Kavus Torabi's The Banishing: From the Void to the Light (review/interview)
Armin Enayat- Feb 28
- 10 min read
Updated: Mar 4
Venture out into the dark tunnels of your inner self, still continue to go deep where a beam of light has never touched so you have never dared to discover, and you will find yourself facing your doubts and demons secretly settled and found there as their hidden haven. Having no other option but to duel, “The Banishing” serves as Kavus Torabi’s wand of magic to dispel the fearful emotions, reach a higher self, and protect his temple in harmony. Following his debut, “Hip To The Jag”, the sophomore solo album invites you to explore a sonic realm that is as introspective as it is expansive. With the precision of an adept magician, Torabi conjures an intricate juxtaposition of sound, employing his musical athame to cut through the veils of personal struggle and emerge into a new dimension of creativity.
With a range of influences from psychedelia, progressive rock, and art rock, each track offers a shifting landscape, full of highs and lows, rhythmic undulations, and sonic transformations. A place where the traces of the desert sometimes meet the haze of British fog; where it feels as though Syd Barrett had wandered into the sun-drenched streets of LA, only to emerge with a vintage Western psychedelic sound swirling through his mind. While echoes of both British and American psychedelia can be heard, the album is unmistakably Torabi's own—his signature sound remains at the forefront. His far-reaching musical journey—spanning the legendary psychedelic band Gong, Guapo, Knifeworld, Cardiacs, Utopia Strong, and more—has allowed him to blend these influences into something altogether new.
The Banishing opens with "The Horizontal Man", a track that gently guides you into a reflective state. Here, Torabi’s signature blend of psychedelic and progressive elements finds new dimensions, merging reverberating vocals with the astral sounds of harmonium and synthesizers. In fact, the thematic resonance between the first song of The Banishing and the debut album is evident, as both explore similar reflections on inner turmoil and the search for resolution. This thematic thread runs throughout, echoing through tracks like "Push The Faders", where melancholic prog influences reveal a deep sense of sorrow and introspection. This track, along with "Mountains of Glass", captures the duality of Torabi's experience: the struggle to move past pain while striving for a sense of healing and transformation.
"Snake Humanis" slithers out of the gates of The Banishing with its vintage Western guitars resonating like echoes from a known, distant, forgotten land. This track, much like the serpentine creature it’s named after, twists and turns through soundscapes, casting shadows over the present as it stirs something primal beneath the surface. It is a haunting dance between two worlds: the untamed wilderness of the West and the mind-altering currents of British psych.
The third track, "Heart the Same", beats with a pulse of its own, an intricate blend of rhythmic reverberations that carry the weight of self-reflection. The vintage tone of guitars sounds bright and warm, which is both plaintive and wild—a restless call from the past, pushing the boundaries of time itself. Midway through, the song peaks into a hypnotizing experience; drums, guitar, synth, and harmonium coupled with astral effects shower the listener with a colorful cascade of sounds that swirl and dance in a hazy lucid dream, pulling you deeper into its kaleidoscopic core.
Nestled between the album's brooding shadows and its soulful revelations, "Sweetest Demon" emerges as a luminous paradox. The track greets with a fanfare of doom, only to reveal a sunlit psych-pop charm that conceals something far darker. Torabi’s storytelling is at its sharpest here, uncovering the secrets of a centuries-old figure who strikes blindly with forbidden truths. The contrast between its insistent melody and lines like “Now you drink alone because it hurts too much” transforms the song into a confessional, balanced on the edge of despair and liberation. It feels less like a song and more like a séance—a summoning of hidden selves brought to life by the maestro’s touch.
"A Thousand Blazing Chariots" stands out as a poignant tribute to the late Tim Smith of Cardiacs, reflecting on his legacy and influence with a somber yet respectful tone. It’s a testament to Torabi’s ability to weave personal tributes into his broader musical narrative, adding layers of emotional complexity to the album.
