The Last Offering: Kaneng Lolang

Kaneng Lolang’s journey of a thousand steps has seen her touch the floor in many a land spanning many a continent. Fresh from releasing her debut EP “The Last Offering“ out of the creative dungeon that is Brooklyn, NYC, bespoke asked her at this moment in time to take a brief glance at her own reflection and tell us a bit of what she saw. Let’s begin.

Words & Image: Kaneng Lolang// Edit: Ade Bankole

Who is Kaneng Lolang?

Kaneng Lolang is a somewhat successful biochemical experiment of Berom and Bulgarian components. I began as an entertainer for the illest of small fish perpetrators in the shady bars of sunny Lagos to thus far find myself as a visual artist, film maker, dancer and musician. “The Last Offering” is a brief seam through the primal, west African and Balkan folk, blues and free-jazz, to the psychedelic, soulful glory of
the recent past and finally, to a space freed of association. Essentially, it is an introduction to my sonic home and a personal artistic statement made in New York, the furthest away I have been from my cultures of origin. My musical mission wishes to grow to defy the gravity of the momentary, the main intention being the creation of my own musical vernacular. If you will be my ally in this undertaking, I will host the spirits to your splendid favour.

What is my most vivid childhood memory?

Being 7 years old in Komi, Siberia. Which at the time was a place the Russian government denied the existence of. It's where the victims of Stalin’s Gulag were sent to perish in forced labour camps, eventually it ended up being land for natural resources raping, with mass graves and all. A Cold, brilliant, bright day in the town square, curiously observing an old man swig pink aftershave from an ornate fake crystal bottle. His pleasured grunt as it trickled down his throat. Vodka was banned you see, it made the workers lazy.

Who are the vocalists that have influenced me?

The world is old and common spirits host our music, more so I feel an adoration, affinity to other vocalists. We nod at each other across time and a spiritual parallel. A few, Diamanda Galas is the unsurpassed truth. It’s a sad shame that there are people out there that would limit themselves by seeing her as just a goth. She affirms life. An awe-inspiring vocalist and a devastating pianist. Beyond mere talent, this great woman exists. The world needs to do itself a favour and buy out “Guilty Guilty Guilty“. The incredible Colette Magny. Vladimir Visotsky, Esma Redjepova, Eugene McDaniel’s” Headless Heroes of The Apocalypse is one of my favourite records. Here is a black man in the 60’s with all its uprisings and civil rights movements, who was able to see beyond his own condition to save his raging monstrous wail for what happened not to his own people, but to the native Americans. The grunts and howls of my Great grandmothers. So much to love and loathe about Eugene S. Robinson! The heroes of the Ajegunle slum in Lagos. By far the most resourceful artists I know of. They do not compromise their vision, be it criminal or musical. I love the tone and intention of folkloric singers, the pre-industry manner of thrusting out the voice is grandiose, an ode to the truth, be it the tortured wailings of the Balkans, the early blues, ritualistic praise songs or west African deity summons. I believe the human voice springs from a mysterious source, it fashions itself from psychic material. I hold no ownership of my voice. It springs from depths I am yet to understand, all I feel is that at this moment in time my ancestors, the battered, the shunned ex-goddesses and gods are awaiting good news in exile.

Cats or Dogs?

I hate cats. They are not pack animals, only manipulative opportunists, like low women. I am perpetually stunned at the claim of their supposed mysticism. Cat faeces contains a parasite which leads to mental illness and schizophrenia. Scientists are even working on a vaccine for cat owners. No shit, it’s serious. Cats are nature’s chemical warfare against us. I am likely to be tolerant only when encountered on the streets, surviving, what they do best. I trust dogs, though by tradition, my people eat them. I suspect that may be messing up our karma.



What are my fears?

The possibility that I may not be able to resolve certain issues solely through my art, that I may have to resort to other means. The possibility that cultural identity may no longer validate my kind of human hybrid. It may be that all that ever is, is spiritual reality. Geographical reality, artificially created nation states, the fractured, degraded communities of my origin do not hold me and allow me to be myself. I question the success of my chemical make-up. There are people I’d love to have killed, and the fact that I am okay with it frightens me at times. But its all love of course. It’s all from the bottom of my heart. I accept my fears.




For a free download of Kaneng Lolang’s “The Last Offering” go to www.kanenglolang.com
Myspace.com/kanenglolang