On the eclectic instrumental band’s newest, A LA SALA, the bassist pledges to “just play what sounds good and what feels good.”
“Bass playing is like humming to me,” says Khruangbin’s Laura Lee Ochoa. “I hum to myself all the time. It’s very in-your-body. It’s also one note, it can be as melodic as I want it to be, and it’s simple. It was something that just resonated with me.”
Ochoa is describing the epiphany that brought her to the bass back in 2009, when she was working as a third-grade math teacher. First learning piano with help from her pal, guitarist Mark Speer, she recalls, “I was trying to play along to a song and he said to follow the bass. Then I picked one up, and it weirdly made sense to me.” It was a monumental event—the catalyst for just about everything that followed.
Soon, Ochoa quit her teaching job to go on tour with Speer in the shoegaze band Yppah. “It was five people staying in a Motel 6 every night, flipping a quarter for who slept on a bed,” she remembers. “We were in a minivan, I had no amp, I was playing direct every night—it was that kind of tour. Our very last show was in Seattle, and we drove to Houston in one shot and didn’t stop. We were all crooked getting out of the van, and I looked at Mark and was like, ‘I wanna start a band.’”
Khruangbin - "Pon Pón"
Ochoa and Speer’s weekly hangs with Donald “DJ” Johnson Jr., a producer who played with Speer at a regular church gig, made assembling a band easy. “I didn’t know that DJ played drums,” says Ochoa, “because I knew him as an organ or keyboard player. Mark was like, ‘I’ve never heard DJ play drums, but I know he’ll play the way we want.’”
“I didn’t grow up ever thinking I’d play bass.”
Fast forward a few years of jamming, and Khruangbin released their debut, The Universe Smiles Upon You, in 2015. The trio caught the ears of listeners and critics with their unique stew of influences, the most immediate of which was vintage Thai funk, but international sounds from Peru to the Middle East were detectable. Speer played with the reverb-soaked twang of surf rock and the laid-back feel of soul jazz. Ochoa and Johnson served as his rhythmic foils, delivering tight grooves with both bounce and economy that were equal parts reggae, Motown, and lo-fi hip-hop.
Laura Lee Ochoa's Gear
Ochoa uses flats on her original SX J bass and never changes ’em.
Photo by Jordi Vidal
Bass
- SX J bass
Amp
- Acme Audio Motown DI
- Ampeg bass amp
Strings
- Flatwounds
Khruangbin skyrocketed to the tops of taste-making lists, drawing in record collectors and public radio listeners alike. Along the way, the band lived in their sound more deeply with every new project. And there have been many: They’ve now delivered four LPs, plus a pair of EPs with Leon Bridges, and Ali, a collaboration with Malian guitar virtuoso Vieux Farka Touré as a tribute to his legendary father, Ali Farka Touré.
On their newest album, A LA SALA, the band jump-started the writing process by digging into their vault of demos and jams, going as far back as one of Speers’ pre-Khruangbin demos of “May Ninth,” which dates from 2008. Other vault recordings came from throughout their career—“Ada Jean” was demoed around the time of their debut—while some songs are new. The goal, Ochoa says, was “to just be influenced by ourselves.” Like the Rolling Stones’ Tattoo You or Van Halen’s A Different Kind of Truth, both of which were created by archive-diving, there are no discernible differences between the old and new. They all simply sound like Khruangbin. “When I listen to the final product and what they turned into,” says Johnson of their vault recordings, “it’s incredible to me.”
While Ochoa and Johnson call Speer’s guitar the lead singer of the mostly instrumental group—though Ochoa’s voice is featured, it’s mostly as a background element—at the heart of the band’s sound is the deep, sympathetic rhythmic hookup between the three players, and much of that starts with the foundation laid down by Ochoa and Johnson. “A lot of times, it starts with DJ and I playing a bunch to lock in,” says Ochoa. “We’ll start smiling at each other, like, ‘We’re here now.’” Together, they bounce. They’re tight, but airy. The low end pumps enough to keep you moving, even on slower, lighter tunes, but their flow is always dynamic.
A LA SALA features all new recordings, but the songs are a mix of all-new compositions and some that consist of old riffs and parts dating as far back as 2008.
On 2020’s Mordechai, the band tweaked their formula and their feel. The songs leaned more toward poppy, dance grooves, and Ochoa’s breathy background vocals moved into the fore. Her playing changed as well. “I was trying to be complicated,” she explains. “I was trying to play things that were slightly less comfortable for myself because I was trying to go outside the box and play more notes or play faster.” It was an essential step in her internal relationship with the bass. “It’s like being a teenager in the lifespan of playing. I started out naively, and then I was like, ‘I know more, my fingers are more agile, I’m going to make this more complicated.’”
