The Red Album

by Khantra

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The Red Album is the follow up to Khantra's 2001 self - titled release and captures a more developed, intricate and mature sound. It was recorded in March of 2004 over the coarse of two days (instrument tracking the first, vocals the second) at breakneck speed. The intricate song-writing and high energy clearly captured on this recording is probably what lent to much praise of the record and probably why many feel The Red Album is the best hardcore record to ever come out of New Jersey. The dust is still settling from this explosive release.


released June 27, 2004

Recorded, Mixed and Mastered by Chris Badami at Portrait Recording Studios.



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Khantra New Jersey

Khantra is a four-person augmented hardcore band hailing from northern New Jersey. Originally formed in 1998, Khantra was well-known for a unique experimental sound not limited by typical genres and constraints. Along with this dynamic nature, the band maintained a consistent emphasis on intense live performance, layered vocal arrangements, and detailed yet powerful song structures. ... more

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Track Name: Chandeliers Should Only Fall On Villains
Unable to interrupt the conversation destroying us.
Every decision a perfect incision,
to insert the blind ability to trust.
We are armed with false scars...
(My eyes are shut again so take my hand
and guide me through my friend.)
... that were made by careful hands,
unable to sleep and unable to understand.
We cut the cable holding the chandelier,
that fell on those who we didn't have to fear.
Track Name: Any Lips To Drink
The last thing that she needs
is to be stared at with eyes
that will never meet her own,
that will never be blind.
My voice cannot have the volume.
We were born with knives between our legs.
Some of us use them to cut the tread that held your trust.
I wish that you didn't have to know without having a choice.
Track Name: Depiction
I am blind but I can see edges so think my mind ignores the detail for the comfort and convenience of simple depiction.
Anxiously awaiting the dawn to watch the remnants of sunrise. Dying days spent tracing shadows.
For comfort and convenience, for standing and pride, for ignorance and security, for self satisfaction, I will not sharpen the point. I will not erase the edges. I will not adjust my gaze. I will not reassemble the reflection in a shattered mirror waiting. Waiting for you to frame the pieces that don't cut. There's no time to burn bridges, to watch the cables snap.
Edges will bleed as shadows fade.
Track Name: Dum Vivimus, Vivamus
These relationships of fear
we allow to control our lives
drives us towards acceptance
and complacency.

We make no demands
and fail to see that our
destiny is in our hands.

We are the two feet standing
on the edge of unyielding.
We take a step because
escape is only dangerous
to jailers.
Track Name: Human Error
beautiful depictions
perfectly written
no misspelled words
just factual error
subject to these records
so much has been severed
will false impressions impress anyone

we have confidence that is drowning us
in shallow conviction heart stops beating
the surface is tense because we can't admit
blind to the faults that lie within us all

am I staring at
where I should stand focusing
on details now
in my hands
casually disintegrating
we build statues out of what we want to see

we are weaker that the shelves that hold our pride
we are weak and it's ourselves that we can't hide
Track Name: Rough Draft Culture
We are all the same in the eyes of those who would hold us back. Those who would strike us down.
This is a footnote written from the subjects to the author,
written in all capitols and spelled in honest cries.
You've made sincerity a form of subversive action
and without compromise we're thankful to defy.
These are the notes struck from chords in scratchy throats because flowers seldom bloom without song.

We're rewriting
your rough draft culture
brick by brick.
They would have us believe
that we are all the same.
We are all to blame.
We should be ashamed
We are all the same.
Track Name: Phyrric Victory
We are fighting a war of attrition.
It relies on human ammunition.
We are the Weapons. We are the dead.
We are the declarations already made.
We are the bricks. We are the wall.
We are the wrecker. We are the fall.
We are the bombs. We are the seeds,
the indelible consequence of blood thirst and greed.

An endless war between our conscience and our integrity.

No hope makes no reasons.
No reasons make no actions.
No actions make no change.
No change makes no hope.

"Love it or leave it."
Leaves no room to change it.
Track Name: Washed Off
Do I really believe that there's no god?
Do I really believe with all my heart?
Do I really believe that everything will stop?
When I was smarter than I am now,
I would pray to god and make him promise.
When I was smarter with all riddles solved,
I would pray to god and make him promise.
I have since lost what was never there.
Do not tell me that you are carrying me.
That stupid footprints poster,
hanging on the bathroom wall,
does not comfort me at all.
Such a lovely sincere portrait.

(Do I really believe that there is a god?
Is blind faith a form of blindness or a form of faith?
Is an answer even applicable if the question is asked in desperation?
Let us trouble heaven with our honest cries and see if god is really there.
If it's a sin to believe in just me,
I will suffer for my sincerity.)
Track Name: Dear Departed
To young to understand what age just can't defend.
What's stolen from within is the theft of ones innocence.
Without any consent the truth falls into our hands,
but we can't hold onto it.
It takes our breath and our bodies collapse.

When you look at the truth do you see it's intrusion?

Before he reached the bottom of the stairs,
death pushed him and took him there.
I am stuck on a couple of questions and the answers they only seem like suggestions.
There must be something that I'm forgetting.
I can't remember your memory.
I can't remember your face.
Track Name: Dear Bob, I Quit
When we sell ourselves for pay,
we're buying into our decay.
There is a price on our head.
A lying wage for a dying age.
Earning dollars, making no sense,
buying death, I'm not dead... YET.

I'm sick of waiting for the antidote.
I drank the poison like I didn't know,
that I would be unhappy doing what doesn't interest me.
I can't stay here any longer,
only to dissolve into another hour,
getting closer to being trapped.
The antidote was the exit.
Track Name: Building A Toll Plaza Between Your Heart And Mind
Why can't we understand this,
without drawing a line around it,
without defining ourselves or our stance,
without seeming like we wouldn't want to take that chance?
Thoughts based in binary are one step closer to boundaries.

Insecurity becomes mythology,
becomes ideology,
becomes necessary,
to prop up our fears,
to hold up our fear.

But when the rule of law is used as ammunition,
we bleed dry before we fall,
because any law that governs love,
is a wound that we may never heal.

We can't be carried away,
by emotions that are handcuffed.
If it makes you feel uncomfortable,
forget what you were unable to feel on your own.
Posing the question to what is so obvious.
So much is damaged by not understanding,
the negative difference that we have made.

We can't be both innocent and a silent witness.
We can't be silent now.