Khruangbin Organic Grooves 10 Items

The trio's collective musical DNA, the years spent constructing it in Houston's local-meets-global cultural stew, ensures the band continues to sound like no one but itself. A cascade of crisp melodies emanates from Marko's reverb-heavy electric, dancing gently around Laura Lee's minimalist almost-dub bass triangles, while DJ's drums serve as the tightened-up pocket and unwavering dance-floor on which all this movement takes place. Yet there's a freshness to A La Sala's instrumental interactivity, less concerned with getting further out than going deeper in, a profound desire to celebrate the world's external wonders. Where prior albums strived towards music's polyglot edges, such inquiries now sound like beloved intimacies. Here, Khruangbin's sonic touch-points - whether spaghetti-western film scores (on "Fifteen Fifty-Three"), West African discos (on "Pon Pón"), G-funk fantasias ("Todavía Viva"), living room dancing moments (the first single, "A Love International"), or even ambient found-sounds (on "Farolim de Felgueiras” and throughout the album) - are ingrained characteristics. This is who they are! Unique and huge (and growing), ambitious and driven. Khruangbin's aspirations and commitment to playful creativity even extends to A La Sala's vinyl packages, of which there will be seven distinctive covers and color-sets. Designed by the band using Marko's multitude of travelog photos, the images are windows from the band's living room onto a set of daydreams, scenes of impossible skies, external glances that illuminate what is going on inside. Each cover image comes with a matching color vinyl. These too are all about looking out and looking back, in order to better look ahead.

Taking influence from 1960's Thai funk - their name literally translates to "Engine Fly" in Thai - Khruangbin’s debut album ‘The Universe Smiles Upon You’ is steeped in the bass heavy, psychedelic sound of their inspiration, Tarantino soundtracks and surf-rock cool. The Texan trio is formed of Laura Lee on bass, Mark Speer on guitar, and Donald “DJ” Johnson on drums.

‘The Universe Smiles Upon You’ was recorded at their spiritual home, a remote barn deep in the Texas countryside where their first rehearsals took place. The band listened to a lot of different types of music on the long drives out to the country but their favourites were 60s and 70s Thai cassettes gleaned from the cult Monrakplengthai blog and compilations of southeast Asian pop, rock and funk. This had a heavy impact on the direction of the band, the scales they used and the inflection of the melodies; which coupled with the spaciousness of the Texan countryside culminated in Khruangbin forming their exotic, individual sound.

Repress on black vinyl in regular sleeve.

The trio's collective musical DNA, the years spent constructing it in Houston's local-meets-global cultural stew, ensures the band continues to sound like no one but itself. A cascade of crisp melodies emanates from Marko's reverb-heavy electric, dancing gently around Laura Lee's minimalist almost-dub bass triangles, while DJ's drums serve as the tightened-up pocket and unwavering dance-floor on which all this movement takes place. Yet there's a freshness to A La Sala's instrumental interactivity, less concerned with getting further out than going deeper in, a profound desire to celebrate the world's external wonders. Where prior albums strived towards music's polyglot edges, such inquiries now sound like beloved intimacies. Here, Khruangbin's sonic touch-points - whether spaghetti-western film scores (on "Fifteen Fifty-Three"), West African discos (on "Pon Pón"), G-funk fantasias ("Todavía Viva"), living room dancing moments (the first single, "A Love International"), or even ambient found-sounds (on "Farolim de Felgueiras” and throughout the album) - are ingrained characteristics. This is who they are! Unique and huge (and growing), ambitious and driven. Khruangbin's aspirations and commitment to playful creativity even extends to A La Sala's vinyl packages, of which there will be seven distinctive covers and color-sets. Designed by the band using Marko's multitude of travelog photos, the images are windows from the band's living room onto a set of daydreams, scenes of impossible skies, external glances that illuminate what is going on inside. Each cover image comes with a matching color vinyl. These too are all about looking out and looking back, in order to better look ahead.

Khruangbin has always been multilingual, weaving far-flung musical languages like East Asian surf-rock, Persian funk, and Jamaican dub into mellifluous harmony. But on its third album, it's finally speaking out loud. Mordechai features vocals prominently on nearly every song, a first for the mostly instrumental band. It's a shift that rewards the risk, reorienting Khruangbin's transportive sound toward a new sense of emotional directness, without losing the spirit of nomadic wandering that's always defined it. And it all started with them coming home. By the summer of 2019, the Houston group_bassist Laura Lee Ochoa, guitarist Mark Speer, drummer DJ Johnson_had been on tour for nearly three-and-ahalf years, playing to audiences across North and South America, Europe, and southeast Asia behind its acclaimed albums The Universe Smiles Upon You and Con Todo El Mundo. They returned to their farmhouse studio in Burton, Texas, ready to begin work on their third album. But they were also determined to slow down, to take their time and luxuriate in building something together. Musically, the band's ever-restless ear saw it pulling reference points from Pakistan, Korea, and West Africa, incorporating strains of Indian chanting boxes and Congolese syncopated guitar. But more than anything, the album became a celebration of Houston, the eclectic city that had nurtured them, and a cultural nexus where you can check out country and zydeco, trap rap, or avant-garde opera on any given night. In those years away from home, Khruangbin's members often felt like they were swimming underwater, unsure of where they were going, or why they were going there. But Mordechai leads them gently back to the surface, allowing them to take a breath, look around, and find itself again. It is a snapshot taken along a larger journey_a moment all the more beautiful for its impermanence. And it's a memory to revisit again and again, speaking to us now more clearly than ever.