By pushing herself to the limit on Mordechai, Ochoa was able to find more of herself—the kind of stuff that really makes Laura Lee sound like Laura Lee—on A LA SALA. “I feel like with this record, I didn’t have that same need,” she says. Instead, she decided to “just play what sounds good and what feels good.”
“If you lose the fourth-finger thing, it creates a limitation, but for me it’s fun and bouncy.”
Whether on “Juegos y Nubes,” where she plays an on/off counterpoint to Speer’s guitar melody or “Three from Two,” where she injects melody into a mostly root/fifth pattern, her sound is immediately recognizable. Much of that is because of her melody-driven sensibility—her influences are more melodic, and she says she doesn’t really have favorite bassists. “I didn’t grow up ever thinking I’d play bass,” she points out.
Ochoa also credits her sound in part to her technique. “I don’t play with all four of my fingers, because I attach two of my fingers together,” she explains. “I’m not technically trained. Because of that, I think I play differently, and it changes the feel of the whole thing. Like James Jamerson playing with one finger, if you lose the fourth finger thing, it creates a limitation, but for me it’s fun and bouncy.”
And Ochoa’s sense of rhythm is a crucial part of her playing. It’s what helps sell the sound and makes it so infectious. “I play and practice Laura Lee bass lines because they’re fun to play,” says Johnson. “The stuff that you sit down and you play is the stuff that’s good and the stuff that you like. I’m always studying her placement. She has a very keen sense of rhythm that’s on top but doesn’t rush. It’s laid-back but it doesn’t drag. I’d be lying if I told you I’ve figured it out.”
YouTube It
The trio’s effortless mastery of groove and style is evident in this cover-filled set from the 2022 BBC 6 Music Festival.
- Vieux Farka Touré Looks Toward his Malian Roots and—with Khruangbin—a Dreamy Future ›
- Khruangbin’s Mark Speer: Addicted to Reverb ›
- Rig Rundown: Khruangbin ›
Another day, another pedal! Enter Stompboxtober Day 7 for your chance to win today’s pedal from Effects Bakery!
Effects Bakery MECHA-PAN BAKERY Series MECHA-BAGEL OVERDRIVE
Konnichiwa, guitar lovers! 🎸✨
Are you ready to add some sweetness to your pedalboard? Let’s dive into the adorable world of the Effects Bakery Mecha-Pan Overdrive, part of the super kawaii Mecha-Pan Bakery Series!
🍩 Sweet Treats for Your Ears! 🍩
The Mecha-Pan Overdrive is like a delicious bagel for your guitar tone, but it’s been upgraded to a new level of cuteness and functionality!
Effects Bakery has taken their popular Bagel OverDrive and given it a magical makeover. Imagine your favorite overdrive sound but with more elegance and warmth – it’s like hugging a fluffy cat while playing your guitar!
Is this the most affordable (and powerful) modeler around?
Very affordable way to get into digital modeling. Excellent crunch and high-gain tones.
Navigating many modes through limited controls means a bit of a learning curve for a pedal this small.
$179
IK Multimedia Tonex One
ikmultimedia.com
Resistance to digital amps might just be futile at this point. Many tunes you hear—and an increasing number of live gigs—feature a bit of faux-tube tone somewhere in the mix. But while the sound of pro-level modelers can be nearly indistinguishable from their analog counterparts in a mix, the feel and simplicity of a real amplifiers remain appealing and even indispensable to many players. That said, modelers that make usability, convenience, and price priorities can convince even die-hard tube users to see what’s on the other side of the fence. IK Multimedia’s TONEX ONE is one modeling device that might make the cut. It’s likely the smallest, most portable modeler out there. And at $179, it’s easily the most affordable.
Big Tones, Tiny Controls
The TONEX ONE isn’t designed to put a million different options at your feet, and that economy may be the unit’s strongest feature. It features several different modes, but the primary operating mode allows you to either switch between two different models, or simply use the unit as a stompbox. Each model can be an amp, an amp and cab, a pedal, or a pedal driving an amp and cab. Judging by how deep the online repository tone.net is for user-created presets, the options are nearly endless, which speaks to the already sizable user base. It’s a little strange to consider a modeler in a package this small with so few controls. There’s a large main knob that controls volume and gain (when you’re in ALT mode), and above that are three illuminated mini knobs that control the 3-band EQ, gate, compression, and reverb. You can also plug your headphones directly into the pedal, which makes it a dynamite silent practice amp.
