Khanate
Capture & Release
7
Rarely will you find an album that leaves you feeling as worked over as the third full length release from Khanate. Capture and Release is one of those rare albums that impacts the listener on several levels, making it damn near impossible to answer with a simple affirmative or negative response, the imminent, bottom line question of whether he “likes it”. There is actually little to like, much less (gasp) enjoy, about Khanate, at least in the conventional sense. Their brand of extreme doom is challenging, harsh, and totally draining. It’s also compelling as hell. The repetitive nature of the requisite lengthy compositions, when paired with Alan Dubin’s possessed shrieks may very well drive many listeners from the room screaming. But it’s that primal rawness and emotional bareness that will also draw in those that persevere through Khanate’s abrasive first impression.
Khanate consists of guitarist Stephen O’Malley (Sunn O))), Burning Witch, among others), drummer Tim Wyskida, and two ex-members of OLD, Dubin, and bassist James Plotkin. Previous work includes the band’s self titled debut in ’01 and Things Viral in ’03. This newest effort, Capture and Release, consists of only two tracks, “Capture” and “Release” of course, but still clocks in at forty-three minutes. The two songs seem to exist as compliments, rather than as a single concept. “Capture” is like an audio companion to John Fowles “The Collector”, a bleak story of obsession, predation, and abduction. The song offers little shelter or crescendo, instead maintaining a fairly consistent and linear lumber. Sparse, jarring chords slice through foreboding moods while Dubin howls and screams like a man who has reached the end of his rope. “Release” is slightly the longer of the two tracks, and is more dynamic, but not in a way that provides any more comfort or accessibility. Instead, Khanate use nearly dead air and painfully drawn out moments to string together another taut and emotional experience, that is again, more intent to maintain tension than employ typical ebb and flow.
Capture and Release throbs like a toothache echoing in your id. Its desperate, dangerous, and pained tones are as off-putting as they are captivating. It’s the quintessential “not for everyone” album, and in fact, only a select group will fall in love with this and play it every day, but many will appreciate and find occasional use for an album that can deliver such a unique effect.
