Since his emergence in the early 90s, Iranian-born, Plymouth-raised multi-instrumentalist Kavus Torabi has remained a singular and distinctive figure in the spheres of psychedelic and progressive music.
Along the way he’s lent his six-string talents to a number of idiosyncratic names including Cardiacs, Guapo and Chrome Hoof, while remaining at the heart of the lysergic funk of The Monsoon Bassoon and third-eye rinsers Knifeworld.
More recently, he’s participated with Mediæval Bæbes and become an integral member of the post-Daevid Allen line-up of Gong, while also starting the unlikely yet successful experimental project The Utopia Strong with former snooker champion Steve Davis and musician Michael J York. And that’s just scratching the surface.
The Banishing, Torabi’s second solo album, is where that deeper scratching reveals more of the man behind the music than any of his previous work.
Recording began in the wake of its predecessor Hip To The Jag in the spring of 2020, but a deterioration in Torabi’s mental health saw him become not only estranged from his family, but also leaving the city that he’d called home for the previous 30 years.
And while the title refers to his move to the more bucolic environs of the West Country, Korabi also sees it in more magical terms as a banishing ritual.
For all that, The Banishing isn’t an album that feels sorry for itself. Instead, this is a naked confessional. While the lyrical concerns take a razor-sharp scalpel to cut away the dead flesh of the past, the music blossoms and opens with each return visit.
The airy and gossamer opener The Horizontal Man picks up where the ethereal Hip To The Jag left off – but proves to be a red herring as the spaghetti western-influenced Snake Humanis comes bounding close behind.
The real balancing act becomes apparent as The Banishing rolls on. Only the hardest of hearts would remain unmoved by Push The Faders. As Torabi admits, ‘When I kicked and screamed like a child, I scared you away... I never knew I’d be this way, I thought that I’d be stronger,’ against a musical backdrop that rises in subtle intensity while making welcome nods to harmonised Frippertronics.
Similarly, The Sweetest Demon finds the singer lamenting, ‘Now you drink alone because it hurts too much,’ juxtaposing his introspection with an insistent and nagging melody.
Torabi’s voice is a plaintive joy throughout, informed as it is by painful experiences while looking ahead. While the bounce of Untethered is informed by resignation, the only way is forward. And that’s exactly where Kavus Torabi is going.
• The Banishing is on sale now via Believers Roast.