"The Banishing" is not merely an album but a rite of passage—an alchemical odyssey where Kavus Torabi’s artistry breathes life into every sound. The raw hum of the Jazzmaster, the heavenly sigh of the harmonium, and the organic warmth of live instrumentation weave a tapestry that is as realistic as it is surrealistic. Each track, like a chapter in an ancient scripture, speaks of exile and return, of struggle transmuted into renewal. Even the serpent coils in the album’s artwork whisper of transformation, a testament to light piercing through the shadows. With this creation, Torabi offers not just music but a timeless beacon—a vessel carrying the echoes of the past and the promise of rebirth, destined to resonate long after the final note fades.
Q: What inspired you to create an album that dives deeply into layers of awareness?
Kavus Torabi: That’s a lovely thing to say. In terms of inspiration, I think art, regardless of the medium, is a snapshot of yourself at the time of making it. Perhaps snapshot is not the right word. You put all of yourself into the thing. By doing that, while trying in some way to explain yourself to the world, you are also gaining an understanding of yourself too. I use the word ‘world’ loosely here! In that respect, I think this is true to anyone who makes something personal.
Q: How do The Banishing and Hip to the Jag compare in terms of their themes and musical evolution?
Kavus: It’s hard to say, really. The process of making it was very similar, in that I wrote and played it all, but the circumstances in which it was made differed greatly. Hip To The Jag was made over a period of a couple of years, pre-quarantine, which was in retrospect a relatively happy time. While I started making The Banishing immediately after that, my life took a very difficult and unexpected turn and the album reflects this. The first two tunes I completed, A Thousand Blazing Chariots and Heart The Same, were still recorded while I was in London. The remainder of the album was worked on in a couple of temporary dresses following my banishing and completed just outside Glastonbury where I currently reside.
"The version of me that completed the album was a very different person to the one who started it."
When I make a record, I let the thing take me over and start to ‘live’ it so during the last few months, ideas, connections, symbolism and meanings started arriving thick and fast. I haven’t listened to it since I signed off the mastered version, which is always the case, but when I completed it I felt as if it was the most complete work I’d ever done.
Q: Did you experience any personal or spiritual transformation while crafting the album? And do you see your instruments as tools in that process?
Kavus: Actually, yes to both. As I mentioned in reply to the first question, the work itself becomes a way of understanding or at least getting closer to an understanding of oneself. The song Mountains Of Glass was originally a continuation of the theme of the album but once I had mixed it, in the context of the whole record, it sounded too self-pitying. I think maybe because it’s a more sombre song, the combination of the original lyrics and the tune itself just seemed like too much. In fact, Mountains Of Glass was probably the hardest tune to get over the line, it underwent a number of structural, arrangement and, finally, lyrical modifications before I was happy with it. The eventual lyrics were written following an atheism-obliterating ‘heroic dose’ of psilocybin mushrooms. Reading back they had an almost hymn-like quality and seemed to sit so much better with the music. Chronologically, this song should have ended the album. Kind of on a happy note, I suppose but, for whatever reason, ending with Untethered really worked for me. I’ve made so many albums that end with the epic that I wanted it to finish on something relatively snappy!
Q: The serpent on the album cover seems to symbolize transformation and rebirth. What does the serpent represent to you, and how does it fit into the story told in the album?
Kavus: As with so much of this, and I’m pretty sure this is true for everyone who creates things, usually you work automatically and don’t really see the greater meanings until after the event. The front cover took me about five days to complete but the final few hours took place immediately after the metaphysical revelation described above.
I’ll try to explain that day…
I had, I believed, finished the album. Doing the artwork and lettering etc was the reward to myself for finishing. It’s always this way. I love drawing so much that it felt like a treat after the three years of recording before it, especially the vocals which always take me ages to get right and are the hardest part, for me at least.
I decided to fully cleanse myself with the heroic dose, so I fasted all day and imbibed that evening. Sometime around midnight, as the effects wore off enough for me to actually stand up again, I saw the artwork on my desk, looking completely 3D and vibrating. It was swimming with meaning and symbolism, most of which I’ll keep to myself!
