MORDECHAI

Spike Sidor

6 years ago

KHRUANGBIN

2020 PSYCH-FUNK/SOUL/INSTRUMENTAL

Mordechai is the third studio album by psychedelic funk band Khruangbin. Up until this point I was not aware of who Khruangbin were but seeing the enormous buzz that they have received over this release piqued my interest. On top of that publications described them performing genre gymnastics with psych funk, largely instrumental tracks, and a world music influence encompassing multiple locales. All these things existing within a band’s sonic palette should make for, at the very least, a unique experience . Even the band’s name, Khruangbin, means flying machine in Thai, a name that intrigues; in my mind suggesting an off-the-wall globe trotting tour of musical flavors. Despite how the name implies, this album never takes off, it is simply the aforementioned qualities at their most watered down; a funk puree of wallpaper mood music for “good vibes” seekers.

The assertion that their music is influenced by foreign sounds is rather insulting on this particular album. Hardly anything can be pinpointed of being clearly from any culture other than the dancy latin jam Pelota but in the end the track just sounds less like a song of their own making and more like a cover with a glazed over vocal delivery. It’s the kind of track I would expect to be played at a countryside bar, but instead of entertainment it falls flat, the robots playing it have yet to be programmed with an understanding of the complex concept of “fun”. But that’s half way through the record. The opener, ironically titled First Class, is fairly representative of what’s to come. Wavy guitars washed out in reverb, light percussion, and clear bass leading the way. This one in particular has vocals that hang in the back, creating a real “chill” atmosphere. Which translates to boring, horrifically boring, any superlative you’d like boring. More up front vocals are thrown in lazily on Time (You and I) whose chorus is so painfully generic but makes me roll my eyes continuously during its ad nauseum repetition.

Thats life
If we had more time
We could live forever
Just you and I
We could be together

The next track, Connaissais de Face, features some completely lifeless spoken word at near porn level acting delivery of two people reminiscing and riffing generally. I genuinely can’t tell if this is supposed to be satirizing an inane conversation between two bougie socialites or if Khruangbin are so unself-aware they think this has any meaning. If it were any other album Father Bird, Mother Bird would be classified as a disappointing do-nothing interlude but nope, here it’s just another track. The next snoozer, If There Is No Question, once again has vocals that are performed at such an inexpressive level that they are crushed beneath the heel of those watery guitars and samey baselines. The listener is treated to somehow the most laughable chorus on the album.

You’re wild
But you’re not crazy

No joke, and barely mumbled out on the passionless psych funk pastiche that is being served up all record long. The rest of the track listing repeats my complaints to the very letter. Seriously, and on an even more ironic title than First Class with One to Remember. The vocals are buried even deeper whilst the instrumental formula is altered ever so slightly by adding a light sensual Caribbean flavor, still bland as can be. So We Won’t Forget throws in a, dare I say, fun tropical tone that livens up the mood. This time the buried vocals feel more appropriate with the feet in the sand, corona in hand aesthetics. It’s not good but any improvement over its peers will be gladly taken. I can barely even recall the closing track Shida after multiple listens, it’s just so damn painfully devoid of life. The exact nonsense the listener has been force fed by our hellish waiters for the past forty odd minutes.

I can’t stand Mordechai, it frustrates and begs the question. How is this popular? Is this just for bougie twenty somethings to listen to while on tropical vacations? Is it designed to be inoffensive background noise at a rooftop shindig? The songs are just so incredibly blasé, two minutes into a five minute long track I get the feeling that the band has already run the current idea dry but the listener has to endure the remainder of the runtime of them playing it out. It is an album so inoffensive it’s turned offensive, it’s everything I don’t want in music, uncreative, unengaging, unfun, not unlistenable but damn would I prefer to never hear it again.

2/10

MORDECHAI

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