173: Electric Phin Band, by Khun Narin

Khun Narin (Thailand)
Electric Phin Band (2014)
4 tracks, 40 minutes
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The phin is a small, guitar-like lute from north-east Thailand. It only has three strings, two of which are played and the lowest of which is struck to make a drone, and it’s traditionally used to accompany folk music such as molam and to provide instrumental entertainment in community celebrations in the countryside. Khun Narin’s music is in the latter sphere; the only thing that really sets them apart from tradition is the fact that their phin, played by Sitthichai Charoenkhwan, is electric, played through a homemade sound system together with some distortion and some delay.

But that small innovation gained this village band a worldwide audience. After seeing a video of the group performing in their village, an American producer headed out and helped them to cut an album, recorded at one of their usual gatherings. Electric Phin Band is the result. Critics were falling over themselves to liken the music to something they knew – ‘psychedelic’ is always the word that’s used, and it’s often compared to styles such as surf rock, jam band, funk and punk, and even the Congotronics sound of bands like Konono No.1. For my money, I hear clear echoes of Tuareg guitar music in the pentatonic scales and loping rhythms of Charoenkhwan’s phin and Latin jazz in the bass guitar of Chaiphichit Tarapha.

This is one of those curious cases of parallel evolution. This is music that holds so much in its scales, rhythms and tonalities; I don’t think it is frivolous to compare it to all those musical styles, because there are definite similarities to all of them in some way or another, and that’s something the ears love to latch onto. It’s more of a coincidence than any real cultural connection, though – at the end of the day, this music is just the most modern take on the repertoire that has been performed in the region for generations.

Just as the music of the khaen – another molam instrument of north-east Thailand and Laos – sounds impossibly funky when playing its traditional style, the phin seemingly only needs an amp and a few small effects to trigger connections in listeners from all over the world. I find it rather comforting – even though it’s quite odd – how humans producing art on completely different sides of the globe, often with very little cultural connection, still tend surprisingly often to similar aesthetics of tune, rhythm and structure.