My experience with modelers is that high-gain tones and clean tones are relatively easy to achieve and typically very good. After unboxing the TONEX ONE, I loaded up a slightly dirty Vox-style amp to evaluate the edge-of-breakup tones. I paired the pedal with humbuckers (with a coil split option), Stratocaster single coils, and P-90s in a T-style solidbody. With each one, the Vox-style amp was punchy and clear but could also range to very nice higher-gain sounds. Naturally, each version of a modeled amp offers different gain structures, so it pays to experiment. Combining the humbuckers in a PRS SE DGT with a few hot-rodded Marshall emulations and the growl offered tones nearly as good as those from much more expensive modelers. In a blind test, I’m not sure I could hear—or feel—much of a difference. As I explored further and fine-tuned things a bit more, the ToneX One felt more alive in my hand,s and sounded much less shrill in the top end than other digital solutions I’ve encountered.
One of the most obvious tone fixers in a modeler—and maybe one of the most underutilized—is the EQ section, and kudos are due to IK for placing those controls at the fore. Being able to adjust the most immediate tone-shaping options without having to dig through menus or touchscreens is a pleasure.
There are many possible uses for the TONEX ONE. It can serve as a high-quality direct solution on your pedalboard, a portable recording interface, and a plug-and-play practice solution when high volume is a no-go. One handy setup I tried was disabling the cabinet emulation in the pedal and then plugging into the effects return of a combo amp, in this case, a Fender Hot Rod Deluxe. I immediately imagined many backline amp headaches being a thing of the past. You can always plug directly into a flat-response cabinet or PA system too.
Because it has such a small footprint and streamlined controls, harnessing the unit’s full potential, and accessing all the different modes, takes a bit of effort. You can store 20 different presets within the pedal and assign them to any of the three active slots (two for dual mode and one for stomp mode). And although doing this on the fly is handy, I found it much easier to program the presets via the easy-to-use desktop editor.
The Verdict
TONEX ONE benefits from a rather singular focus and its biggest advantage is that it’s not shrouded in unnecessary layers of tweakable options. You can simply load up a base sound or two, drop it at the end of your pedalboard, and go.The included software allows you create your own models and makes swapping presets easy. I did find the multitude of modes, and their color-coded indicators, a bit confusing at times, but IK’s documentation was very clear and got me through any trouble spots. The TONEX ONE would serve well to those who want to explore digital modeling but still hold on to their analog pedalboards, and at $179 it’s a steal.
Jeff "Skunk" Baxter expands his acclaimed first-ever solo album, Speed of Heat, with a brand new Storytellers Edition, featuring brand-new commentary tracks.
For over five decades, audiences worldwide have marveled at Baxter’s inimitable and instantly recognizable guitar playing and generational songcraft. His output spans classic records as a founding member of Steely Dan and member of the Doobie Brothers in addition to hundreds of recordings with the likes of Donna Summer, Cher, Joni Mitchell, Rod Stewart, Dolly Parton, and many more. During 2022, he initially unveiled Speed of Heat, showcasing yet another side of his creative identity and introducing himself as a solo artist.
On the Storytellers Edition, his fascinating commentary pulls the curtain back on both the process and the message of the music. This version traces the journey to Speed of Heat and its core inspirations as shared directly by Baxter in the form of detailed anecdotes, candid stories, and insightful commentary on every track.
The 12-songalbum, co-produced by Baxter and CJ Vanston, is a riveting and rewarding musical experience that features a host of brilliantly crafted originals co-written by the guitarist and Vanston, as well as inspired versions of some of the great classics. Along the way, Baxter is joined by guest vocalists and songwriters Michael McDonald, Clint Black, Jonny Lang and Rick Livingstone. Baxter notably handled lead vocals on his rendition of Steely Dan’s “My Old School.” Other standouts include "Bad Move" co-written by Baxter, Clint Black, and CJ Vanston, and “My Place In The Sun”, sung by Michael McDonald and co-authored by McDonald, Baxter and Vanston.
As one of the most recorded guitarists of his generation, Baxter’s creative and versatile playing has been heard on some of the most iconic songs in music history, including “9 to 5” by Dolly Parton and “Hot Stuff” by Donna Summer.
The stunningly diverse collection of material on Speed of Heat presents a 360-degree view of the uniquely gifted musician.
STREAM / SHARE / PURCHASE HERE.
Beauty and sweet sonority elevate a simple-to-use, streamlined acoustic and vocal amplifier.
An EQ curve that trades accuracy for warmth. Easy-to-learn, simple-to-use controls. It’s pretty!
