Summary of this article
Nikan Khosravi spent 18 months in Evin prison after being arrested for music deemed anti-State.
His work reflects Iran’s underground scene, challenging censorship, repression, and authoritarian control.
He voices a growing sentiment among Iranians calling for freedom, peace, and a system that truly represents its people.
After spending 18 months in Tehran’s Evin prison for his music and writing, Iranian metal musician Nikan Khosravi emerged into exile, but not silence. In this interview with Outlook India, he reflects on censorship, resistance, and why a growing number of Iranians are rejecting both war and a regime they feel no longer represents them.
How did your musical journey begin? How was the environment for artists in Iran then?
My journey with music began at a time when Iranian society felt deeply divided. There was tension everywhere, between people, ideas, and power. Expression was limited, and voices like mine struggled to find space. In those early days, no record label was there to publish our music, so we turned to the internet. Platforms like YouTube and SoundCloud were just beginning to grow in Iran, and everyone was experimenting. For us, it became more than an option, it became our only way forward. That digital freedom meant everything.
The band came together slowly, almost without planning. It was really a response to censorship, control, and the feeling of being silenced. Metal music already had a strong underground presence in Iran, with a rebellious energy that resonated with us. We were influenced by bands like Slayer, Rage Against the Machine, and Lamb of God. Their music challenged authority, and we wanted to do the same in our own way. We wrote about our reality, about fear, control, and the desire to be free.
What happened in 2015 that changed your life?
In late 2015, everything changed. My bandmate, Arash Ilkhani, and I were arrested. Our music and our words were treated as crimes. We were charged with blasphemy and propaganda against the State and taken to Evin prison in Tehran.
We spent 18 months there, waiting for a trial that would decide our future. Prison changes your sense of time. It’s not just about losing freedom, it’s about being cut off from everything familiar.
What happened after your trial?
When the verdict came, we were sentenced to six years. But we managed to secure bail, and that moment became our only chance. After spending 18 months behind bars, we left Iran and sought asylum in Norway. When we stepped out, life no longer felt the same. Everything was quieter, but not peaceful. It was the silence of fear. Many people distanced themselves from us. Some believed the accusations, and some saw us as enemies of the country.
How do you view the desire for a regime change in Iran? What are the demands of the citizen-led protests against the Supreme Leader and his regime?
The desire for change in Iran is larger than any one story. For many of us, it began with a simple idea, we wanted a different future. We are against war and against a system that does not represent its people. What we wanted was freedom, politically and personally.
Over time, protests grew and people took to the streets. There was hope that real change was possible. But now the situation feels more complicated. With the United States and Israel becoming involved, the narrative has shifted. They claim to help, but it doesn’t feel that simple from where we stand. The movement people built for themselves is now surrounded by global interests and power struggles. Instead of clarity, there is confusion. Instead of unity, uncertainty. For many Iranians, the dream of change now feels more dangerous than ever.
At its core, what people in Iran have always wanted is simple: a secular country where religion and government are separate, a democracy where people have a voice, and a normal life without fear or constant control.
How has all of this affected you as an artist?
As an artist, this moment is deeply painful. Music has always been my way of understanding the world and responding to it. I continue to write about what is happening, about Iran, conflict, and the human cost of it all.
Are you still creating music despite the challenges?
Yes, there are new songs in the works. They reflect not just our past, but the present moment. Many of our shows have been postponed or cancelled due to the global situation, but music remains our way of staying connected and continuing the conversation.
How do you see today’s Iran? What message would you like to share with the people of Iran?
My family remains in Iran. My parents live in Tehran, and like many others, they live with fear every day. They wake up not knowing what the day will bring. That uncertainty stays with me, no matter where I am. I often think about going back and seeing home again.
Stay strong. You have already shown incredible courage. The road ahead may be unclear, but hope should not disappear. Keep the door open for dialogue, understanding, and change. These are difficult times, but they will not last forever.
