Khanate
10

  • London
  • United Kingdom
  • Garage
  • 2005-11-26

There would be an assumption that seeing Khanate live would provoke an elicitation of ‘darkness’, ‘repulsion’ and similar facets that lie on the wall behind the bigger canvas. I imagine that some people attribute these sentiments to their live experience, some in regards to a positive stimuli, some to a negative faction; in my experience my sentiments were completely antipodal to the black of the yang. As soon as I felt the very first elevation that had me glued to the ceiling, I could think and feel nothing but purity in resplendent, positive and ecstatic emotions.

…sending me through it to levitate above the strange mix of love and hatred that embroiled the Garage that night

Stephen O’Malley is the most patient man in music. His determination to override any desires to fill gaps in Khanate’s music with an alternative to drone is admirable. By ordering his paws to never falter in pauses, he opened up a provocative pandora that takes hold of cognition; leaving the listener in focus of the minimalism in sound — not the abundances. When he did unleash a slam to the strings, the thunderous output had my muscles tighten enough to crack that ceiling I was glued to, sending me through it to levitate above the strange mix of love and hatred that embroiled the Garage that night.

I am quite obviously a big fan of the drone/doom/metal genealogical tree. Thanks to the mixing of blood between flagsip bands, I have found it hard to enjoy any band more than the other. Yet now having seen the colossal howls of Alan Dubin live, I am beginning to feel that the addition of such vehement vocals make the whole sound carry a story. Something that, for example, Sunn 0))) do not do on all of their records. Yes, their story is delivered in the ‘sound’ and also in the amazing scripts within the record covers. However, when Julian Cope epically orated on White 1, I felt even more part of the narrative. I suppose I’m just trying to clarify a specific thought I had on the night, and that was that the vocals had my eyes gleaming and my neural networks working as rampant as Japanese bureaucracy.

…one thing I just can’t imagine is ‘making love’, or maybe ‘fucking’ to the sound of Khanate

Seeing a band like Khanate creates a multitude of chemical reactions. Excitement is not just applied to one, or a handful of bodily applications. It is everything. Every jitter of the bronze on the kit will have the follicles in your pores flee from freezing, the conglomeration of the most almighty drone layers will tinkle with the pH of your blood — it’ll never return to neutral. One thing I just can’t imagine is ‘making love’, or maybe ‘fucking’ to the sound of Khanate. However, I am most interested in how it may be played.

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