Still exhibits some classic acoustic-amplification problems, like brash, unforgiving midrange if you’re not careful.
$1,199
Taylor Circa 74
taylorguitars.com
Save for a few notable (usually expensive) exceptions, acoustic amplifiers are rarely beautiful in a way that matches the intrinsic loveliness of an acoustic flattop. I’ve certainly seen companies try—usually by using brown-colored vinyl to convey … earthiness? Don’t get me wrong, a lot of these amps sound great and even look okay. But the bar for aesthetics, in my admittedly snotty opinion, remains rather low. So, my hat’s off to Taylor for clearing that bar so decisively and with such style. The Circa 74 is, indeed, a pretty piece of work that’s forgiving to work with, ease to use, streamlined, and sharp.
Boxing Beyond Utility
Any discussion of trees or wood with Bob Taylor is a gas, and highly instructive. He loves the stuff and has dabbled before in amplifier designs that made wood an integral feature, rather than just trim. But the Circa 74 is more than just an aesthetic exercise. Because the Taylor gang started to think in a relatively unorthodox way about acoustic sound amplification—eschewing the notion that flat frequency response is the only path to attractive acoustic tone.
I completely get this. I kind of hate flat-response speakers. I hate nice monitors. We used to have a joke at a studio I frequented about a pair of monitors that often made us feel angry and agitated. Except that they really did. Flat sound can be flat-out exhausting and lame. What brings me happiness is listening to Lee “Scratch” Perry—loud—on a lazy Sunday on my secondhand ’70s Klipsch speakers. One kind of listening is like staring at a sun-dappled summer garden gone to riot with flowers. The other sometimes feels like a stale cheese sandwich delivered by robot.
The idea that live acoustic music—and all its best, earthy nuances—can be successfully communicated via a system that imparts its own color is naturally at odds with acoustic culture’s ethos of organic-ness, authenticity, and directness. But where does purity end and begin in an amplified acoustic signal? An undersaddle pickup isn’t made of wood. A PA with flat-response speakers didn’t grow in a forest. So why not build an amp with color—the kind of color that makes listening to music a pleasure and not a chore?
To some extent, that question became the design brief that drove the evolution of the Circa 74. Not coincidentally, the Circa 74 feels as effortless to use as a familiar old hi-fi. It has none of the little buttons for phase correction that make me anxious every time I see one. There’s two channels: one with an XLR/1/4" combo input, which serves as the vocal channel if you are a singer; another with a 1/4" input for your instrument. Each channel consists of just five controls—level, bass, middle, and treble EQ, and a reverb. An 11th chickenhead knob just beneath the jewel lamp governs the master output. That’s it, if you don’t include the Bluetooth pairing button and 1/8" jacks for auxiliary sound sources and headphones. Power, by the way, is rated at 150 watts. That pours forth through a 10" speaker.Pretty in Practice
I don’t want to get carried away with the experiential and aesthetic aspects of the Circa 74. It’s an amplifier with a job to do, after all. But I had fun setting it up—finding a visually harmonious place among a few old black-panel Fender amps and tweed cabinets, where it looked very much at home, and in many respects equally timeless.
Plugging in a vocal mic and getting a balance with my guitar happened in what felt like 60 seconds. Better still, the sound that came from the Circa 74, including an exceedingly croaky, flu-addled human voice, sounded natural and un-abrasive. The Circa 74 isn’t beyond needing an assist. Getting the most accurate picture of a J-45 with a dual-source pickup meant using both the treble and midrange in the lower third of their range. Anything brighter sounded brash. A darker, all-mahogany 00, however, preferred a scooped EQ profile with the treble well into the middle of its range. You still have to do the work of overcoming classic amplification problems like extra-present high mids and boxiness. But the fixes come fast, easily, and intuitively. The sound may not suggest listening to an audiophile copy of Abbey Road, as some discussions of the amp would lead you to expect. But there is a cohesiveness, particularly in the low midrange, that does give it the feel of something mixed, even produced, but still quite organic.
The Verdict
Taylor got one thing right: The aesthetic appeal of the Circa 74 has a way of compelling you to play and sing. Well, actually, they got a bunch of things right. The EQ is responsive and makes it easy to achieve a warm representation of your acoustic, no matter what its tone signature. It’s also genuinely attractive. It’s not perfectly accurate. Instead, it’s rich in low-mid resonance and responsive to treble-frequency tweaks—lending a glow not a million miles away from a soothing home stereo. I think that approach to acoustic amplification is as valid as the quest for transparency. I’m excited to see how that thinking evolves, and how Taylor responds to their discoveries.