The trio's collective musical DNA, the years spent constructing it in Houston's local-meets-global cultural stew, ensures the band continues to sound like no one but itself. A cascade of crisp melodies emanates from Marko's reverb-heavy electric, dancing gently around Laura Lee's minimalist almost-dub bass triangles, while DJ's drums serve as the tightened-up pocket and unwavering dance-floor on which all this movement takes place. Yet there's a freshness to A La Sala's instrumental interactivity, less concerned with getting further out than going deeper in, a profound desire to celebrate the world's external wonders. Where prior albums strived towards music's polyglot edges, such inquiries now sound like beloved intimacies. Here, Khruangbin's sonic touch-points - whether spaghetti-western film scores (on "Fifteen Fifty-Three"), West African discos (on "Pon Pón"), G-funk fantasias ("Todavía Viva"), living room dancing moments (the first single, "A Love International"), or even ambient found-sounds (on "Farolim de Felgueiras” and throughout the album) - are ingrained characteristics. This is who they are! Unique and huge (and growing), ambitious and driven. Khruangbin's aspirations and commitment to playful creativity even extends to A La Sala's vinyl packages, of which there will be seven distinctive covers and color-sets. Designed by the band using Marko's multitude of travelog photos, the images are windows from the band's living room onto a set of daydreams, scenes of impossible skies, external glances that illuminate what is going on inside. Each cover image comes with a matching color vinyl. These too are all about looking out and looking back, in order to better look ahead.

“The art of the remix has been around for several decades, from the fervid imaginations of JA pioneers like Coxsone Dodd, Duke Reid or King Tubby to the disco enthusiasts of New York, such as Tom Moulton, who bequeathed us the modern iteration of the remix and provided a template from which most remixers still work. Moulton's first commercial remix, a reworking of BT Express' appropriately-named `Do It 'Till You're Satisfied', which stretched it from three minutes to a luxurious five, assisted the band in securing its first Billboard R&B Number One, as well as providing a pathway for remixers like Walter Gibbons, Larry Levan, Richie Rivera and Tee Sott, to completely reinvent the concept of a remix (and in some instances, deconstructing the idea of what comprised a song). It has subsequently been used as a marketing tool, a dancefloor-devastator, a gimmick (both cheap and expensive) or even as a way of reaching a different audience (think Tori Amos' `Professional Widow'). Khruangbin are no slouches when it comes to the remix themselves. They've been reworked before, in 2016, with the highly collectible EP on Boogiefuturo. But this time, they're taking it a step further with an album dedicated to the art. Entering the tight-knit world of a Khruangbin song can be a little daunting. They have created this entire universe in which the trio seem to function telepathically in the way the music is composed, arranged and played. To mess with their delicate eco-system can invoke feelings similar to that of an unwanted guest crashing a good-time party. "We write our music to be interpreted; this is another wonderful interpretation of the music," reassure Khruangbin. "There is something very vulnerable about letting others work on your music. But through the correspondence with the different artists, we gained a bigger connection to the songs themselves." The choice of remixers for this album is neither arbitrary nor accidental. They're not names picked randomly out of a hat or chosen via a throw of the dice. All have some connection to the band, sometimes personal friendships, musical connections, or simply mutual musical appreciation. Harvey Sutherland and Ginger Roots have both toured with the band, Kadhja Bonet and Ron Trent had their own mutual fan club going on, Knxwledge sampled `White Gloves' on a recent mixtape, Natasha Diggs and Soul Clap's Eli's are recent buddy-ups, Quantic is a mutual friend of Bonobo (crucial in the KB origin story), while I've known Laura for number of years; plus she is also godmother to one of Felix Dickinson's kids. Doesn't get much more intimate than that, right? Some of these remixes were specifically made so you can dance your ass off while getting down to the Khruangbin sound, while some might better be appreciated horizontally with headphones on, wearing fashionably loose clothes. The choice is yours. But all were made with love and respect for Khruangbin. "A good remix deconstructs, recontextualizes, or simply extends a good time," say the band. Amen and out." - Bill Brewster

Khruangbin has always been multilingual, weaving far-flung musical languages like East Asian surf-rock, Persian funk, and Jamaican dub into mellifluous harmony. But on its third album, it's finally speaking out loud. Mordechai features vocals prominently on nearly every song, a first for the mostly instrumental band. It's a shift that rewards the risk, reorienting Khruangbin's transportive sound toward a new sense of emotional directness, without losing the spirit of nomadic wandering that's always defined it. And it all started with them coming home. By the summer of 2019, the Houston group_bassist Laura Lee Ochoa, guitarist Mark Speer, drummer DJ Johnson_had been on tour for nearly three-and-ahalf years, playing to audiences across North and South America, Europe, and southeast Asia behind its acclaimed albums The Universe Smiles Upon You and Con Todo El Mundo. They returned to their farmhouse studio in Burton, Texas, ready to begin work on their third album. But they were also determined to slow down, to take their time and luxuriate in building something together. Musically, the band's ever-restless ear saw it pulling reference points from Pakistan, Korea, and West Africa, incorporating strains of Indian chanting boxes and Congolese syncopated guitar. But more than anything, the album became a celebration of Houston, the eclectic city that had nurtured them, and a cultural nexus where you can check out country and zydeco, trap rap, or avant-garde opera on any given night. In those years away from home, Khruangbin's members often felt like they were swimming underwater, unsure of where they were going, or why they were going there. But Mordechai leads them gently back to the surface, allowing them to take a breath, look around, and find itself again. It is a snapshot taken along a larger journey_a moment all the more beautiful for its impermanence. And it's a memory to revisit again and again, speaking to us now more clearly than ever.