New music from Khruangbin, Hiroki Ono and Ryoko Ono
Khruangbin
Con Todo El Mundo
(Dead Oceans/Night Time Stories)
Con Todo El Mundo, the second album from the Texas trio Khruangbin (Thai for “Engine Fly”), takes its name from a frequent exchange bassist Laura Lee had with her Mexican-American grandfather.
When he’d ask, “Cómo me quieres?” (“How much do you love me?”), she’d reply, “Con todo el mundo” (“With all the world”). Fittingly, Khruangbin makes music that draws from international sources and also evokes love, in the sort of elegantly sensual form.
While the group’s first album, The Universe Smiles Upon You, drew generously from ‘60s and ‘70s Thai funk, the new album moves toward the Middle East—in particular, pre-revolution Iranian pop. (Note that the band had previously covered Googoosh, the Iranian superstar singer.)
However, the undercurrent is one of American funk, primarily due to the adept, tight drumming of Donald “DJ” Johnson, who frequently channels the spirit of Clyde Stubblefield in the best possible ways.
Guitarist Mark Speer’s reverberating melodic lines are gently psychedelic, complementing Lee’s milky, smooth bass lines, and there’s an easy-going, fluid quality that interacts with the deep, funk rhythms. Every so often, there’s a flourish—maybe an odd scale or a quick rhythmic sequence—that reminds the listener of the band’s deceptive alchemy; on one level, its grooves go down easy, but also small, careful, exotic details are there for those paying attention.
While primarily an instrumental band, vocals sometimes make appearances in muted forms, like on the ‘70s-era soul-funk track “Lady and Man,” and the number “Evan Finds the Third Room” goes into disco funk territory—not in dance-fury mode, but in cool-down mode.
The irresistible vibe of “Maria También” might be what the Budos Band would sound like if reduced to a trio, and Speer’s restless solo melodies on the track are drenched in Eastern Mediterranean waters.
Khruangbin hasn’t yet plundered all the world for its musical excursions, but so far, it has created charming soul-funk that’s perfect for smoky make-out rooms all around the globe.
Hiroki Ono and Ryoko Ono
NEWDUO Series 004
(onoryoko.bandcamp.com)
Saxophonist and flautist Ryoko Ono has probably never met an extended technique she didn’t like, drawing from a large and rich palette of radical sounds with the ability to use challenging techniques like circular breathing and multi-phonics. She has played with such acts as Ruins, Acid Mothers Temple and Richard Pinhas, and her latest series of EP releases has her pairing up with choice partners for collaborative improvisational duos.
The fourth and latest installment in the series features electronics manipulator Hiroki Ono, who plays in the spastic and insane trio Gakusei Jikken Shitsu with Ryoko Ono, and it’s chaotic, to be sure, but with a playful attitude that avoids being oppressive (well, for listeners who aren’t newcomers to free improvisation—frankly, many will find this unlistenable).
At first, this writer believed that the title of the opening track “D#” referred to a pitch, since Ryoko lingers on a single pitch for a while, varying the timbre with an assortment of inflections and throwing in some jazzy, slight pitch bends; Hiroki Ono contributes methodically lonesome drum beats treated with reverb and synth rumblings before Ryoko finally breaks free from the single pitch.
Her high-pitched squeals erupt from her alto saxophone, merging with ear-shattering electronic high frequencies that give way to whooping tones. As the track progresses, things get messier and messier but they also get more joyful, surprisingly.
“A#” seems to be the sonic equivalent of rude noises and annoying mouth sounds, with screeches and sucking sounds, interacting with electronics that stutter and splatter, sometimes sounding like a person who had a gnat fly into his mouth and is trying to spit it out.
“B#” has a totally different personality, marked with Hiroki’s bright, chimpy sounds, some clear synth tones and zaps, perhaps resembling a video game possessed by the spirit of a hyperactive child, while Ryoko flutters and wrenches notes from her instrument.
Again, the mood changes completely for the final track, “E#,” with mysterious sustained tones, drones and hums that evoke windy storms with aural sheets; in the meantime, Ryoko wails on her sax, akin to some characteristic John Zorn playing, but ends up being more reserved, like a child hovering in mid-air in the corner of a room who has already explored every nook of her playhouse.