Khruangbin review – exquisite dreamy grooves get lost in the ether
Houston three-piece Khruangbin (Thai for aeroplane) are a bit bluesy, a bit psychedelic, a bit funky, but always mellow – intricate and sophisticated musicianship in the service of the groove. They write dreamy songs that burble away in the background, stroking the pleasure centres of the brain.
Seeing the band live is an opportunity to focus, to really listen, to watch them play and interplay. The trouble, in Glasgow at least, is that they are performing in an arena far too big for the way they choose to present themselves. Their popularity has reached the point where it is diminishing their impact.
The staging is simple: a flight of stairs leading up to a blank wall with three arched windows; some moody lighting, a lot of dry ice.
In the first half of the set, they play the new album A La Sala in full and in order. It’s mid-paced, a little melancholy, mostly instrumental. There is time to appreciate bassist Laura Lee Ochoa’s outfit. Her style choices have been profiled in Vanity Fair and are a significant part of the Khruangbin aesthetic and vibe. She is wearing a white floral headband and a white tutu over baggy white trousers; white socks, no shoes. She seems, at times, to glide across the stage. Everything happens slowly. Each movement that she and guitarist Mark Speer make – a bent knee, a bowed head, the raised neck of a guitar – feels choreographed. Speer and drummer Donald Johnson Jr share a background playing in a church band, and there is something faintly liturgical about the performance. Khruangbin do not smile and do not speak to the crowd until towards the end of the evening.
All of this has a distancing effect, which is a creative decision and would be fine if we were not already distanced by the size of the venue. There are no big screens (I took binoculars) and the result is that you feel you’re watching something quite interesting happening quite far away. In a smaller room, this show could be exquisite. As it is: frustrating.
