Of all the depressing lyrics that I’ve encountered and contemplated over the years that I’ve worked with heavy metal bands of all shades of darkness, this one struck me as particularly bleak.Â
For all I know the best is over and the worst is yet to come.
I’ve never really been much of a fan of Paramore; pop-punk was never my thing but I do have a soft spot for their 80s-inspired 2017 release, After Laughter. I’ve listened to it dozens of times and I find it particularly good company when driving alone, especially late at night. I was recently driving to Liverpool and this song (Told You So) came on and I was so struck by it that I missed my exit on the M62.
Don’t we all go through life choosing to believe that there are great things just around the corner? Doesn’t there have to be a glimmer of hope on the horizon to get us out of bed each morning; a belief that it’s not all downhill from here? If we were to succumb entirely to the notion that the best is behind us, then we’re giving up the idea that there are as yet unscaled heights of joy and happiness in front of us.Â
The thinking can also be applied to (arguably) less existential ponderings such as whether the best of art and music have already been and gone. Is all that lies ahead of us ever-paler imitations of the greats that forged the paths that others meekly walk along today? My gut reaction to such a thought - absolute rejection of the possibility - brings into stark focus the optimism that I carry with me as I approach new music.Â
While nostalgia can often be a sticky trap to fall into, the past contains a wealth of information and inspiration. Years of melodies, acres of prose, and miles of brushstrokes are all waiting to be discovered by new eyes and open minds. To look backwards is to begin to understand how we ended up where we are today, right here. This is to say that the past - just like the future - contains multitudes. It has failed experiments, ill-thought-out ideas, hubris-induced poor choices, phases, scenes and lyrics that have all aged badly, as well as unrealised potential, unfinished projects and music that never found its audience.
I briefly pondered the motivations behind reunions when I wrote about Botch in the second edition of Slowpoke, and I’m revisiting that theme today as I contemplate KHANATE. No, I didn’t think that Paramore would lead me down a rabbit hole directly to Khanate either, and yet here we are. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to say that Khanate are an acquired taste. Even for a voracious consumer of music across the extremes, I am still able to appreciate that Khanate would startle your average rock club attendee; it’s beyond the nightmarish assault that outsiders think all ‘heavy metal’ sounds like.
For a spell, Khanate were the masters of tension and release. Across (mostly) long and sprawling tracks they tested the limits of going slow and low. The band was made up of drummer Tim Wyskida (also of Blind Idiot God), Stephen O’Malley (of Sunn, Burning Witch), producer and bassist James Plotkin, and Alan Dubin on vocals (both of Old Lady Drivers, also known as OLD - a band with quite a fascinating musical evolution).
For 17 years or so Khanate have seemingly lain dormant, but their influence has lived on through the musicians that followed in their wake. They split officially in 2006, imploding unceremoniously, with three full-lengths to their name. A postscript in the form of Clean Hands Go Foul was released a couple of years later, and was the band's first release that impacted me.Â
I read that one-fourth of the band, specifically James, had asserted that he had no interest in getting the band back together unless new music was on the cards. That new music came about in fits and starts over several years, across multiple cities on different continents and in various studios. Rather than revisiting the past, forward motion was an essential component of the reformation of one of the bleakest, most disturbing bands out there.Â
The result was To Be Cruel, which dropped without (much, obvious) warning in May this year. I listened to it once, immediately, and then didn’t return to it again for some time. It is not easy to digest, which is, of course, entirely the point. It commands attention and demands a full hour of your time. The pacing and tone of the album make it quite a meditative affair - although any peace or equilibrium is disrupted by the unholy vocals of Alan Dubin. Sounding every inch a man tormented, his piercing additions add a sense of urgency, delivered in distress.
As well as delighting those who were there the first time around, the release of To Be Cruel has undoubtedly scooped up some new fans along the way. I am a big believer in music being accessible to all, that elitism is boring, and that novices are welcome. But I am not sure how best to ease a curious new listener into Khanate - so I’ll just say that you should throw yourself in, feet first. Set aside some time to give them your full attention; if it’s for you, you’ll soon be enveloped in their music. If it’s not for you, you’ll also soon know.
Memory lane isn’t always a dead end - there is treasure to be found in revisiting the past from time to time. In the last week or so, AARON TURNER has been digging through the vaults and sharing old work via his Instagram. There is a neat segue somewhere here, given that some of his reminiscences involve Plotkin and O’Malley, but I am currently failing to tie those threads up together in a neat bow.Â
As well as being a musician himself, Aaron ran Hydra Head Records for over 25 years, with its most active period being between 1997 and 2012, releasing bands such as Cave In, Converge, Knut, Botch, Oxbow, and yes… Khanate (Ah! There’s the segue!). In my opinion, Hydra Head was a wildly influential label and a starting point for so many incredible artists. I can’t really do justice to it here and now (it warrants revisiting later down the line though), so as a placeholder, I would just like to point people towards Aaron’s Instagram so they can dig into these unearthed releases, or better yet, purchase them here.Â
I have resisted making a Slowpoke playlist until now - I wanted there to be enough there to make it worth diving into. Also, I know that streaming platforms can be a divisive thing - another issue for another day perhaps. Nevertheless, I have made a Spotify playlist featuring many of the artists I’ve written about in this newsletter so far, and a handful of artists who I haven’t (yet). If you’re a Spotify user then CLICK HERE, if you want to find the songs I have included on Bandcamp, many of them can be found here.
Thanks for being here!
~Becky
Aaron Turner is one-of-a-kind. Had the pleasure of getting tattooed by him last October and before that he correctly guessed who I was at my 1st Sumac show post-lockdown! I will always admire him for quitting Isis to pursue his true artistic muse that manifested itself in Sumac.