I had an out-of-body experience in 2020. And before anyone says anything, I know we all experienced some crazy things that year, but this is my story.  

It was a typical day of quarantine, and I was reaching peak hours of succumbing to another day of the inevitable ennui and helplessness of isolation when my brother strummed a glorious bass guitar riff from the living room. My ears had just witnessed sounds they had never dreamed imaginable. 

Funky, tangy, spaghetti-y or sun-kissed, like indulgent orange chocolate, didn’t even begin to describe it. That was the first time I had ever heard a song by Khruangbin. I haven’t been the same since. 

I entered a four-year-long phase of listening to their entire discography on repeat.

You may be wondering, “shouldn’t you be sick of them by now?” The simple answer is yes, I should be. But the truth is, with every listen, I notice new subtly profound musical elements that the band has (once again) cheekily snuck under my nose – like the smoothest 6/4 time signature groove I’ve ever heard – which has kept me coming back for more. 

That’s why April 5 was such an exciting day for me. On that fateful morning, the band dropped their first LP since 2020 –  “A LA SALA”. The countdown was finally over. My ears would finally experience that refreshing pure bliss once more. 

I’m happy to report that Khruangbin did not disappoint. They delivered the same unmistakable sound that’s kept me a loyal listener for the past four years. Returning to the sonic labyrinth of day one, the album is nothing beyond the landscapes they’ve already transcended. It’s nothing groundbreaking, nothing that struck music critics as an indicator that they were reinventing themselves – if anything, it’s quieter and calmer but just as captivating.  

Simply put: the band knows what they do best, and they know their best is what true fans want. In staying true to themselves, this album is audible reassurance, a bear hug, a kiss on the forehead of listeners worldwide.  

Khruangbin truly embodies what it means to perceive the voice as an instrument – not a part of every song but used purposefully when it is. That’s why tracks like “May Ninth,” “Pon Pón,” “Hold Me Up (Thank You)” and “Todavía Viva,” which all find the sweet spot between vocal contributions, strings and percussion, are perfect for new listeners who are just getting used to the often lyric-less songs.  

For the more seasoned listeners, songs like “Juegos y Nubes” and “A Love International” sound like true homages to their previous album “Con Todo El Mundo.” “Farolim de Felgueiras” tickles your left ear, “Les Petit Gris” fills you with an urge to do an interpretive ballet dance or meditate, and “Ada Jean” makes you feel like a cat on the prowl.  

If you agree or disagree with how these songs make you feel, then Khruangbin has produced nothing less than a successful album. This is what the band’s been achieving all along – each song is left up to the listener’s interpretation. The listening circumstances are versatile, too. Whether it’s a pensive car ride, study session, shower, dinner, or you’re doing laundry, there’s a Khruangbin song sure to elevate the ambiance. 

Four years later, it’s safe to say that I can wear a shirt with this obscure band’s name on it and successfully name 5 songs. I’ve become the biggest Khruangbin fan I know. It’s also safe to say that I personally don’t know many Khruangbin fans, and that’s exactly why I’m writing this article. The band deserves more widespread recognition, and A LA SALA is the album that will deliver that.