Inside their quaint, cracked-grey-walled jam space, Khoshnavaz and Young sit across from each other on drum thrones. Khoshnavaz sports short, dyed hair — something that would be frowned upon in her home country of Iran.
“You are constantly getting in trouble for expressing yourself as a woman,” she says. “The culture is basically seeing women as mere cows, only good for breeding and nothing else.”
Gadfly began as an outlet for Khoshnavaz’s displeasure with how women are treated in Iran, pouring her anger into the band’s anarchistically serene sound. Many of the songs on the band’s debut album, Apranik — named after the historical female Sasanian military commander who led an army against an invasion in 651 AD — were written while Khoshnavaz was still living in Iran. Most of the album’s lyrics are written in Farsi, her native tongue.

“Being a woman [in Iran] and playing heavier music is a big no-no because heavy music is bad. It’s illegal,” Khoshnavaz continues. “When I started a band in Iran our shows were very underground and sketchy. I had to get dudes in the band and act like they were the main singers while I was acting like a backup. There’s not many women who can make music legally. You always need to have men in your band.”
Khoshnavaz moved to Vancouver in an effort to freely create and pursue music. Not long after relocating, she met Young. Their chemistry was instant — both musically and personally. While Young was initially hesitant to join Gadfly, it didn’t take long for things to click.
“You already had a strong foundation, it was your sound,” Young says, looking at Khoshnavaz. “I didn’t want to mess with it until you’d figured out how to express yourself fully. The band wouldn’t be here without you. It’s your vision.”
Khoshnavaz matches Young’s praise with her own, highlighting the impact his involvement has had on the band’s sonic evolution. Gadfly’s latest single, “Shrink,” is a cover from Young’s previous band, RAG.
While Apranik was fueled by Khoshnavaz’s deep-rooted resentment, the band’s follow-up record, Sura, marked a thematic and musical shift. Like Apranik, the album takes its name from a historical Persian woman — this one known for gathering an army to attack her father in revenge for “marrying her off.” Where Apranik was loud and confrontational, Sura explored more psychedelic and somber atmospheres. The lyrics, too, reflect a shift.
“With the earlier stuff I was trying to make it very poetic and about my anger of how people are getting treated. Or just how shitty life is,” Khoshnavaz says. “Now I don’t even know if it has meaning. It probably did when I wrote it. On Sura, I wrote one of the songs about my dog.”

Some might argue that getting into a creative or business partnership with a romantic partner can get messy. Disagreements and creative differences are always a possibility. But Young and Khoshnavaz make the dynamic work. While band tension could derail personal relationships, the couple turns it into fuel through constant communication. Khoshnavaz may be the band’s primary creative force, but they operate collaboratively — from writing music to booking gigs, studio time, and handling business decisions.
“We both love this project. That’s why it works,” Young says. “It’s not like we go home and go. ‘God, I can’t talk about the band anymore.’ We just keep rolling with it.”
Khoshnavaz concludes: “We’re angry and sad… but we’re fine. It’s a party.”
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