An Interview with Nürnberg: Music Unrestricted by Borders or Language

★ by David Paicu ★

The youth of post-soviet countries have been making waves within culture, bringing their own existentialist and idiosyncratic flair to creation. One such group making waves at the moment is Nürnberg, a post-punk band establishing their own unique style of music in an ever-evolving musical landscape.

Coming from Belarus, the band delves into certain existentialist conflicts and emotions in a way that delineates themselves from their contemporaries. With the release of their new album Paharda, Nürnberg has focused on this concept creating a dark intense sound whilst also borrowing themes from their literary and musical idols.

Pure Nowhere sat down with Nürnberg to discuss the creation of their unique style and the way in which they are able to connect with an audience as big and diverse as theirs.

How have you guys been during this recent pandemic?

It’s a very difficult situation in our country; our government doesn’t think that coronavirus is very dangerous. People are still going to work every day and you are only allowed to stay at the hospital for 21 days. After 21 days you need to go back to work again. One month ago, we had a parade where nearly 10,000 people attended; it was an awful situation.

Where did the name Nürnberg come from when you were naming your band? Is there any specific reason for the name?

We chose the name because Nürnberg is a city in Germany that has a very strong connection with old Belarusian history. In the 15th century in the old Belarusian state named “The Grand Duchy of Lithuania,” there was a commonwealth with Lithuania. The old king of the country Vitaut should be a king and his crown was made in Nürnberg. It is a city that is incredibly significant in the country of Belarus. Unfortunately, the crown was stolen in Poland. It’s a very important and interesting part of Belarusian history.

Are there any bands that have influenced your sound or the way that you create music?

We met at school in the same grade and we spoke, and we knew that each of us had a similar music taste. We listened to “Кино” (Kino) and “Аквариум” (Aquarium) — they are a soviet band in post-punk and a soviet folk band from our childhood. We also enjoyed Polish cold wave with bands like 1984, Madame, and German new wave bands like Stille Hoffnung, Peter Schilling, and 1. Futurologischer Congress. When we tried to make music at the start, we didn’t mean to create anything that was post-punk. We started to play music and we thought that it was reminiscent of post-punk and we liked the sound, so we became more post-punk. Of course, we rely on the bands like The Smiths and The Cure and like For Against, Asylum Party.

A lot your music tends towards a dark and existentialist feeling a lot of the time — how did you create that atmosphere in your music?

It’s not special because we have that kind of view in our lives and our literature too. It’s nothing special. It’s essentially how we viewed our lives, and we think that’s why it comes up in our music so often.

“Music and language are used as an instrument, allowing you to create the emotions that resonate with other people.”

You just mentioned that there was literature with a similar perspective to your music — what literature helped you create your sound?

Belarusian writer like Уладзімір Караткевіч (Uladzimir Karatkievich) we also read Belarusian poet like Янка Купала (Yanka Kupala), and Рыгор Барадулін (Ryhor Baradulin). Also we like Boris Pasternak, Albert Camus, Franz Kafka, and Vladimir Nabokov.

Since you guys come from a post-soviet country, when it came to how you explored your art, did you ever feel censored or restricted? Or were you allowed to explore whatever you wanted?

No, since in contrast to before we have the internet — and with the internet you can get almost anything. It is difficult to get certain things in Belarus though, because industry music is mainly government music. Almost all the bands and groups are indie. We don't have communication with the government or big companies.

Would you say that quite a lot of the music that is listened to by Belarusians is associated more with the government as opposed to the indie bands?

Yes, because our bands don’t connect with the government and the government doesn’t help us. For example, in our universities, our bands can’t get help such as money. It’s all in our hands — it’s difficult to get help.

When you’re creating your music, did you ever have a concept or idea that you wanted to explore prior, or did the concepts develop while creating the songs?

We always write our songs during our rehearsals. At first, we don’t have any ideas about future songs or albums; it is mainly improvisation. Afterward, we write a few and from these few songs, we try to create something more cohesive.

For example, now we are making our new stuff in the style of indie, but we have darker and colder songs for our next album. We don’t know what will be made later and maybe as we make the album, we might dismiss songs that don’t fit, but there’s nothing that we see as essential going into making the album.

“We tried to make this album with our emotions; the album starts with bright and clean songs with a romantic atmosphere but then later we have a melancholic reflection with some far sadder feelings expressed within them.”

Would you say that there is a different feeling of playing to an audience when you’re inside Belarus as opposed to when you play to an audience outside of Belarus?

We don’t think so, since we believe the songs are based on emotion. Music and language are used as an instrument, allowing you to create the emotions that resonate with other people. We feel like our music is not restricted by borders or by language, but is moved by the feelings behind them.

So, what kind of emotion were you aiming to hit with your new album?

Our new album is called Paharda, which means “contempt” in English. It’s a conceptual album because we have songs that also translate directly to “fate” and “hope.” The third song is “love,” and this resulted in us calling our album the antithesis of these things by calling it “contempt.” We tried to make this album with our emotions; the album starts with bright and clean songs with a romantic atmosphere but then later we have a melancholic reflection with some far sadder feelings expressed within them. 

With bands like yourself and Molchat Doma, how does it feel to be a figurehead for the musical movement that is coming out of Belarus? 

We think that in Belarus and other parts of the world this kind of music, this dark pop, has always been popular, but now we have difficult political and social situations going on here. We think that people in the rest of the world have started to become interested because in the world today, there is too much music in the English language. The market for it comes off as busier and more saturated. Sometimes it is good to have music that comes from eastern Europe with Slavic languages that people have not heard before, especially for western audiences. Many audiences haven’t heard music from these regions and we’re glad we can introduce them to it.