Based in the Thai province of Phetchabun, the multi-generational Khun Narin ensemble made their official global debut back in 2014 with Electric Phin Band. The group’s first release on Los Angeles label Innovative Leisure featured four tracks and 40 minutes of live performance centered around a plugged-in version of a phin, a lute that comes from the Laos-Thailand borderlands. It was at once familiar and brand new. The 2000s saw a surge in Southeast Asian pop compilation album reissues on archival labels, often related to the US military presence in the region during the 1960s and 1970s.
The psychedelic flow Khun Narin offered seemed to follow directly from this past, while also sounding wholly original. II (2016) followed suit as a breath of fresh, entrancing air, albeit with more tracks and shorter ones. A full decade later, the painstakingly produced new album III, their first recorded in a formal studio setting, seems like it might finally get this incomparable band the traction it deserves.
III puts every one of the band’s strengths on display. Resplendent and reverb-heavy as ever, the phin (played by Nattapol Soison, known as Bas) takes the melodic lead for the vast majority of the album, sometimes gently rolling, sometimes shredding. Supporting Bas is a backbone of bass guitar (Thiraphat Onta, aka Milk) and percussion (Wallop Sangaroon, aka Pao, on congas and tenor drum; Akchadawut Nangngam, aka Oat, on kit; Wirot Yakham, aka Pho Rin, on chap cymbal and serving as bandleader). It’s a crew of consummate professionals who know how to make tight sonic spirals. The well-practiced chemistry among them is clear from start to finish, keeping the group from falling into chaos. Indeed, even loaded with echoes and reiterations, there’s a finesse to each track that makes for a clear journey through the album.
At the production helm is Tommy Brenneck, known especially for performances and productions for Daptone Records acts and, increasingly, for his much wider range of musical work with artists from around the world. This experience with high-volume bands serves III well. Brenneck clearly understands how to give the Khun Narin ensemble enough sonic space to shine while also elevating the recording with generally subtle synth touches and extremely careful effects that underscore the scale of the band’s raw sound. At the end of the album, he takes a slightly more prominent role with the group on the Khun Narin cover of “Black Magic Woman”, a playful moment that stays fairly true to Santana‘s famed original while keeping the focus on the power of the phin. It’s a fun cover and a fitting tribute.
The real magic, though, is in witnessing the group’s chemistry throughout the album. It’s dazzling to hear them hit top speed revelry on opening track “Poet Wong Pt. 1” and then glide at a steady pace through the ethereal loops of “Sut Sanaen”. The groove of “Bang Fai Saen” offers a grounding warmth before the cymbal-heavy “Oen Ai Nae Doe Yam Thoe Mi Haeng” starts a full, fiery blaze, continued in the rapid-fire lines of “Siang Ta Noi”. Eerie organs and background pulses drive forth stormy standout “Phuthai JP”. The band steps lively on “Lam Sing” and sways through “Ai Num Chum Cho” before the rousing grand finale of “Poet Wong Pt. 2” concludes their original works.
Every single track on III is stunning, a testament to the organic nature of the Khun Narin ensemble and the skill of each member that cycles through. In a world where bands are increasingly finding success in being inspired by the sounds of Thai lute-based rock (Khruangbin as perhaps the most prominent example), it seems only fair that Khun Narin should have a chance to enjoy the limelight fully. While all of their records have been masterpieces, III is surely the best shot they’ve had so far at mass exposure. If there’s any justice in the music industry, it might just pay off.