Monday 23 June 2008

Khanate [2005]


Why is doom metal so slow? That might seem a ridiculous question. Surely it’s something to do with the pioneering sub-blues-crawl of the very first Sabbath album, or the enduring influence of The Melvins' early dirges? In truth, there is a more subtle rationale informing the dynamics of the subgenre. The decelerated, detumescent sprawl of the best doom expresses negativity and woe better than its speedier metal relatives for the simple reason that bad times always seem to last longer and move slower than good times. As Albert Einstein put it when attempting to simplify his theories, "When you sit with a nice girl for two hours, it seems like two minutes. When you sit on a hot stove for two minutes, it seems like two hours. That's relativity." The doom subgenre embraces the time-warping qualities of pain and unhappiness and alchemises them into artistic virtues, reflecting their drear effect on our experience of the passage of time. Khanate reject the heroic, mythological trappings of their forbears (and many of their contemporaries) and like 80s heroes Swans they maximise their impact by offering an amplified dramatisation of real human pain. The kind to which anyone who has been dumped, beaten, bereaved, taken mentally ill or otherwise victimised can relate. Khanate's new two-track mini-album ‘Capture & Release’ is a cathartic wallow in just such reactionary depths of despair, as James Plotkin (bass/synth) explains.
“It seems like most of Khanate’s themes have to do with very primal, destructive instincts and reactions of an aggressive/regressive nature.” He then adds, somewhat cryptically, “I have some experience with primitive, destructive behavior.”
Alongside Plotkin’s synth and bass, Tim Wyskida’s drums and Stephen O’Malley’s guitar, one of the most distinctive elements of Khanate is the voice of Alan Dubin. His vocals differ from those of the average black or death metal singer in that they are not so much trying-to-be-inhuman as all-too-fucking-human. His acidic retchings sound like expulsions from the blackest, loneliest recesses of the soul. “It’s cold/When I touch you,” he shrieks on ‘Release’, evoking feelings of lovelessness and solitude that are still taboo in a society that either drives unhappiness underground or co-opts it into a superficial culture of complaint. It is in defiance of this that Khanate deal with the abject, the emotional and psychological waste that emanates from our souls in times of dejection and humiliation. Dubin’s vocal style is also notable for simulating the derangement and petulance commonly associated with infancy and old age, extremes of human development equidistant to the concept of emotional restraint. Long-time friend and associate Plotkin (the pair previously worked together in OLD and Shadowcast) credits this partly to the singer's somewhat delicate grasp on reality.
“I've been aware of Alan's dual personalities and unstable psyche for quite some time, so nothing really surprises me that much,” he admits. “I may have been thrown a bit with the direction of his most recent lyrics, considering that 'Things Viral' was much more surrealist and open to interpretation. I'd say he's one of the most interesting lyricists I've ever come across.”
Like Stephen O’Malley, James Plotkin is a restless musical polymath who can often be found with a number of projects on the go at any given time. Given his work rate and obvious dedication to music, it is worth enquiring as to what motivates him as a musician. Is Plotkin creating music for the pure joy of it, or does he have a particular aim in mind whenever he picks up an instrument or sits at a computer keyboard?
“I try to let things happen as they will - usually the best music is the stuff that happens without too much thought. You can't really force art, it becomes way too obvious and impressionistic. It's something to focus on, I find it very therapeutic. I'd say music and art in general has been instrumental in keeping me out of serious trouble over the years. I could probably say the same for the other members of Khanate.”
Plotkin is a versatile musician, capable of performing a variety of different functions from bass and synth player in Khanate to guitarist in Atomsmasher/Phantomsmasher. He also works as a producer. Does he feel more comfortable in any one of those roles, or see them all as equal extensions of his creative instinct?
“These roles all have much different rewards as well as different levels of frustration. I have to admit that I really enjoy the clinical aspect of the technical work and being able to disconnect from the material itself to a degree. Nothing really compares to the satisfaction of creating art from the ground up though, and production work takes on a completely different form when you're applying it to your own material. The process can get really blurred when you're self-producing because it's all coming from the same place, but you have absolute freedom which to me is absolutely essential.”
Plotkin's first experience of this freedom came at an early stage of his musical development.
