Khruangbin and Leon Bridges are like sweet potato fries dipped in pancake syrup. They’ve got different things going on, but damn do they work well together.
On Feb. 18, the project put out its second collaborative EP, “Texas Moon,” to follow up the 2020 release of “Texas Sun.” As the titles suggest, this new EP is a continuation of the story told by the first, but now the sun has set in Texas, and it’s dusk in the desert once again.
Leon Bridges grew up in Fort Worth, Texas, and all three members of Khruangbin were just a hop skip and a jump away in Houston. Besides armadillos, rodeos and The Alamo, here’s the most Texas thing ever: Khruangbin’s guitarist Mark Speer and drummer Donald Ray “DJ” Johnson actually met in their church’s gospel band back in Houston.
After a listen to the album, this comes as no surprise. “Texas Moon” feels like you’re sitting inside of a Southern confessional and somehow taking your whip for a spin down a dusty highway at the same time. The collaboration of these two projects felt like it was bound to happen because of the way they so naturally compliment each other while still pushing each other’s material to new places.
The last track on the first EP, titled “Conversation,” teases the slinkiness of the first song on “Texas Moon” called “Doris.” This is a killer scene-setting point to open up the album, as right from the get-go you catch the vibe of the four tracks to follow. The bassline feels like it’s awake and sets the whole thing up like a kaleidoscopic R&B night ride. Bridges told NPR he wrote “Doris” as an ode to his grandmother’s passing, taking the point of view of his father as he was watching her slip to the other side. The wha’d out guitar brings with it a mist that sits over the whole song, and its haze is pleasantly disorienting, capturing that line between life and death in a groove.
Things pick up with no warning in the next track. When I first heard the opening of “B-Side” come on after “Doris,” it was a little like how I imagine Mia Wallace from “Pulp Fiction” felt with a syringe full of adrenaline in her chest. It’s no wonder this was chosen as the EP’s lead single — “B-Side” is the definite bump track on the album and it makes me want to adopt a new persona. For 4 and a half minutes, I’m a tall blonde Michelle Phifer type sporting a low back sequin dress in a 70s discotheque, dancing on a brother with platform shoes and plaid pants. In this track, Khruangbin’s aesthetic is front and center with support in the vibe department from Bridges.
With the third song “Chocolate Hills,” Bridges grabs his spotlight right back with a song that feels the most like classic R&B on the whole album. The track has me wondering how many children will be conceived to it in the next month, and isn’t that really what the style is all about anyway? For lack of a better word, there’s some sauce here. It’s exactly what we needed as a middle point on the album. Thus far, we’ve gotten a taste of what each band can do and the ways in which they continue to make it work together in the new EP.
“Father Father” comes along next, and here’s where that Texas upbringing gets the lyrical tip of the hat. With its catchword rooted in gospel, Bridges told NPR this song plays with a struggle in the journey with faith that most religious people, himself included, have faced. The start of the track is led by the push and the pull of a constant chord and a slow percussion. Occasional snake rattles bring the whole thing back to the highway, and lyrics aside, it feels spiritual. The murmured vocal dubs give depth to what Bridge’s is saying, and they make the song feel like you’re listening through the door on a personal conversation you weren’t supposed to hear.
The trickled-off and understated finish to “Father Father” takes us right into the final moment of the EP, “Mariella.” I like album closers like this: the easy kind that leave you feeling alright. This reminds me of the title track to “Texas Sun” in its everyman delivery and homeyness. It’s quaint in the way it feels like sitting in the backseat of mom’s car when you’re a kid and looking at the road behind you. I think anything too aura heavy to close things off would’ve felt wrong or left things unfinished. This book ends not only this EP well, but the whole two part project.
I’m a fan of the collaboration here, and though I feel it’s unlikely, I want to see more of this little Lone Star State alliance in the future. So, what’s next? “Texas Sky?” “Texas Stars?” Hell, I’d even take “Texas Roadhouse.” This second EP did anything but disappoint.
