Tanpa Kumuh (Kotaku) programme, which translates as “City Without Slums”. The national government programme was designed to clear slum areas, relocate residents and rebuild on the cleared land, but has come against opposition due to a number of complex issues – from the 1960 law that should give ownership to people who occupy the land for 20 years, to the terms of the relocation.

So the existence of these shows is significant. They bring together artists from different musical backgrounds, whether that is Bandung local Tesla Manaf – a New York-trained jazz musician now performing blisteringly inventive breakcore – international touring acts such as The Eye of Time or local performance art and drone soundscape artist Eviction. Seeing these musicians play on top of rubble, while life goes on as normal for the families left in the slum, is emotive.

More than that, the BNE series tells a deeper story about the music scene in Bandung, partly illustrated by the success of the recently elected governor of West Java, Ridwan Kamil.

Heavy metal fan Kamil was elected mayor of Bandung in 2013 and, according to Kimung, his election was a product of the underground music scene. “In 2012 there were 40,000 metalheads in Bandung – equivalent to 1.7% of residents – so it was politically significant to bring up independent candidates from the metal music scene to become candidates for mayor.”

With a metalhead in office, the future of underground shows in Bandung seemed positive, but slum clearances increased significantly while police crackdowns on underground shows continued unabated, bringing together the birth of the BNE series as part of the wider Tamansari Melawan movement that campaigns against slum clearances and fundraises for the victims.

It is also positioned against the corporate sponsorship from cigarette companies that is pervasive in the Indonesian music scene. Police will shut down shows without guaranteed money, and, according to Kimung, “most music communities are co-opted by cigarette companies. They supply huge funding for concerts.”

Regular live shows in Indonesia are almost impossible without funding, so the sponsorship from cigarette companies means that only a selection of promoters are able to put on concerts. DIY promoters, who can’t access this sponsorship, rely on the generosity of gig-goers or the depth of their own pockets to ensure their show can continue after the police show up.

This closed shop can make it difficult for independent artists to play locally. “Underground gigs or venues have their own circle,” says Tesla Manaf, who made the switch from playing jazz to breakcore in the past year. “I’m struggling. I’m forbidden to play in certain gigs because I’m a jazz musician. BNE is an eye-opening experience: the energy is huge, but they cannot even rent a cheap sound system each month because of a lack of money.”

The BNE shows are eye-opening for many reasons. While searching out Resital Eksperimental – a show in the BNE series – I find myself in the dark at the bottom of a cul-de-sac where the buildings are dwarfed by a shopping mall and a highway running overhead. The only sign of the illicit show is groups of young Indonesians in DIY black band T-shirts ducking between homes.

Following them down an alley I am engulfed by home life, families eating and talking on either side and above me, before I suddenly find myself in a clearing. Rubble everywhere, I am standing in the middle of what was once someone’s kitchen. Despite the range of genres on show, each act is there to illustrate one thing: music’s ability to fight against government policy and for the poorest in society. The four-year-olds wearing Batman pyjamas and playing in the rubble suggest this battle may continue for generations to come.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest A graffiti-covered digger at the Bandung slum. Photograph: Jagalbabi/The Guardian

Five key tracks

Eviction – Suara – Suara (Save Pandang Raya)

Eviction creates drone soundscapes that soundtrack live performance art pieces at BNE shows. “He is one of the most consistent to spread the issues of local resistance,” says Jagalbabi.

Bars of Death – Tak Ada Garuda Di Dadaku

“The most prominent hip-hop unit in town,” says Jagalbabi. Their lyrics in this track mock the idea of Indonesian unity, and speak out against war, corporate greed and globalisation.

Masturbasi Distorsi – Hanya Ada Aku, Kalian dan Cinta

They are a folk-punk band with political lyrics from Cimahi on the outskirts of Bandung. One refrain in this track goes: “I don’t need to exist in the country / I spit on the hands of the government / I’m a Kafiri, a mask of domination / I end the act of tyranny”. Jagalbabi says: “They rarely play but their songs become the anthem for those who come here.”

Tesla Manaf – Opaque (feat Rio Abror)

“Few understand his desire to explore experimental music through his breakcore stuff,” says Jagalbabi. It is curious how a jazz guitarist is now making breakcore to rival masters of the genre like Venetian Snares. “Electronic chose me, it’s natural,” says Manaf. “I never planned where I’m going to go in order to make my music sound better, I’m just following the sound inside my head. Guitars can’t translate those sounds, so for two years I looked for instruments that can. And here I am.”

The Eye of Time – Foldings

French artist whose neoclassical music was a highlight of the Resital Eksperimental BNE-series show in the cleared slum of Tamansari. The shows often bring in foreign artists. “The concept is to show musicians who play and perform anything beyond the traditional way of playing instruments,” Jagalbabi says.