“When I was a kid learning to play guitar I found an old delta-lab delay unit in the trash outside a local gear shop,” he remembers. “It was one of the first delays that had the ‘infinite repeat’ function. This helped introduce me to the power of the loop and the possibilities of sound outside the typical song-based formula. Living just outside NYC I also had a good amount of exposure to late-night college radio programs that were essential for discovering new and obscure music. I was hearing stuff from artists like Brian Eno, Pierre Henry and Throbbing Gristle for the first time on the radio. This obviously had a major impact on my development of a sense of exploration in music.”
Around the time of Khanate’s second album, 'Things Viral', guitarist Stephen O’Malley claimed that what had begun as a collaborative ‘project’ had become more of a ‘band’ following touring and further studio work. Indeed, the easy assumption that Khanate is O’Malley’s baby – understandable given his status as something of a catalyst for doom/drone group excursions – is revealed as false by even a cursory listen to their music. Khanate is formed by four distinct personalities, each able to channel their respective histories into their joint creations.
“I think that when you start to achieve some results from your work you begin to take it more seriously, which was certainly the case with Khanate. Stephen and I had only just met when we had our initial sessions, so I suppose it was unclear at the time what would materialize. Personally, I think the fact that each member of the band contributes on a creative level is what defines Khanate as a ‘real’ band.”
The group’s almost dub-like use of space and silence also allows each band member to make his presence unmistakably felt; ‘Khanate’, ‘Things Viral’ and ‘Capture & Release’ do not flood the listener with torrents of suffocating drop-tuned riffing – movement is delayed until the tension becomes almost unbearable, increasing the devastating power of the downstroke when it finally arrives. In addition to the tortuously slow pace of their songs, these gaps between eruptions of noise bring Khanate’s music within kissing distance of drone or even ambient music, areas in which Plotkin in particular has shown a great deal of interest. Given the wide range of left-field influences brought to bear on their music-making, and the unique sound that emerges as a result, one might wonder just how applicable the 'doom metal' tag is to Khanate. Is it strictly relevant to use such a term when the subject is so engaged in exploring possibilities others would not even consider genre-worthy?
“That seems to be the genre we've been placed in," shrugs Plotkin. "Khanate are in the fringes, though - very marginal. I think that if the term is used as a really loose guide towards finding new music it can be helpful. It's when limitations and standards become attached to these terms that they become a problem. You eventually get artists that adhere to a strict formula in order to be authentic or true. I guess I just don't understand this need to categorize. Leave it to the obsessives.”
Listening to their records, it isn’t immediately obvious whether Khanate sculpt their songs from hours of exploratory jamming or adopt a painstakingly precise compositional approach. While the looseness and openness of their sound suggests the former, the elements of each song seem to be positioned ‘just so’ in order to achieve maximum effect. For his part, Plotkin views the songwriting process as mutable and liable to change at any time, although he admits that ‘Capture & Release’ is more ‘composed’ than the group’s previous work.
“The process is constantly changing. ‘Capture & Release’ is the first album that was entirely composed prior to recording. An idea or chord progression is used as a starting point, more ideas are brought in and thrown around until things start to solidify. I think everyone in Khanate brings something really unique to the table when composing, it's a really interesting combination of angles.”
So how would he describe the band dynamic? Is it based on mutual understanding or a degree of creative tension?
“I'd say there's a good balance of artistic intent and general motivation,” he explains. “Any tension inside Khanate would have more to do with personality and ego than creative differences since the creative process is shared really well. The chemistry between players has developed as well - recent live performances are a pretty good indication of this. Everyone seems open to trying different approaches which is going to keep things interesting. For the most part we all agree that limitations should be avoided as much as possible.”
How important is playing live to Khanate?
“Extremely important,” he confirms. “The maximum effect can really only be witnessed in the proper live setting. Certain gigs have provided some peak moments for this band and I don't think we could reach our full potential without the immediacy of live performance.”
As anyone who has attended a Sunn 0))) gig will attest, the physical and psychological effects of low-end frequencies combined with high volume can be devastating. As well as the short and long term effects on the hearing, this combination has been known to cause visual hallucinations, nausea and emotional disturbance. In Khanate’s case, it would be true to say that the group really do suffer for their art, as Plotkin explains.
“It can be a total release when the visceral effect is reached but it's also quite destructive. Everyone in Khanate has been experiencing tinnitus for the last year which has become a growing concern. Using the best available protection against hearing damage still doesn't have much effect when you're pushing 120db in a small club. Exposure to extreme bass frequencies can distort your vision as well. At times you can feel your eyes rattle in their sockets. I tend to feel tired mentally after playing with Khanate, although I could just be a bit banged out in general...”