Makara didn’t really become a proper band until their third album.

Before that, Q had already made music under the name, often working alone and recording at home with whatever he had. Things changed when the group started playing together more naturally, and that was also when Molam began to come through in a way they hadn’t expected. They had grown up hearing it everywhere, but for years they hardly thought about it. Later, when they started bringing those sounds into Makara, they realised they already knew the feeling of it without having to study it too much. By ‘Strawberry Mind’, they felt they had found something of their own. Then came ‘Ngong Ngong’, followed by ‘COCO’, a song Q nearly left off the album before the others convinced him to keep it. That song ended up taking Makara much further than they expected and eventually helped bring them to KEXP. The band now describe their music as ‘Neo Molam’. They are not trying to play traditional Molam, and they are not too interested in fitting neatly into the comparisons people make from outside Thailand. As they say in the interview: “We are not Khruangbin.”

We spoke with Makara about how the band came together, growing up around Molam, finding their sound on ‘Strawberry Mind’, the meaning behind ‘Ngong Ngong’, nearly losing ‘COCO’, and what changed after KEXP.

“That accent and feeling had already been living inside our heads the whole time without us knowing.”

Let’s start at the beginning. How did the three of you come together, and when did Makara start to feel like a proper band?

We really became a proper band around the third album. Before that, things were more scattered, but during those sessions we recorded very naturally, almost like jamming, and realised we connected really well together. Since then, making music has become much easier. Each person can focus on their own direction, then we come together and record.

You call your music ‘Neo Molam.’ What does that mean to you?

We call ourselves “Neo Molam.” We take the phrasing and spirit of Molam and mix it into our music, but we’re not strictly traditional.

How close were you to Molam growing up? Was it simply part of everyday life, or did you come to it later through your own searching?

Molam had been around us since childhood, on TV, in restaurants, supermarkets, everywhere really. At first we didn’t pay much attention to it. But when we started bringing those sounds into our music, we realised we didn’t need to force anything. That accent and feeling had already been living inside our heads the whole time without us knowing. Once we started playing together as a band, everyone synced together in a really natural and surprising way.

Your first album, ‘Jellyman use scoopy sword to empty the sun in Yootah,’ already has a strange world around it, even from the title. What kind of project was Makara at that point?

That album was actually a solo album by Q, our vocalist and guitarist. It was during the COVID quarantine period when he was experimenting with making music and practising guitar at the same time. He recorded the whole album at home using only the limited equipment he had.

What was changing by ‘Alter Ego’?

Q was still experimenting a lot at that point, but he had started finding the sound he was searching for through Gypsy Jazz influences. Around that time, he also began collaborating with more recording musicians. It became even clearer with the last track on the album, ‘Carrot,’ which later became the blueprint for the next album.

Then ‘Strawberry Mind’ seems to be where things really clicked. What changed?

That album was a major turning point. Q developed the sound from songs like ‘Gypsy Treatment’ and ‘Carrot’ and combined it with Molam phrasing and feeling. For both Q and the band, that was the moment we realised: this is MAKARA.

After releasing it, even though the songs were international in structure, many details still carried a very Thai character that felt unfamiliar to foreign listeners. That led to opportunities to perform overseas, starting with Japan. The reaction from Japanese audiences gave us even more confidence that we had found something new.

Your 2025 album ‘Ngong Ngong’ has a title that doesn’t explain itself too easily. What does “Ngong Ngong” mean to you, and why did it fit the record?

‘Ngong Ngong’ in Thai is written งง งง. It’s a very simple phrase made from repeating the Thai letter ง four times. Those four “snakes” represented the four members of the band at that time. The phrase itself means “confused.”

During that period, Q was going through what felt like the most beautifully low point of his life. So everything really felt “Ngong Ngong,” just like the title.

‘COCO’ became a big door opener for the band through KEXP. Did that song feel special before other people reacted to it, or did the response surprise you?

Actually, Q almost removed that song from the album, but the rest of the band stopped him.

The reaction was definitely beyond our expectations. Through that song, we started understanding the power of simplicity, something very direct that somehow explains everything about MAKARA in one track: Neo Molam, psychedelic and blues.

The live side of Makara seems very important. How different is the band on stage from the band in the studio?

It’s very different live because nobody wants to play the songs exactly the same way every time. We follow the atmosphere of each place, fight against gravity, stay honest with whatever we’re feeling in that moment, and let it all come out without too many limitations.

A lot of listeners outside Thailand are only now discovering Thai psychedelic music and newer Molam-influenced bands. What would you like people to understand about Makara beyond the obvious comparisons?

We are not Khruangbin, and we weren’t influenced by them directly. But we respect them a lot for helping open the door for the world to start hearing Southeast Asian sounds.