War, sickness, and sci-fi are paramount influences in Nazar’s work. After fleeing Angola due to an armed conflict, the artist put together an incredibly boundary-pushing album, Guerrilla (2020). Now, after struggling with health issues and navigating his new life in Amsterdam, Nazar has put out Demilitarize, a ten-track record that shows he’s not afraid: to experiment with sound, to sing for the first time, and to confront his fears. Today, we speak with him about stepping out of the comfort zone, the prevalence of war in culture, sampling, and electronic music.
If Guerrilla’s tracks titles were more war-like (Arms Deal, Retaliation, Bunker, UN Sanctions), Demilitarize is looking more introspective (Mantra, Disarm, Heal, Open). What’s changed?
I wanted to draw parallels with my first album by still using words that have significance in military jargon but could also go beyond that. To show that my second album is a continuation of my journey. But this time, the journey is inverted, it goes inward. On Guerrilla, many of the terms were to be taken literally. On this one (Demilitarize), the struggle is internal.
This album is highly personal and you sing about love, feeling more like yourself, the future. What have you learned about yourself in the process of putting this record together?
I had learned more about myself prior to putting this record together. By the time all the lyrics were written (in the last year of its completion), I had already gone through transformative moments that gave me the confidence to move forward and sing all of the words with my chest. To summarise it, I’ve learned that being open with oneself and the people around me feels nice.
You’ve stepped out of your comfort zone and decided to sing in this new album, both in Portuguese and English. How so? What motivated that move?
Singing has been a passion of mine. As a listener, I see it as a way to communicate emotions. I haven’t been gifted with a singing voice, but the time spent in bed during my healing journey made me more aware of my body, the tone of my voice, my lungs — every movement matters when you’re that exhausted and on heavy medication. In that process, I found my comfort zone, my range, and fine tuned my breath work.
Those two languages are fundamental part of my artistic identity: Portuguese, because that was my main vehicle of communication when I first started making music. English came into the picture when I was ready to expand and go beyond the border of Angola. I remember being fourteen and dedicating myself very hard to be the best at English in school because I knew how it would enrich my near future.
Those two languages are fundamental part of my artistic identity: Portuguese, because that was my main vehicle of communication when I first started making music. English came into the picture when I was ready to expand and go beyond the border of Angola. I remember being fourteen and dedicating myself very hard to be the best at English in school because I knew how it would enrich my near future.
War is, unfortunately, everywhere — video games, the news, cinema. And to millions of people, in their daily life. Your work draws a lot of inspiration from that. What about it sparks your creativity?
War sadly has taken an important part of my family’s history. The repercussions of it are still felt today, twenty-three years after the end of it. It’s not that I intentionally want to seek inspiration from it; it’s just that an unavoidable matter if I do self-introspection.
We find war mainly in cinema (the new A24 film, Warfare, is just the latest example, but there are countless more), but also in literature, art, and photography. But it’s more unusual to find it in music. Why do you think that is?
I believe the main difference between the Global North and South on how they deal, process, and heal from it. I can’t speak for all places, but in Africa, music and dance are often used as a vehicle to process the trauma war creates. Even more broadly, death is regarded differently. Music takes a central place in funerals, for example.
“War sadly has taken an important part of my family’s history. The repercussions of it are still felt today, twenty-three years after the end of it.”
You’ve quoted Ghost in the Shell as a source of inspiration because you wanted the sound of the album to be “almost metaphysical, like creating sci-fi.” What about that movie moves you?
I have a certain nostalgia with the whole franchise. I came across the anime when I was a kid, and despite not understanding the layers upon layers of meaning and narratives, I still felt drained by it. Now in my adulthood, revisiting it is so rewarding.
I guess the cohesion of something so dense but still presented in a way that is accessible has inspired me a lot in the making of the album. There are many angles we can take to interpret my songs and lyrics on this record.
I guess the cohesion of something so dense but still presented in a way that is accessible has inspired me a lot in the making of the album. There are many angles we can take to interpret my songs and lyrics on this record.
Could you recommend other films that have informed Demilitarize?
The Matrix and its entire lore.
In today’s world, music feels more like something to consume rather than feel and truly listen to. Your album takes guts, time, energy, and focus to fully grasp and feel. Are you ever afraid that the audience might not have the patience to understand your work?
Not really. I’ve been in music long enough to know what truly enriches my soul. My music will always find the right audience. Whether it reaches a big or small crowd isn’t in my control and I’m fully content with it.
That being said, I’ve challenged myself to change speed with this second album. Guerrilla has slower world building. On this one, and since I’ve tapped more into pop and R&B influences, I wanted to be more direct with my songs. I often joke that this could be the most ‘pop’ I’d ever go.
That being said, I’ve challenged myself to change speed with this second album. Guerrilla has slower world building. On this one, and since I’ve tapped more into pop and R&B influences, I wanted to be more direct with my songs. I often joke that this could be the most ‘pop’ I’d ever go.
You were born in Belgium, then lived for several years in Angola (the birthplace of your parents), and now you’re based in Amsterdam. How do you think these different places have built your sound?
These places are really the source code to my sound, for whoever wants to understand where my ideas come from. Techno made in Belgium, French Touch in France, Kuduro in Angola, and the countless genres and sub-genres I’ve been exposed to with the internet since I was a teen. The elements are all there. No matter how culturally different the places I’ve lived in are, I could rely on electronic music to bridge them altogether.
You recorded Guerrilla in Angola, and the songs featured a lot of sampled sounds from there — helicopters, guns, birds, and more. But the set-up for Demilitarize, which you recorded in Amsterdam, changed your approach completely. Could you guide us through the process of producing it?
My mouth was the starting point of all the main samples. Then, after countless manipulation, I would start carving melodies from that. Sometimes, I obsessively looked for the synth that could sound the closest to my recording, but many times I realised that the source file was unmatched. Unlearn is a prime example of that. It marinated for a long time and went through a lot a reinterpretations before the final one.
I think you’re still recovering from everything you’ve gone through. Do you plan on bringing Demilitarize to the stage somehow?
Definitely. While reinterpreting Guerrilla and connecting the chapters of my journey.