I only then realised I was absolutely ravenous, having not eaten all day and, descending to the kitchen, I immediately saw an apple! I’m not a Christian but the meaning was not lost on me. The serpent gives Eve and Adam the apple and upon eating it they are banished from Eden and onto the earth. That I had, through dissolution of the ego and sense of self, effectively been in a heavenly state, I was returning back into my physical body, back to the material realm where I definitely wasn’t half an hour earlier. The first two significant things I saw were the serpent on the cover and the apple which I hungrily consumed!
Q: What inspired you to incorporate influences of Californian psychedelia into songs like Snake Humanis?
Kavus: Ha, I suppose! It’s in the same mode as The Byrds ‘So You Want To Be A Rock N Roll Star’, which has always been a favourite so perhaps that’s why. I always loved that song. Instant sunshine.
Q: In your creative journey, you’ve embraced both solo work and collaborations with diverse musicians. What does the dynamic between solitude and collaboration teach you about your own artistic growth?
Kavus: I love both. I’m glad I don’t have to choose. Collaboration always brings unexpected results. Both processes affect each other in the long run. Whatever the artistic journey is, I want to go deeper and to get better at every aspect, whether working alone, writing, recording, performing etc. I certainly don’t consider myself a master at anything, but I hope I am improving. It’s a life committed to an idea and seeing where and how far that will take you.
Q: The Banishing live shows featured an intimate performance including a guitar, harmonium, and drones. How does performing solo differ from playing with larger ensembles, and what do you seek to communicate when you’re alone with your instruments on stage?
Kavus: It differs enormously, really, which is one of the reasons I love doing it. The show itself has a very different energy with the dynamics, subject matter and performance being much more intimate. It took me a couple of years before I started to understand how to do it. It’s so different from playing with a band. You are so much more exposed and, being used to the kind of full-on, incendiary polyrhythmic attack of a band like Gong, I was very self-conscious about doing something so relatively bare. Since touring Hip To The Jag, I started to find out what it was I was trying to do with the hour on stage and began to make the set a little more immersive. It becomes less about the individual songs and more about the shape of the set. This has started happening with Gong too. Of course, you always try to build a set that has a shape and a flow but somehow the importance of the experience, the journey in and out of the set has taken on a far greater meaning recently. I love the freedom of performing solo, though, I can extend sections, drop songs and modify the way I play something depending on the vibe each night.
Q: You’ve previously described music as more than just entertainment but as a "spiritual journey." How do you think music has shaped your identity, and in what ways does it help you navigate life’s challenges or provide a sense of purpose?
Kavus: Having always had music at the centre of, well everything really, gives me a sense of purpose. This is true with any art. If you look at life through the lens of nihilism then nothing has any meaning and, you know, I’ve been there. You can, as Robert Anton Wilson suggests, imagine yourself into whichever belief system you like. I don’t expect anything I do to amount to a hill of beans in the grand scheme of things, whatever that is, but in this atrophying flesh avatar which consciousness is currently inhabiting, this path feels honest, authentic and, in some small way, like it is putting good into the world.
"In the long term what I do is responsible for making some people’s lives a little better, bringing some meaning, some joy, some transformation."
This, at the very least, is the responsibility of an artist. It’s an ongoing journey. This is certainly not the answer I would have given ten or even five years ago. As you get deeper or further into the thing, it starts to reveal itself further.
Q: What upcoming plans do you have for your solo work and your other musical endeavors?
Kavus: We’ve just finished mixing The Utopia Strong’s next album and are very happy with that. Gong reconvene in March to make a new album too. Both of which are planned for releases this year and both will involve touring, with Gong pretty extensively, I imagine. In between all this, I have a number of solo gigs and will probably start my next record.
Q: Finally, do you have any message for your fans and readers?
Kavus: As always, your support allows me to do continue doing this, for which I am eternally grateful. In return, as I mentioned, I try to put all of myself into whatever it is I’m doing and hope all parts of the process that get it from me to you improve upon what I’ve done earlier. Thank you for joining me on this ride.
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