Meet the hair-raised radical women of Berlin’s noise punk scene

Powertool — In his new zine, George Nebieridze captures moments of loud rage and quiet intimacy of the German capital’s bands, while exploring the intersections between music, community and anti-establishment politics.

As a teen coming of age in Tbilisi, Georgia, during the mid-2000s, photographer George Nebieridze remembers the need to be loud, rebellious, and have a sense of belonging. The newly independent nation was reeling after the collapse of the Soviet Union, offering little to youth beyond liquor, music, bonfires, and abandoned buildings. While many of his peers fell victim to addiction, violence, and suicide, Nebieridze made a way out through school, but always carried the memory of his friends close to his heart.

In 2013, he moved to Berlin to pursue his MA, quickly falling in with the city’s flourishing techno clubs, before moving over to its noise-punk scene. Towards the end of the decade, Nebieridze met musician Karolina Bartczak, who formed the experimental hardcore group URIN and later all-women band BRAK. “I got instantly inspired by this band. It revived my desire from my youth to be involved with such music,” Nebieridze says. “I knew punk music has been present in Berlin since forever, but it always felt inaccessible for me prior to that. This, however, was happening right next to me, plus it was different from more conventional punk acts.”

In the beginning, Nebieridze came through as a friend to show support and sometimes work as a bouncer at the door. He snapped a few photos here and there, but it wasn’t until 2020 that he began to see the story he wanted to tell. With the publication of Powertool, Nebieridze crafts a portrait of Berlin’s contemporary feminist noise punk community with high voltage scenes of chaos, rage, intimacy, and solidarity.

Read next: Spyros Rennt captures connection and tenderness among Berlin’s queer youth

A dark, industrial interior with two young women in punk rock-style clothing and posing amongst various chains and metal equipment.

Shitlickers

BRAK

The zine takes its name from one of the many unorthodox instruments and techniques URIN features in their music. But beneath the spikes, leather jackets, and electric drills, lies a circle of friends drawn together through compassion, caring, and love. “We embrace queerness and feminism, sometimes even humour, even though many things we do are politically important to us,” Nebieridze says. “Most spaces where we hang out fly under the radar, because they are not completely legal.”

With Powertool, Nebieridze takes on backstage, on stage, on the road, and in the streets standing shoulder to shoulder against the Palestinian atrocities. “Germany is a very special case nowadays. The level of hypocrisy and distorted feeling of guilt has very severe consequences for immigrants and minorities,” he says. “It’s necessary for punk to be deafeningly loud and to resist.”

Nebieridze sees decentralisation, inclusivity, and community as key advantages against the rising tide of fascism. Friends from around the world bring their bands to Berlin, helping to keep the loose global network connected. “The world is a very scary place in so many ways,” he says. “The most powerful force that drives and unites us is speaking up about the unjust actions of rich and corrupt politicians, war criminals, racists, homophobes, and transphobes.”