CD: Caribou - Suddenly

The Canadian psyche-pop genre fuser further hones his craft

share this article

Around the turn of the millennium, when Dan Snaith started releasing music – initially as Manitoba, then Caribou, and latterly also Daphni – he tended to get lumped in with the folktronica movement. In fact, the closest he came to actual folk was a heavy influence from the more delicate side of late 60s psychedelia. But, as with many of the other acts tagged with the f-word like his friend and ally Kieran “Four Tet” Hebden, it was really a clumsy signifier for people who were refusing to accept the artificial separation between “electronic music” and the rest which had become reified with the rise of Nineties dance culture – and also gestured towards a “crate digger's” diversity of taste and influence.

In the intervening years, the mainstream has gradually moved towards Snaith's way of thinking – accessibility of powerful electronic production tools have massively blurred boundaries, and the infinite availability of global and historical sounds makes crate diggers of us all. And Snaith has moved closer towards the mainstream, as refinement of his techniques and ever more festival-pleasing live shows make his fusions ever bigger, bolder and more accessible. So on the seventh Caribou album proper: here, 21st century radio pop and big club sounds, Sixties soul, Eighties avant-disco, hip hop, wonky electronica, and that good old-time psychedelia all weave into one another with extrarodinary ease, and big shiny production values to boot.

Mutability seems to be an over-arching theme here. Not only do styles morph into one another – as in the Arthur Russell-like song “You and I” unexpectedly and seamlessly becoming a post-EDM US festival half-tempo groover, or the way “Home” incorporates chunks of northern soul favourite Gloria Barnes's song of the same name into Snaith's own songwriting – but samples and tones speed up and slow down as if woozy or melting. And lyrically, all is change: beautifully abstracted themes of loss, departure, return and irreversible alteration form simple couplets that even on first listen tug naggingly at the heartstrings like you've known them for years. From so many distinct elements, to create something so coherent and so individual is quite some achievement. Dan Snaith's unique craft has been well honed.

@joemuggs

Watch "You and I":

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
Name that you would like to appear as the author of the comment
Styles morph into one another and samples and tones speed up and slow down as if woozy or melting

rating

5

share this article

Help secure the future of arts journalism

In this era of algorithmic recommendation, opaquely sponsored content and AI slop, theartsdesk’s mission to preserve real journalistic and critical values has never been more important.

If you like what you see here, please join us 
in this mission.

Subscribing to the site will help us in our coming 
redesign and expansion.


If you do this before the 31st August this will be at our guaranteed founder’s rate: 
your subs will never increase again.

Subscribe now for £5 per month. 
or yearly for just £40.

Or if you simply want to support us with a one-off donation, you can do so here.

more new music

The welcome return of a foundational album of electronic minimalism
Surrealism, social observation and more muscular sound from the Leeds quartet
A powerful personal outpouring of joy and pain - with a great beat
The London quartet have taken to playing large venues with ease, as this career-spanning set showed
The Philadelphia punk rockers continue to impress
A partial account of how Brit-punk absorbed an aspect of reggae
The Fez Festival Of World Sacred Music and the Fes Gathering bring the world together
Bristol band aren't happy but offer up the occasional sing-along
A new album is unveiled and old tunes are played for the last time