Khancha: Uncaging the fear left behind

One does not need to be a genius to figure out that hidden behind the percussive beats of Dameer's latest single, which dropped on 06 August, lies a much deeper political theme.

With Khancha, Dameer Khan didn't just question or call out the fear-driven horrors of the previous regime—he channelled the everyday frustrations that come with living in this maddening, broken system we call Bangladesh. And if our ever-so-hyper opinionated know-it-alls in the Facebook comments section are anything to go by, the song so far has been received rather well.

While the global music scene usually follows a formula of teasers and pre-release hype, Khancha broke away from that trend. The song dropped unexpectedly, with little buildup or fanfare, making its arrival all the more surprising.

"We shot the music video back in March and wanted to release it around the anniversary of the uprising, but as usual, when it comes to projects, it got delayed. The next best window was August, which is why we released it now," said Dameer.

Dameer offered deeper insight into the meaning behind Khancha, revealing that the lyrics revolve around recurring themes tied to the brutal legacy of the previous regime and the culture of fear it left behind.

A key inspiration, he shared, came from the collective paranoia during last year's internet blackout—a time when rumours ran rampant, and many felt they were being watched, their phones and social media under surveillance. 

It felt like everyone was trapped in an invisible cage. That sentiment is perfectly captured in lines like "Pakhir dana kete felle khancha laage na", a powerful metaphor for how fear clips our wings and makes the cage feel redundant.

"The song, at its core, is about the frustrations of living in Bangladesh," Dameer explained. "I believe we all carry a sense of patriotism, but it often feels paradoxical—because when you really look at the daily struggles and injustices people face here, it's not exactly an easy country to love."

Dameer didn't shy away from taking pointed jabs at the outgoing figures of the previous regime either. In lines like "Mittha Kotha Bhaloi Moja, Tomar Hashi Nai," he calls out the flood of lies the public was fed—highlighting how, when the uprising hit, those once-smiling liars quickly vanished. Many are now either in hiding or facing legal consequences behind bars, their smirks wiped clean.

Dameer shared that he felt the song needed a second act—something more anthemic, a call to action. "That's when I came up with 'Merudondo shoja koro Bangali'," he said, describing it as a rallying cry for Bangladeshis to rise up and reclaim the ideals they once believed a newly liberated nation would uphold—but which, time and again, have fallen painfully short.

Stepping away from the song's heavy themes, the music itself deserves just as much attention. What immediately stands out is the high-quality production and how meticulously crafted the song sounds. It's a seamless blend, rooted in classic Bangla folk but elevated with modern sonic elements.

"It's built on a typical ¾ triplet Bangla rhythm," Dameer explained. "I layered in a lot of percussion—some with Middle Eastern influences, others using modern techniques, not too different from what I did in Bashbo Bhalo. The goal was to preserve the essence of folk while giving it a modern edge."

Compared to his earlier tracks—which Dameer himself describes as having a bit of "wish-wash production" with psychedelic tonalities—Khancha marks a clear evolution. The production on this track is noticeably tighter, more refined, and reflects a newfound sense of maturity in his sound. It's a step forward, both sonically and artistically.

Over the past year or two, Dameer took a detour in his musical journey, stepping into the world of DJ-ing. He was spotted spinning grooves at intimate private shows in Bangladesh, where the youth happily danced to his sets. We asked him the reasons for the shift.

"I was caught in a legal dispute with my previous management, and I didn't have access to my own Spotify page," Dameer revealed. "That meant I couldn't release any new music. And let's be real—how many times can I keep performing Amar Jaan on stage?"

That's when he pivoted, partly "to pay the bills," into DJing. And as it turns out, the move has been both musically refreshing and financially sustainable for the artiste.

"While going through the DJ phase, I realised just how big the music scene is in Canada," said Dameer, who's currently residing there. "Every DJ show here has its own theme, and the shows are marketed differently. There was a lot to take in, but it really helped me understand the fundamentals of the music business."

Still, Dameer faced a wave of online backlash when news of his DJing first surfaced—unsurprising in a country like Bangladesh, where electronic music and the culture around it still face stigma. "Yeah, it felt like the whole country turned on me," he admitted. "But at least Khancha has been well received so far."

Looking ahead, Dameer believes he's reached a point in his career where he has built a fanbase—and a responsibility to deliver music worth listening to. "There's no point making new music if it can't bring even a few hundred people into a venue," he said. "All I care about is whether my Bangladeshi audience connects with it. That being said, I do believe everything I've released so far has sounded fresh—probably the freshest in the country at the time."